Book of Mercy was a finalist in the 22nd Annual Midwest Book Awards, which were announced on May 9 in Bloomington, MN.

Is this a big deal?

I interviewed Antigone Brown, the main character in Book of Mercy, about her view of this momentous event. She is a mother-to-be who stands up to the book banners in her small North Carolina town, even though she can’t read.

Me: So Antigone how are you feeling about this nomination?

Antigone: They like me. They REALLY like me.

Me: Yeah, it was cool to be nominated. Publishers from 12 Midwestern states submitted 362 entries in 50 categories in this year’s competition.

Antigone: That many? Well, it’s validation. [Lowers voice.] After all, this was an indie (self-published) book.

Me: Why do you need validation?

Antigone: In the fiction world, as a female lead character, everybody is comparing you to either Scarlet O’Hara or Katniss Everdeen.

Me: Really? I had no idea.

Antigone: Yes. I only take on a group of highly influential women removing “undesirable” books from the school library . . .

Me: And don’t forget the pie thrower.

Antigone: How could I? I’m still washing that banana cream out of my clothes. But Scarlet in Gone with the Wind faced down the Union Army, and Katniss in The Hunger Games outmaneuvered mutant killer wasps. Tough competition.

Me: Personally, I hate contests.

Antigone: I’m with you. But we live in a world consumed by contests, from sports to American Idol and the Academy Awards.

Me: Still, I’m sorry I didn’t pit you against hordes of fighting men or an evil empire.

Antigone: Irene (the leader of the censors) was evil enough.

Me: Cheer up. You have a secret library. I doubt Scarlet ever read a book, and Katniss was too busy trying to feed her family.

Antigone: Yes. Bookhenge. Nice name for a library, by the way. But back to all these contests. I’m beginning to wonder what my child will be compared to.

Me: You’re always worrying about that baby.

Antigone: Of course. What’s a parent to do?

Me: You have many agonizing years ahead of you. There will be school recitals and pageants and spelling bees.

Antigone [shudders]: Kids called me a loser because I had trouble reading. I don’t want that for my child. I don’t see why we have to make comparisons at all.

Me: Because if you lose, it is supposed to make you try harder the next time.

Antigone: You mean, in the next book, you’ll try to write a better me?

Me: There is no better you. I will write a different you.

Antigone: Make her skinnier. She’ll like that.

The Midwest Book Awards are sponsored by the Midwest Independent Publishers Association.

________________

If you enjoyed this post, please subscribe to this blog, make a comment, or check out Book of Mercy. It would make Antigone happy, but please don’t compare her to Scarlet or Katniss. She gets touchy about those folks.

 

This post was crafted by a human being while eating chocolate chips straight from the bag and watching the snow fall. Not all stories have the luxury to be created in such a ridiculously unscientific manner.

Forbes is now using computer-generated stories created by Narrative Science software. Writers apparently are no longer needed for a long list of stories that can be written by algorithm, from sports stories to financial reports. 

Personally, I have known some nice sportswriters and am sad to see them being sent to the junk pile. I always admired the depth of their verb vocabulary.

Who will be next? Bloggers, short story writers, novelists? Please no. I know humans are messy and can’t spell and like to be paid. What if I took fewer bathroom breaks and limited the use of “was” in chapter one? Would that save my job?

I can be creative. I know hundreds of words. Of course, you know thousands and can remember them. But I think people want to read more than stats with a few verbs sprinkled in, something a little more eloquent than a computer manual (no offense). I think they want to be swept away by the turn of a phrase or the essence of a character. They want to imagine themselves . . .

What? Yes, that could be melted chocolate on my keyboard.

I know. That would never happen to you.

 

The last cake I baked drifted out of the pan as if it were an angel descending, settled on the platter, and promptly split down the middle. The fissure was about the size of the Grand Canyon. Since it was a birthday cake and, thus, not expendable, I made repairs. It takes a lot of frosting to fill the Grand Canyon.

I am used to such misadventures; they do not faze me. My husband says these things would not happen if: 1) I read more in the kitchen (as in Julia Child or Betty Crocker), or 2) I didn’t read as much (as in Hemingway or Steinbeck).

But why should I read cookbooks when I am such a marvelous cook to begin with?

I can boil down sentences until there is only the essence left, the true flavor of the words. They cling delicately to the bone of meaning and taste full and round in the mouth. They form such vivid images you can almost bite into them and feel their juices running down your chin.

