Posts Tagged writing

The Longhand Writing Challenge

Back when I spent a lot of time on the (wonderful) Absolute Write forums, I loved it when someone would mention a writing program like Scrivener or StoryMill. Because comments like these would inevitably follow:

Writing Longhand

Credit: Abizern

“Pshh…Hemingway didn’t have Scrivener. He got along just fine.”

“All those extra features are so overwhelming! Give me good old Microsoft Word any day.”

“Word processor? Please. I write by hand.”

At which point I’d come in with something like:

“Pen and paper? Ha. I “penned” my first novel with stone and chisel.”

My passive aggressive point being that every writer has his or her own method, so let’s not judge someone for wanting to use a high-tech option. And yes, it was a bit defensive of me, because my love for Scrivener knows no bounds.

But I have a confession: I never write by hand. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I wrote by hand last year (and of course I mean wrote creatively, not signed documents and filled out forms).

And I want to try longhand.  Maybe not an entire novel, but just a little something every week. I think writing this way engages the brain a little differently – I’ve even heard some writers claim that their prose is more natural when they write by hand because they use smaller and/or simpler words (or maybe they’re just not constantly clicking open the thesaurus).

Of course, then you have writers like me, with handwriting so godawful it’s practically undecipherable. But what’s really stopping me from writing longhand? The following are the embarrassing but true reasons why:

  1. It physically hurts. That’s how out of practice I am. When I write solidly for longer than five minutes, my hand actually begins to cramp up. (And I’m a percussionist – you’d think some of those developed muscles would help me out a little bit.)
  2. I’m so lazy it’s ridiculous. Every time I glance at a notebook, my brain is all “come on, you’re just going to have to type it all into your laptop eventually anyway…just skip this step.”
  3. Seriously – if my handwriting were a font, it would be called “drunk chicken stepped in paint and did the conga.”

The funny thing is that if I could just get over number 2, I could probably fix numbers 1 and 3 with time and practice. So that’s what I’m going to do.

My personal challenge for 2013 is to write longhand. An entire book? Probably not – but I’m aiming for a scene per week or two. By the end of this year, I don’t want to glance over at the bottom of the bookshelf and see that sad little notebook I bought months ago with so many blank pages. I want notebooks – plural – filled with scribbles and scrawls and drunk chicken scratch. I want to find out for myself whether or not writing longhand changes my prose, or anything about the stories I tell. Heck – I just want to spend less time on my laptop in general.

None of this is to say I’ll give up Scrivener – never! It makes keeping track of separate drafts so ridiculously simple, and it’s very practical for keeping my books organized.

What about you – do you write by hand often? Do you want to? And for the love, if anyone has any tips on how I can improve my first grade teacher nightmare handwriting, I’m all ears.

 

Michelle Schusterman is an author, musician, screenwriter, and Vogon poet living in Queens. Her middle grade series, I HEART BAND, will be launching in January 2014 with Penguin/Grosset. You can find her on KidLit Network, Twitter, and Tumblr.

Character Lessons from Doctor Who

If I say watching a television show is a study in writing, does doing so then qualify as “work?” (More importantly, can I write off Netflix when I do my taxes?)

I watch Doctor Who for the awesome characters, creative sci-fantasy elements, and off-the-wall stories, all of which have taught me a ton about writing (and often leave me shaking my fist and screaming “MOFFAT!”). But after every episode, I feel more inspired as a writer – and more inspired to mess with my characters. If you’re a Time Lord fan, or a would be-fan, beware: ahead there be spoilers.

1. Give minor characters so much history and personality and life that they could carry their own series.

Most episodes of Doctor Who introduce new characters who are only present for that episode. They could easily be two-dimensional, but they rarely are. As an example, take the series four episode, “Midnight,” which is more psychological horror than your normal whimsical Doctor stuff. Not a single character on the shuttle (aside from the Doctor) would ever appear in another episode, but they were as real and developed as any long-time companion…making their actions and fates near the end of the episode all the more horrifying.

This isn’t to say that every single name you drop in your novel should have a five-page character sheet. In fact, that can be detrimental – “character soup” is something I often have to deal with in edits. But your story will be all the more rich and real if each character has problems and passions that drive their actions, no matter how short their page time.

2. Give everyone a chance to be a hero.

Because good heros (and good characters) are flawed, and they can’t do it all. The Doctor is all kinds of flawed (and if you don’t believe me, you clearly haven’t watched The Waters of Mars). But one of the things I love most about Doctor Who is that so often it’s those minor, one-episode characters I mentioned a few paragraphs up who really save the day, often by some sort of personal sacrifice.

This is particularly valuable in middle grade stories, where the main character is likely very internally focused. Think about Hermione accusing Harry of always trying to be the hero. Sometimes the load must be shared – a great lesson for middle grade characters (and readers). The main character can’t do it alone, and shouldn’t have to.

3. Don’t just be cruel to your characters – be creatively cruel.

Death? So not the worst thing that can happen. Take a look at some of the companions’ fates.

When I think of Captain Jack and the Face of Bo, I want to weep. (Even though Jack’s fate to live a bajillion years and die as a giant head might not be canon, I still just…ack.) Then there’s Rose and her not-quite-Doctor – a strange end to a character arc that managed to be both satisfying and devastating. Martha’s whole year just made me feel bad for her (although admittedly irritated at times). And Amy and Rory – I’m glad they had each other, but if you didn’t tear up at “raggedy man, good-bye” then you have no soul.

But let’s look more closely at Donna, because she’s my favorite companion. She doesn’t die. She doesn’t lose any family members or friends (that she knows of). She’s not physically or mentally harmed in any way. She is, in fact, the exact same person she was before she met the Doctor – a temp from Chiswick in a wedding dress. We last see her happily leaving a church with her new husband and a winning lottery ticket tucked in her cleavage.

