Book Fest, Back by Popular Request

In response to requests for a little more about the Tucson Festival of Books I got out my notebook and will give you a few of the tidbits I gleaned.

Literary agents Amy Rennert and Claire Gerus had many suggestions for new writers. Both thought following Publishers Marketplace and Publishers Lunch were good sources to keep in the loop about what is being published.

A social media marketing workshop proved to be interesting. Although I don’t subscribe to the idea of automating tweets, as the workshop leader suggested we do. (Personally I am not interested in reading automated tweeps, so why should I send them out to others?) I use Twitter to build relationships with folks. I want to actually know about those I interact with on Twitter. I’ve found support there, and opportunity to give my support to others.  If you haven’t tried it, perhaps you should?

During a workshop for sagging middles – don’t look down at your waist, we’re still talking writing here – I learned that getting through a tough middle on a novel can simply be a matter of asking, “What is the next indicated thing a character would do? Then possibly asking, “ What is the last thing she would do?” Also, “What would make my character suffer the most?” (Always my favorite, brwhahaha.)

I attended the festival with workshop writer friends: Char Bishop, Diana Douglas, LaDonna (yes…just LaDonna, you know, like Cher, or Prince) Janice Russell, Patricia Cox, David Waid and John Blohm. All fantastic writers, and wonderfully supportive of each other. (Members of the ANWW.)

Writers of the ANWW and friends

Trish arranged for us to get together with some other writer friends Saturday evening at The Blue Willow. We ate outside on the patio. It was the perfect way to cap off the first day of the festival. The ladies later retired to one of our rooms at the Marriot, where we drank wine and talked about the high points of our day.

(It would take not one, but two, strong lattes at the funky hookah bar near campus to get me going the next morning.)

I’m marking my calendar for next March and definitely plan on attending. And if you plan on being anywhere near Arizona next year in March, you should too!

The Tucson Festival of Books – highly recommended.

Are You a Writer?

The question came up at the Arizona Novel Writers Workshop:  How do you know if you’re a writer? It was asked by Liz – an excellent writer of the murder mystery persuasion.

The question, and the various replies to it, got my brain perking.

How do you know you’re a writer? When can that label be legitimately claimed for one’s self?

For me, I think  I first thought of myself as a writer when I was in college, taking a creative writing course. I completed my first story, beginning to end. It was terrible. Something about a woman being sexually harassed by her boss, who was a florist. As I write this I can actually feel my shoulders hunch a little, remembering how bad that story was, and that I proudly showed it to my classmates and professor. At the time I thought it was so ‘true to life’. My next completed story was a pretentious little piece of tripe about some rich kids whose hobnobbing, partying parents neglected them, which of course ended in tragedy. Very subtle literary tragedy, I was certain - I was going through my F. Scott Fitzgerald phase just then.

But irregardless of how rotten my skills were, how faulty the execution was, and the naiveté of my young human perceptions, one thing was certain: I liked writing. I liked it a lot.

And as a result I started seeing myself as a writer. Which seems to have worked, because I have since become one.  Perhaps the metaphysicians are correct and being a writer (a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker) is linked to first imagining yourself as one.

So, in response to Liz’s question, I have compiled this list of ways to ‘tell’ if you are a writer, or not.

• You often wake during the night with an idea that makes you get out of bed and write it down.
• You sometimes shout out the obvious (to you) next plot development during movies, resulting in your family and friends irritably shushing you for ‘giving away the ending’.
• You have an uncommon (perhaps even unseemly) fondness for books.
• The weird people you meet fascinate you as possible characters in your next novel or short story.
• If you suddenly found yourself without fingers, you’d find a way to type with your toes.
• You eves drop on conversations you’re not part of.  And then mentally edit them.
• You spend more on paper, notebooks, pens and printer ink then you do on shoes. (This sign is an especially good indicator if you are female, or a drag queen.)
• You become truculent when you don’t have time to write.
• You know what truculent means.
• It’s 4pm, you’ve been working all day, you’re still in your pajamas, and the dog has made a puddle in the kitchen because you neglected to let her out.
• You continue to write, despite those depressing blogs and articles saying how slim your chances are of getting published or finding an agent.
• You’re not afraid of the voices in your head. You like them.
• You have at least as many conversations with imaginary folks as ‘real’ ones. You don’t totally buy the distinction.
• You know you ate, the empty plate on your desk is evidence, but you can’t remember doing it or what it was.
• You enjoy nothing better than torturing the heroine/hero.
• You’ve gleefully told a friend that you killed someone that morning/day/evening . . . and that you enjoyed it. 

What are your thoughts? If you write, when did you first begin to think of yourself as ‘a writer’?

 

Tucson Festival of Books

The schedule of events came out this past week for the Tucson Festival of Books. I am busy perusing it and planning my  two days there with the writers of the Arizona Novel Writers Workshop .

The very first order of the day for me, of course, was to locate those events featuring Arizona-based writer  Diana Gabaldon, since hearing her speak (squeee!!!) is one of the main reasons I’ll be attending.

Read  up on advice on attending conferences this morning. Will take into serious consideration points concerning not breathing on an agent’s (or a certain favorite author’s) neck from behind (with or without breath mints), or following said agent or favorite author to the ladies room and then lurking outside. (Also promise not to shove my manuscript under the stall door).

Here’s what the Arizona Star has to say about the Book Festival.

The festival is scheduled to take place over the weekend of the 12th and 13th of March.

Hope to see you there!

Workin’ for a Livin’

So, I went on a job interview yesterday. I already have a day job. But this market is tough and I’ve been doing the job I’m at for eight years. The longest I’ve EVER stayed with one employer. Technically I’ve done two enlistments – if I were in the military.  And I am getting restless. Also, the hours are crazy; people calling me all hours of the day and night; never really feeling like I am home and truly off work. My ideal job would be one where I get paid a lot to work noon to five, Monday through Friday, at something that wouldn’t intrude on my thoughts after I clocked out. Thereby leaving my mornings (when I write) and weekends (when I write in the morning and spend time with my family during the day) free.

Okay, that’s not true. My IDEAL job would be to find an agent who could get my novel published and get me paid to write. And if some producer picked up Sword of Mordrey and shouted “Wow, this would make an incredible, action-packed movie!” (which it most certainly would, by the way) and my novel got turned into a fabulous, epic adventure film, starring Brad Pitt as Lord Jocelyn and . . .

Okay, that would be my ideal job.

But I have to eat until then, right?

I heard about this other job while taking my license renewal classes. The woman sitting beside me mentioned she was interviewing for another position. I asked her what she did now and when she described her job it sounded like a dream come true. She works noon to five pm, Monday through Friday. And the pay, while not stellar, was decent. I honestly thought I had manifested my dream job. I gave her my number and she said she would give me a call if she got the other job. Well, two days ago she did. So, I went on a job interview.

Ugh! Not only was it not my dream job. It was a job I could never tolerate. I’m not going to bore you, dear reader, with the gory details. But I will say this: I dropped my $300 prescription sunglasses while leaving the building and now they have a big scratch on the left lens. Uh huh. That interview cost me.

So what is the moral or point of this story?

Sheesh . . . there’s no moral. I’m just workin’ for a livin’.  That’s what we writers do, while writing our short stories and novels.

But I am putting it out there to the Universe . . . I’ve got a great novel here. One that would make an incredible action, adventure movie. But you’ve gotta notice it before Brad Pitt gets too long in the tooth to play Jocelyn.

by Cynthia Robertson