A good story takes some preparation. Call it marinating. True, there are a few storytellers, such as Garrison Keillor, who pop out stories like microwave ovens. But I, and probably most other writers, take a while to collect information and ideas. After I gather the ingredients, I throw them into a pan, cover them with sauce from the subconscious, and wait.

Sometimes, I wait for years. Good cooking cannot be rushed.

Even after I have made the story, I must wait, let it simmer, let it age. For a story made today has a different taste tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. Good writing, work studied and hailed and read over and over again, never loses its taste, never goes sour.

Of course, errors do happen. I forget to add a thought. Or I beat an idea instead of folding it in with gentleness and patience. Or I sprinkle in too many adjectives, and the story becomes not only runny but run on.

The best cooks never follow the book as if it were a drill sergeant. They improvise, feeling their way by taste and touch and sound. With practice, you get to know what will work; you have a sense of what the story needs, when it is missing a pinch of this or a dash of that.

And, of course, I have burned things. Everyone does. Cooks on scaffolds building skyscrapers, cooks in operating rooms navigating jungles of tiny veins. Cooks speaking before juries, exploring the ocean deep, patrolling lonely city streets. They make mistakes, but they don’t give up. They go right back and beat that steel beam again, cut out that diseased organ, flambé their opponents’ arguments.

Nothing is more disheartening than to hear someone cry: “I can’t cook.” Nonsense, everyone can cook. We all have our specialties, and none is greater or less than others. We all have some dish inside us with our name on it. Sometimes, we just forget to look for it. We let people sidetrack us. Categorize us. We don’t listen to our hearts.

I say get out your pots and pans and descend into the Grand Canyon. I hear the view is stunning.

 

Writer Wren Andre, the winner of the Book of Mercy Giveaway last fall, recently received a contract to have one of her erotic romance stories published by Total E-Bound Books—or rather her alter-ego did. Congratulations to Wren’s writing doppelganger, and I hope 2012 brings her much more writing success. I chatted by e-mail with her about her work and her life.

What type of writing do you do?

As Wren Andre, I like character-driven stories that reveal something extraordinary about an ordinary person. I am also working on a two-part memoir that has been an alternately excruciating and fulfilling experience. Under another pen name, I explore paranormal and erotic romance themes.

How long have you been writing and what is your writing habit—when you write, where you write, what gets you going?

I began writing around the age of 12, and I took myself very seriously! Then I became sidetracked by rock ’n’ roll for about 20 years. I was a singer/songwriter for many years and then was co-owner of the independent record label Cave Poodle Records. I’ve been back to writing for about a decade now and have finally gotten into a workable routine. My writing habits revolve around my day gig. I also have a family, and my time with them is very important, too. So it can be a challenge! I write almost every day, typically a few hours after dinner, and I will also take an entire day of one of my days off to write. Then I save the other day for family. It’s all about balance.

Who are you favorite writers?

I enjoy and gain inspiration from writers such as Cormac McCarthy, Raymond Carver, Augusten Burroughs, Phillip K. Dick, and Margaret Atwood. But I’m also an old school Stephen King fan, and I love memoirs or a good paranormal romance to shake things up. (Wren, shared a peek at her personal library.)

What writing resources do you find useful?

I follow the Writer’s Digest newsletter and subscribe to the magazine, but honestly, I get so much out of other writer’s blogs (such as yours!). There’s something magical about the writing community; I have such a sense of camaraderie that I never had when I was in the music business. I love hearing other writers’ “in the trenches” stories.

Wren is a self-proclaimed spider whisperer. What does someone in that line of work do actually?

Spider whisperers protect poor innocent spiders from those who would heartlessly smash them. My husband and everyone I work with know to come to me when a spider is in need of rescue—as in “come get this spider before I squish it with my shoe.” The next time a fly lands on your hamburger, remember that the spider is our friend.

Wren lives in Oregon. I love to hike and bike. In fact, I spent a great week in Oregon visiting Crater Lake and parks up and down the Oregon coast. Tell me what you like about the outdoors.

You should come back! I could show you some great areas to hike. The outdoors for me is a direct connection to the life spirit. Back when I lived in L.A. (shudders), I would escape to the mountains on the weekend and regain a sense of peace. Inevitably, I would become inspired to write a new song, or have one forming in my head on the way home. I would say nature is my ultimate muse. Hey, maybe that’s why I’m such a writing fool since I moved here! I think you’re on to something there, Sherry.

I’m a big X-Files and Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan. What do you, a paranormal junkie, read and watch?

I love Charlaine Harris and, of course, the True Blood series. I’m also a hardcore X-filer and really got hooked on Lost (however, the ending . . . hmmmm). I also think Karen Marie Moning is a fantastic writer, and I first got converted to paranormal romance through Christine Feehan. Oh, and did I mention Stephen King? He will always be my first love.

