Skip to content

Posts from the ‘Brittany’ Category

Apr 5

7 Comments

Brittany: Where’s the finish line?

Christa’s post last week left me with a lot to think about. I’m sure I had read it before, that authors are often judged on the basis of their debut novel’s sales, that depending on its success and failure, a career can be born or lost. I probably skimmed over that part in some guide book, thinking that it didn’t apply to me. But after Christa mentioned it, and I responded with a pollyanna-esque comment that now makes me cringe, I started to re-consider my point of view. Her concern is something that bears contemplation… which I have been doing nonstop ever since.

Since that post, I haven’t been able to write. I’ve been happy with my re-writes up to this point, but I wonder now if I’m as far ahead as I thought I was. Is my sparse writing style enough? Can I do better? The other big questions that spring to mind are when will I really be finished? And will I know I’m finished when I get there?

It’s ironic that my book is about home improvement when time and again I have likened the re-writing, re-editing, re-assessing process to the continual construction of the Winchester Mystery House. I think we can safely say that the “additions” to that house didn’t improve it in any way. I wonder about this as I tear apart my novel and try to reconstruct it into something better, something more functional. Am I simply making additions or am I actually making improvements?

I can see this going on indefinetely. The more I learn of the cut-throat behind-the-scenes business of the publishing industry, the more my fear grows that I’m never going to be finished. I was always the student who wanted to turn in my best work, but deadlines always loomed at school. Now there are no deadlines. I can tweak endlessly. And because I lack the experience to know when enough is enough, I might very well end up doing that.

So my question is to those of you who’ve declared your project finished and have gone on to see it published: How do you know when you’ve reached the finish line?

Mar 6

4 Comments

Brittany: Of course it’s worth it

I strongly believe that being a writer is a strange cosmic gift that most people have no control over. The vast majority of people have no desire whatsoever to sit down and commune with a keyboard for hours on end in the pursuit of what will usually amount to minimal success. The cold hard truth is that most of us writers will never be rich or famous. We know it. The world knows it. But we do it anyway, because we can and we want to. We throw our writing out into the world and cross our fingers.

Back in the sixties, a couple of song writers wrote a song for Elvis called “A Little Less Conversation”. No doubt they were under a deadline. No doubt they worried about the feedback they were going to get on it. The probably spent several sleepless nights getting the song just right. And then they turned it over to the movie execs and it was out of their hands. It was written. It was on a record. They had to wait and see what would happen next.

The song was not exactly a smash hit. It went absolutely nowhere except the B-side graveyard.

No doubt Mac Davis and Billy Strange wondered if it was worth it, why they bothered, and all those other existentialist questions we writers ask ourselves in moments of frustration.

And then, in 2001, “A Little Less Conversation” made its way onto the “3000 Miles to Graceland” soundtrack. Since then, it’s been everywhere. In the clubs. On tv. It was even Howard Dean’s 2004 campaign song. You think Davis and Strange expected that? I seriously doubt it.

And who knows why it wasn’t successful in 1968? Maybe the lyrics were too provocative? Maybe the rhythm didn’t play well for contemporary listeners? Maybe it didn’t sound enough like “Hey Jude” – the number one song that year. Who knows why the universe is so fickle?

The point is that it took thirty-three years for the song to be a hit. But it was out there when audiences were ready for it. And it was out there because despite all the angst and grief associated with writing it, it got written anyway.

It’s a really catchy song, and one that got stuck in my head the last few days I was finishing up my novel. I found this story on Wikipedia while I was looking up the lyrics. Look up the lyrics sometime and tell me if those aren’t the very things you’d tell your muse if you could. In any case, the song inspired me to just keep plugging away. We never know what will happen to our words, but our words are timeless. They may not work today, but they might work tomorrow. And deep down I think we all realize this. This is why we keep working at it.

Feb 24

6 Comments

Brittany: Renewal: Spring in South Carolina

I don’t want to rub it in… okay, yes I do. Lately the weather here in Greenville has been hovering in the low 70s. The ground hog in Western North Carolina predicted winter, but the ground hog in Atlanta predicted spring. We don’t have a weather-predicting groundhog of our own, so we have been shifting back and forth between the two. First there’s a 70 degree day. Then the next day or two it’s rainy and cold in the 50s. Once you’ve grown to dislike that weather, you’ll have a beautiful sunny day again, just so you learn to appreciate it. I am in heaven.