Sounds like a happy ending, yeah? But in context it’s a more brutally heartbreaking finale than anything I could’ve possibly imagined for her. For her, Donna. That’s the key – it was an ending that wouldn’t have had the same emotional impact with any other character. It could only work with Donna, with her cutting humor masking that enormous inferiority complex, with her mother who constantly made her feel worthless, with her gradual development into becoming a woman who would quite literally save the world. Maybe it’s not a fate worse than death, but for the Doctor (and the viewers) it was gut-wrenching. And it would have been for Donna, too, if she could only remember.

What are the stakes for your characters? The threat of death is certainly motivating, but try being more creatively cruel. Think of Artemis Fowl in The Time Paradox, forced to deal with the consequences of his own regrettable actions by literally confronting his evil 10-year old self. Pinpoint what really makes your characters afraid and vulnerable, and make them face it head-on.

Any other Whovian writers out there? What lessons have you learned from the Doctor? I’d love to hear them!

Michelle is the author of the upcoming I HEART BAND series (Penguin, Fall 2013), about the thrills and spills, practices and performances, crushes and crises of middle school band geeks. She’s a screenwriter for a Manhattan-based TV/film production company and lives in Queens with her husband (and band mate) and their chocolate lab (who is more of a vocalist). She blogs, tweets, and tumblrs.

How to write (or be) funny

When I think funny, and in particular, funny middle grade novels, the first character I think of is

Charlie Joe Jackson.

Charlie Joe belongs to Tommy Greenwald, who is also pretty funny. When his first book, Charlie Joe Jackson’s Guide to Not Reading was released, I interviewed him HERE. (For a while, after I posted that interview, people thought I was funny, too!)

Well…..now Charlie Joe is BACK with Charlie Joe Jackson’s Guide to Extra Credit. And I am still laughing. But now I want to know more.

Because, like a lot of writers, I would really like to know how to write funny, So, instead of an interview, I thought I would ask Tommy to share some of his secrets.

Because he is very funny.

And generous.

Or maybe he wants a favor from me.

Because he did it!

Are you ready to learn? Because here he is:

 

Write my blog post, Tommy!!!!!

(no problem, Sarah!)

People always ask me how am I able to write such funny books.

 

Then they realize I’m not who they thought I was, and they give me a slightly embarrassed look and walk away.

 

I think that may be what happened with Sarah, the nice woman who asked me to write this blog. (note from Sarah: flattery may not be funny, but it gets you everywhere!!) But the difference is, she asked me over email, so she can’t tell that I’m not the person she thought I was. And if she’s walking away embarrassed, I can’t see her.

 

So I’m writing the blog anyway. Just try to stop me.

How do you write funny? Wow, that’s a really good question. It’s kind of like asking, How do you BE funny? There’s no real answer. There are just a few tidbits, hints, suggestions, guidelines, bits of nonsense and wild guesses that I can share. It might help you. But it probably won’t.

 

  1. Don’t overdo it. I learned this the hard way, when I was starting out with my writing, and trying to make every situation hilarious and ridiculous and side-splitting. That just ended up making my writing completely overwrought. Keep the humor subtle, sly and surprising. Let it sneak up on you while you’re writing, and it will sneak up on the reader too. (In a good way, not in an “intruder in your house” kind of way.)
  2. Don’t underdo it. Don’t be so subtle, sly and surprising that no one gets what you’re trying to do. There’s nothing wrong with a good, solid gastro-intestinal joke every forty-seven pages.
  3. Let the characters be funny. I’m not sure this one makes sense, but I’ll say it anyway. Your job isn’t to be funny. It’s to make sure the characters are funny. The sense of humor has to be theirs, not yours. Don’t show the world how funny you can be. Show the world how funny your characters can be.
  4. Let the comedy breathe. Meaning, when something funny just happened in your writing, let the reader enjoy it for a little while. Don’t be in a rush to be funny again immediately. Take your time, get into a nice rhythm, relish in the chuckle you’re getting, then go in for the kill again a page or two later.
  5. POV. Make sure your characters have a distinct personality and point-of-view right away, complete with quirks. If the reader knows that the main character is a sarcastic, somewhat obnoxious book-hater right off the bat, then the reader knows some hopefully-entertaining commentary and situations will result.
  6. First Person rocks. I’m a huge fan of writing in a character’s voice. I’m not saying it’s for everyone, but I’ve found it’s a lot easier to make a character funny when he’s able to offer snarky asides and then get completely humiliated directly to, and in front of, the reader.
  7. Do what comes naturally. Every writer has their wheelhouse. For me, it’s writing humor. The idea that I could write a complicated dystopian romance is comical in its own right. Not a snowball’s chance in Phoenix. But I can write funny, so I go with it. Write to your strength. It’s impossible to force the funny.
  8. Eat a ton of chocolate and play with your dogs a lot. That’s what I do, anyway. (note from Sarah: FINALLY! something I can do!!!)

 

So, there you have it. My non-rules for writing humor. Follow them at your own risk. Except for the gastro-intestinal joke thing. That’s a must.

 

Thank you, Tommy!

You’re welcome, Sarah!

READERS: if you want a good laugh,

and we KNOW you do…..

check out Charlie Joe Jackson’s Guide to Extra Credit. If you would like people to look at you funny, read Charlie Joe Jackson’s Guide to Extra Credit IN PUBLIC! It’s a fun book.

(Just don’t drink anything while you’re reading. If you know what I mean!)

And don’t forget….if you have a question for Tommy….or you want to try making him (or me) laugh, post a comment!!! 

Sarah Aronson is the author of books with mostly subtle humor. (Another way of saying: not really all that funny. But still good. Just not all that funny.)