Please visit Wren’s blog, Writing in the Real World, and say hello:  http://wrenandre.wordpress.com/2011/09/27/in-the-zone/

 

I entered the Best Tweet About the College that Censored Firefly contest today. My chances of winning are looking about as good as my chances of using my new snowshoes in Minnesota this brown winter. I never win anything, which is fine by me. I am the Rodney Dangerfield of contest winners. So don’t vote for me and ruin my record.

I put my silly tweet in the pot just for fun, but also because I really hated what the University of Wisconsin in Stout tried to pull on theater professor James Miller. In September, Miller posted a quote from the television show, Firefly, outside his office door: ”You don’t know me, son, so let me explain this to you once: If I ever kill you, you’ll be awake. You’ll be facing me. And you’ll be armed.” The sentiment is about standing for a certain set of values, of being straightforward and honest with your fellow humankind. No threat was intended.

But campus police were having none of it. On September 16, they removed the “unacceptable” poster because it referred to killing. In response to this censorship, Miller launched a second salvo poster, which read: “Warning: Fascism” and included a cartoon image of a silhouetted police officer striking a civilian. The poster warned, “Fascism can cause blunt head trauma and/or violent death. Keep fascism away from children and pets.”

Again, the university responded by removing the poster. Quickly, the incident blew up into a public relations nightmare for the university, fueled by tweets, blog posts, and articles by Firefly fans, free speech advocates, the media, celebrities such as Adam Baldwin and Nathan Fillon, and the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education (FIRE). On October 4, the university put out the publicity wildfire by reversing its decision to censor Miller.

This may sound like old news, but a similar incident will likely surface somewhere in the world tomorrow or the next day. Censorship seems to never go out of style. And so, FIRE is sponsoring the tweet contest to draw attention to a new video on censorship featuring author Neil Gaiman.

Now, I have a few disclaimers: 1) I am a Firefly addict and take umbrage at people messing with this rag-tag crew; 2) I am a free speech nut; and 3) I have written a novel about a town that censors books called Book of Mercy. Even if you are or have done none of these things, please watch the video. 

Oh, and my tweet? Here it is:

Son, if you don’t know #censorship is wrong, you just don’t get it. #Firefly in a jar w/no walls. http://bit.ly/tGzd0o

My way-too-literal friend complained, “How can a jar have no walls?”

“It’s about freedom,” I explained.

“I don’t get it,” he said.

This is why I will not win this contest. I suck at jingles.

Feel free to RT in the name of Browncoats, TV shows cancelled before their time, and the way fireflies make you feel on a summer night.

 

Plain language is the law. And it’s not a moment too soon. For years, I have been preaching clarity in writing to author clients and in business writing classes. Now, someone finally gets it, and that’s President Barack Obama.

In 2010, President Obama signed the Plain Writing Act requiring that federal agencies use “clear government communication that the public can understand and use.” In January 2011, he issued an executive order, Improving Regulation and Regulatory Review, which states that “[our regulatory system] must ensure that regulations are accessible, consistent, written in plain language, and easy to understand.”

Minnesota, where I live, has had a state Plain Language Contract Act since 1981 to mandate that consumer contracts are written in a clear and coherent manner. Hennepin County, where Minneapolis is located, is one of the first counties in the country to develop a comprehensive program to tackle government jargon (others include Los Angeles County in California and Miami-Dade County in Florida). For a year now, Hennepin County has been simplifying syntax and deflating bloated verbiage on county websites and documents to make it easier for residents to understand what their county is doing.

Plain Is Beautiful

Training people to write clearly, as Hennepin County does, impacts us all, every day and in many ways. It is not dumbing down our language. It is illuminating, instead of obfuscating. Here are just five ways plain language could help you:

  1. Maybe you won’t sign away the farm—accidentally. The plain language movement will help simplify all the documents you routinely sign at the doctor’s office, the bank, credit card companies, and other entities requiring your John or Jane Hancock. If you don’t understand what you are signing, how do you know you are not signing away your rights?
  2. Maybe plain language will keep you out of jail. The courts are filled with people who simply didn’t understand the state or federal regulations they were violating. Plain language helps us know what is expected of us and keeps us on the right side of the law. Here’s an example of a confusing federal regulation translated into plain language.
    Before: When the process of freeing a vehicle that has been stuck results in ruts or holes, the operator will fill the rut or hole created by such activity before removing the vehicle from the immediate area.
    After: If you make a hole while freeing a stuck vehicle, you must fill the hole before you drive away.
  3. You’ll be able to find the information you need faster. Plain language saves time for you and everyone else. How many times have you had to reread instructions over and over (and don’t even get me started on the sorry, no-language, step-by-step illustrated guides to assembling an Ikea desk)? If all the instructions in your life were written more clearly, you might have time to buy more stuff and do more things. That should be a no-brainer for all marketers.
  4. If you’re a writer, learning to write simply and with clarity will enhance all areas of your writing—from that love scene you spread over three chapters to the tense moment when the heroine explores a noise in the dark and scary basement (don’t do it!). Whether you’re writing the great American novel or a newsletter for your kid’s school, your job is still to communicate. I’m not trying to stifle creativity here, but be aware that the more flowery the prose, the less understandable it can be and the harder the reader has to work. You are taking a chance; many readers will just give up. Personally, I don’t like losing readers.
  5. Plain language will improve your business. No one buys what they do not understand—except maybe insurance and technology. Anyway, you get the idea. If you want to be persuasive, write clearly and succinctly; use plain, jargon-free language and influence customers, co-workers, even your boss. Everyone in the office knows who the “good writers” are—they’re the folks who draft clean, easy-to-understand, and to-the-point documents.

It is still early so we can’t gauge the impact of plain writing laws on either the federal, state, or local level. However, several Hennepin County departments report they’ve been getting fewer questions about information and processes since websites and documents have been rewritten, according to the Star Tribune.

 More on Using Plain Language
Biz Speak Not Spoken Here
11 Ways to Improve Your Writing and Your Business
Technical Terms in Plain English
Center for Plain Language
EPA’s Plain Writing Tips: “Clear air . . . clear water . . . . it all depends on clear writing.”

Comments: Tell me about your encounters with crazy, indecipherable language. How would you rewrite?

 

Themes are for parks like Disneyland, not for books. When it comes to writing,  I prefer to sculpt my stories around an armature.

I came upon this concept in an extraordinary little writing book called Invisible Ink by Brian McDonald. I admit my eyes glaze over when someone even says the word “theme” to me. McDonald noticed the same thing happening with his writing students. So he began looking at story through the eyes of a sculptor. A sculptor builds an armature to act as a skeleton for the artwork. No one ever sees the skeleton or armature, but, without it, the piece would fall apart.

In story crafting, the armature is the idea upon which you hang your story. “It is what you want to say with your piece,” McDonald explained. He uses the old joke about marriage to illustrate: “Marriage is not a word; it’s a sentence.” Although talking about theme can seem like a life sentence with no parole, talking about armature is freeing. Your story is not about a single word—love, friendship, competition, war, revenge. It is a whole sentence, and that sentence or armature gives it shape.

“One way to look at your armature is what is called, in children’s fables, ‘the moral’,” McDonald says. “The armature is your point. Your story is sculpted around this point.” Here are some examples of armatures:

  • Wizard of Oz: There’s no place like home.
  • E.T.: When are you going to grow up and learn how other people feel for a change?
  • Of Mice and Men: People need companionship.

As I was writing my novel, Book of Mercy, I thought all along the theme was censorship. After all, the dylsexic hero Antigone Brown does fight book banning in her town. But upon revision, I discovered again and again that the point of the story was about the lengths parents, or anyone, will go to protect the ones they love. So my armature was “There are more things worth fighting for than you can ever imagine.” 

Revision is when you are really shaping your story around its armature. The beauty of thinking in the simplistic terms of an armature instead of the complicated mess of theme is that, when you are revising your work, you see immediately which scenes stick to the skeleton of your story and make it stronger and which scenes could fall away without any loss to your artistic vision. This is when things get thrilling, even better than riding the world’s craziest roller coaster at an amusement park.

Do you get all tangled up in theme?  What is the one sentence armature of your book?

 

 

If you want to do business, say what you mean. That sounds so simple. But often reading a business report, memo, e-mail, or newsletter is like swimming in concrete. You have to STUDY the sentences and words to understand the message. Who has time for that?

Part of developing a clear and successful writing style is to eliminate jargon, define your acronyms, and don’t fall into the lazy habit of using what I call: biz speak, businessese, or corp talk. It’s those words that everyone uses but no one knows what they mean. Some of the ones on my hit list: value-added, functionality, shovel-ready, 360-degree thinking.