We have been putting our zoo membership to good use lately and taking walks to the neighborhood playground as well. Like Miranda, I just can’t seem to find the time to exercise, but it seems a waste not to enjoy the sunshine. It does energize me, much to the detriment of my writing. After a nice walk outdoors, I am ready to write, which is a problem considering that I should be winding things down. But I have come to love my book, as much or more so than the weather, and all this yearly renewal is making me want to create. I sit down and think “I am going to bang out this last chapter” and before I know it, I’ve found a spot somewhere fifteen chapters back where I can write a little scene. Then there’s a touch more dialogue here. And maybe a little exposition there. I have said before that the creation of this book is less a writing exercise and more like the construction of the Winchester Mystery House. It seems that the writing part is neverending. I know I need to stop, but I am enjoying myself way too much. I’ve never finished a novel before, and now that I know I can, I don’t want to.

Feb 4

4 Comments

Brittany: Writing the Climax

It occured to me yesterday that the chapter I’m working on is the climax of my novel, which isn’t the most earth shattering realization ever, but it has put me into full blown panic mode. In all my years writing, I don’t think I’ve ever written a climax before. Now that’s a scary realization. When I think about it, I’ve written a lot about stagnation and the inability to move forward. It probably says a lot about how I felt in my 20s. But now that I’m in my 30s, I’m ready to embrace change–figuratively and literally.

I’ve learned a lot of things writing my perpetual novel. Among them, that I avoid writing about conflict and tension, I rely heavily on dialogue to move the plot forward at the expense of exposition, and my secondary characters probably need a book of their own because they’ve hijacked the plot. I’ve made a conscientious effort to improve on all these points.

And now the climax. I feel like I need to match the energy and intensity of the chapter, but instead I feel drained. When you write, do you ever feel like the conductor of an orchestra? Physically directing the art with your very essence? For me, writing is an endurance sport. I am completely depleted after a productive writing session. But right now, I feel exhausted without having run the marathon.

Part of this may be the pregnancy. Lately, after lunch, I practically slip into a coma. And I could understand it if I felt physically tired, but I don’t. It’s my brain that feels sluggish. So I turn to those of you with energy to burn. How do you all build up your energy reserves? And how do you prepare yourself for writing the big scenes?

Jan 29

9 Comments

Brittany: A Room (Or Not) Of One’s Own

Hi everyone. My name is Brittany and I’ve been hard at work on a novel for the last two years. I live in SC with my husband, 17 month old son, and baby #2, another boy, who will be born in early June. For now, I don’t get a lot of time to write. I try to jot down ideas while my son is playing, but more times than not, he ends up stealing the pen out of my hand and following that up with a victory dance where he leaps triumphantly on my notebook. For the last 6 months, I have done the bulk of my writing in very short bursts during my son’s nap time–which is unfortunately only once a day. It frustrates me to no end, but the alternative is even more frustrating.

I’ve made a lot of progress though, with over 200 pages written and 39 chapters under my belt. The key to my success is trying to achieve a level of zen while animal crackers are ground into my keyboard and empty sippy cups are hurled at my head. My mantra is always “If not today, then tomorrow.”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a mother who writes. Ordinarily, when I think of a “writer” I imagine a reclusive character locked behind a door who neither eats nor sleeps for days. I think of this person because that is how I used to write before I had obligations to other people. I still have an “office” but I use the term loosely. An office seems to signify a private place to conduct one’s business and that is hardly how I would describe the place I do most of my writing. As a mother, I fully expect to find toys littering the floor and a strange assortment of other odds and ends that my son finds endlessly amusing. Lately, it has been the remnants of a bag of polyfill stuffing that he excavated from my craft basket. There are times I wish I could push everything outside the door and lock myself in. All I want is one day where I can write and make some real measurable progress. But of course, I can’t do that and I know it. The thing is, other people know it too, and very occasionally, someone will say to me “Come to my house. Bring the baby. I’ll watch him while you write.” There is a special place in heaven for these people. And I always take them up on their offer.

As a mother, I already know that it takes a village to raise a child, but I’m also learning that a village is also essential when you’re a writer. It takes that many offered spaces to get your novel finished!

Where do the rest of you write? And how do you carve out space for yourself in the midst of chaos?

Newer Entries »