Writers Category Archive
Interview with #PitchWars 2016 Mentee, Lacee Little
I Was Not Born A Writer
I have heard it said, “I was a writer from the start,” but that was not me. I was not born knowing how to put words to my thoughts or how to take those words from my mouth and place them on the page. I was not born understanding the characters dancing in my head or the worlds that needed building. I was not born knowing how to cultivate a storyteller’s touch or with the drive to wade through the world of publishing.
I was not born with the knowledge of the Hero’s Journey or the necessity of a
Beginning
Middle
and End.
I was not born knowing how to bring a character to life, how to give them emotion, how to make a reader feel what my characters experience, or how to make them seem just as three-dimensional as a true-living-breathing person.
I was not born knowing how to understand my five senses and use words to describe them. I was not born knowing the dynamic simple sentence or how to string a complex sentence together. I did not know the difference between the word “red” and “amaranth”, “sad” and “doleful”, “smell” and “reek”, or “hug” and “cradle”. I was not born knowing there are words that carry power, that stick in a reader’s memory like tacky glue or molasses or silly putty or sweat.
I was not born knowing the importance of a comma, the necessity of a period, the gift of quotation marks, or the beauty of an em dash. Punctuation can carry as much power as a word. I was not born knowing that truth.
I was not born knowing that readers need to laugh and cry (often at the same time). Or that readers need to root for their characters. Or that readers need characters with flaws. Need characters full of flaws. Characters that have flaws and yet, they still rise. They rise and conquer. They conquer, despite those flaws. I was not born knowing that characters need to save themselves or save others or are saved because of their flaws.
I was not born knowing how to create rhythm or prose that speaks. I was not born knowing how to draft and edit or knowing the difference between pantsing and plotting. I was not born with thick skin.
I was not born a writer.
But.
But I was born a creature of industry. I was born with the ability to establish habits, particularly the habit of working hard and steadily. I was born with the desire to practice and read, practice and read, practice and read. I was born with an internal need to experience the world fully, to know the stories of fellow men, to understand the lives of the people who have come before me. I was born with the need to interact with others intimately and with the beautiful world around us—to make connections, to research and learn and learn and learn.
I was born with an imagination. I was born with a powerful brain. I was born with a subconscious that works overtime when I sleep and dream.
I was born with each of the tools needed to place the stories I brainstorm on paper.
I was born with the capacity to become.
Four years ago today, I was in a car accident that changed my life and set me on the path to write my first book, which led to the second, the third, the fourth, fifth, sixth and on.
I was not born a writer.
But it is what I am.
Sixth Sense
I think my critique partners have a sixth sense, every time I finish a round of either my own edits or critiques for another CP, one of them sends an email asking if I have time to read. We’re four months into the year and I’ve already had the pleasure of reading four fulls. Not too shabby.
There’s something to be said about finding critique partner’s who you bond with. Two years ago when the lovely Sophia pulled me into the writing community, I don’t think I ever dreamed I would form the relationships I have. I can literally hear my CPs voices in my head when I read their comments. They make me laugh out loud while editing and slap my forehead for missing the things they pick up on.
Writing- it’s a crazy ride and I am eternally grateful I’m not on it alone.
Do your critique partners have sixth senses? Can you hear their voices when you edit?
Too Many Questions?
Cale said this to me earlier today: Sometimes, you remind me of a small child. You ask too many open ended questions.
To my credit, we were at the pier watching fisherman bring in their catch of the day and watching the seals swim through the water, waiting for fish to accidentally fall overboard. I mean, there are a lot of open-ended questions to ask when you’re watching that.
But don’t you all think that it’s a requirement of a writer to ask all those questions?
I took a nap today and before I fell asleep I thought, What would happen if everybody was connected to someone else and could only die once that other person died. If you got sick or were injured you could survive because you were spiritually attached to someone else? Overpopulation of the world, that’s what would happen. But that’s not the point. The point is that we ask ourselves these weird questions, file them away, and write books answering them later.
And it’s totally okay! No one can say our questions are annoying because frankly, it’s just a consequence of our job.
Job Hazard Zone: too many questions.
My teachers in middle school were right after all, there are no such things as stupid questions, and even if there are, those stupid questions lead to really interesting answers, which lead to even more really interesting questions.
Moral of this post, it’s not possible to ask too many questions. Our curiosity drives our imaginations and surely that’s a good thing.
Because seriously, have you ever wondered if seals accidentally breath in water like people sometimes do when they’re swimming? Or why a Dogfish is called a Dogfish? I know I have!
The Writing Community
Sophia’s post has inspired me, particularly her comments about how welcoming and supportive the writing community is. I had written a first novel and knew writing was something I wanted to pursue and decided to take the leap into blogging and joining twitter. At some point in those months (I say that like I don’t remember the exact moment, which in fact I do. Here’s the blog post: The First Paragraph), Sophia commented on my post. It was a huge turning point for me, some random stranger had commented on my blog and ended up wanting to be critique partners.
I am not a naturally competitive person. I feel bad when sports teams lose, even when I’m cheering for a particular team. I love games but constantly wish everyone could tie. And I really dislike working really hard for something and still not winning or doing well, especially when there are other people I am competing against. Those reasons must be why I quit sports after 7th grade and joined choir and did musicals instead. I adore the writing community for some of these exact same reasons, everyone is so darn welcoming and supportive. Strangers comment on blog posts and offer what help then can. Big shot writers add you on twitter and offer advice. Some may give you harsh critiques, but I haven’t yet encountered anyone who tells others to quit writing entirely, they always say to keep learning and work hard.
How often do we have the chance to belong to a community as wonderful as this?