Biz speak loves industry buzzwords. They’re trendy and make the user feel cool, with it, important. When in reality, they are the crutch of a bad communicator. First of all, not all buzzwords mean the same thing to everyone. In “The Truth about the New Rules of Business Writing,” authors Natalie Canavor and Claire Meirowitz give the example of “turnkey training,” which educators use to denote “train the trainer” while in business it can mean ready-to-use training programs or training that produces ready-to-go workers.

A recent discussion on the Professional Editors Network (PEN) listserv bemoaned the use of “learnings,” which is cropping up like dandelions (even in the New York Times).

The irony of all this is that there is a website called www.learnings.org, “where corporate buzzwords go to die.” Thousands of peeved people have entered buzzwords into this online corporate buzzword dictionary. The site managers say it all started with the desire to kill “learnings.” Here’s their definition of the word: “A term created by marketers/researchers/morons to describe the collective insights gained from a particular campaign or experiment. It’s not recognized as a real word but seems to be making some serious rounds throughout the business world.”

So what to do with learnings? PEN editors are suggesting just make it “learning” or replace it with “lessons.”

Biz speak is used to impress–not express. No matter what business you’re in, words are one of your products. So if you want more fans on your Facebook page, more visitors to your website, and more customers, kill the buzzwords in your writing. Give them clarity, and they will give you loyalty.

P.S. What buzzwords torture you? I just found “onboarding” in the corporate buzzword dictionary. A bastardization of the phrase “to get someone on board,” it means “to get up to speed.” Sounds too much like waterboarding to me.

 

Once Upon a Crime in Minneapolis is a small place packed with murder, mayhem, and sweet people. I was there attending the 2011 Write of Spring, an event that brings mystery writers and readers together. Readers snaked through the aisles on this sunny Saturday afternoon, arms loaded with books, talking to friends and strangers.

I was there to see Jessie Chandler, who is celebrating the debut of her Shay O’Hanlan capers just out from Midnight Ink. Her new book Bingo Barge Mystery is a fun romp with coffee shop owner Shay trying to keep her lifelong friend Coop out of jail for the murder of his sleezy boss, the owner of the Bingo Barge, a gambling boat on the Mississippi.

While waiting in line, I met a friendly gentleman who loves all things to do with Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Victorian England. He was there to meet Larry Millett, who writes a series set in St. Paul in which barkeep Shadwell Rafferty solves crimes with the help of SH himself. Imagine dropping Holmes into St. Paul for a little sleuthing on the latest bit of Minnesota not-so-nice. This new Millett, called The Magic Bullet, features a locked room mystery.

Indies like Once Upon a Crime are growing few and far between. I wish this store many years of happiness. As we sit at home downloading books for our Kindle, we forget the energy of book lovers. How they want to tell you about the good read they just finished. How they’ll stand outside a bookstore on a luscious April afternoon and talk about books. How they make a delightful community.

 

Back around 200 B.C., a humble physician named Patanjali wrote the Yoga Sutra, a guide for living the right life. In this essential yogic text, Patanjali discusses the practice of ahimsa: harm no creature in thought or deed.

After September 11, 2001, I wrote about ahimsa (“a” means “not” and “himsa” means “harm”) and terrorism and forgiveness. I have discovered that the practice of ahimsa is a daily challenge: choosing to let the swallows make their messy nest under the eaves and dodging the excitable parents every time I step out of the garage; voicing a kind word instead of the harsh one that jumps to my tongue; keeping all ten fingers curled calmly on the steering wheel—and not lifting one opinionated middle digit—when the guy behind me gives new meaning to road rage.

Ahimsa is about trying to understand the points of view of others. I was reminded of this again when reading The Subversive Copy Editor. Author Carol Fisher Saller, editor of The Chicago Manual of Style Online‘s Q&A, maintains that “your first goal as an editor is merely to do no harm.” She writes that it is a privilege to polish a manuscript and that those of us who edit (for fun and/or profit) don’t have an invitation to slash and burn in the name of style rules.

Darn.

As an editor, I like consistency. I like bringing order to the lawless book manuscript, kicking promotional butt when I come across a brochure oozing with meaningless blah-blah, and cranking up the interest meter in boring newsletter stories. I see editors as super-heroes, quietly (yet dramatically) saving the day and then stepping back into the shadows.

Yet after spending time with Carol on her recent trip to the Twin Cities, I came to realize that rigidity—either on the yoga mat or while pecking away at the computer—serves no one. Relax. Unwind (not to the point of incompetency but into the warmth of compassion). In the end, the editor must do what is best for the work, the reader, and the writer.

We are not avengers of grammar. We lay down our egos and feel lighter. We are swallows swerving amid sentences.

© 2011 Sherry Roberts Notebook Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha