NaNoWriMo Anyone? and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday #26

     Yes, it's still September, but I'm thinking of November... and NaNoWriMo looming over my head.

     I plan on doing NaNo this year. Last Spring I was the member of a jury and we spent a week listening to testimony about the murder. What happened in the jury deliberation room was shocking and disappointing to me, and changed forever the way I think about juries. That might be the book I work on...

     If you're knee-deep in a manuscript right now, or you're working on a poetry collection or you're planning on doing NaNo this year, I'd love to hear from you. My 6-8th graders are going to work on NaNo projects... they just don't know it yet. (When I say, "NaNo is coming soon," they think I'm Mork calling Orson.)

And now, onto book blurb stuff:

• Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book.
• You choose the genre. A mystery? A coffeetable book full of creeper photos? A historical piece? You decide.
• Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Lisa Ricard Claro is the original brains behind this writing exercise. Her third romance book just came out in July (Love to Win) so right now she's alternating her time between sitting on her couch and poking into the bottom of pieces of chocolate in a Whitman Sampler (trying to avoid the nasty "jelly"-centered ones) and french-braiding Fabio's hair (he so needs a new look).
• Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. 
• Link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. You don't have to buy him a drink or anything. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is.
• Check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.
• And most importantly, have fun. This is supposed to be enjoyable.

Here is the photo and my it's-done blurb:

A Pretty Good Cook

Mike was some cook. Vienna sausage casserole, topped with a Snapple-reduction drizzle. Bologna spaceships, covered in melted Velveeta. Spam lasagna. Mushroom caps stuffed with squirrel filets. You name it, he could kill it (if needed) and then whip it up in the kitchen.

But cooking anywhere else in the house wasn’t happening. Not at all. It was puzzling. Mike made sure he was always impeccably attired. He was obsessed with keeping his beard combed and oiled… and yet he was still living alone…

… Until one day, when Mike was deep in the woods, hunting for any critter he could put a bead on, he found he wasn’t by himself. There was a woman in the forest with him.

Mike rushed down the hill, falling twice while a greeting tumbled out of his mouth. The woman just stared. And then she chuckled.

Will Mike learn to cook in other places? (150 words)

And here's the photo for next week, Val (and for anyone else who wants to join us).

The Magnificent Mary Karr

       I saw Mary Karr last week, and am going to begin with how she ended. Here is the poem Mary Karr recited--by heart--after an audience member told her she carried a copy of the poem in her wallet for years.

A BLESSING FROM MY SIXTEEN YEARS' SON

I have this son who assembled inside me

during Hurricane Gloria. In a flash, he appeared,

in a heartbeat. Outside, pines toppled.

Phone lines snapped and hissed like cobras.

Inside, he was a raw pearl: microscopic, luminous.

Look at the muscled obelisk of him now

pawing through the icebox for more grapes.

Sixteen years and not a bone broken,

not a single stitch. By his age,

I was marked more ways, and small.

He's a slouching six foot three,

with implausible blue eyes, which settle

on the pages of Emerson's "Self Reliance"

with profound belligerence.

A girl with a navel ring

could make his cell phone go brr,

or an Afro'd boy leaning on a mop at Taco Bell --

creatures strange as dragons or eels.

Balanced on a kitchen stool, each gives counsel

arcane as any oracle's. Bruce claims school

is harshing my mellow. Case longs to date

a tattooed girl, because he wants a woman

willing to do stuff she'll regret.

They've come to lead my son

into his broadening spiral.

Someday soon, the tether

will snap. I birthed my own mom

into oblivion. The night my son smashed

the car fender, then rode home

in the rain-streaked cop car, he asked, Did you

and Dad screw up so much?

He'd let me tuck him in,

my grandmother's wedding quilt

from 1912 drawn to his goateed chin. Don't
blame us, I said. You're your own
idiot now. At which he grinned.

The cop said the girl in the crimped Chevy

took it hard. He'd found my son

awkwardly holding her in the canted headlights,

where he'd draped his own coat

over her shaking shoulders. My fault,

he'd confessed right off.

Nice kid, said the cop.

This is the pose she did after I said, "You're
61 years old? You look gorgeous!  I hate you."

         Here are some quotes of Karr's that I jotted down:

• She was asked by her agent? publisher? where she wanted to do a book signing? She--for sure--wanted to do Boston, because she had taught classes there. She said, "I went there for the signing, and three people showed up."

• "A lot of literature is about longing."

• "Memoir, if done right, is knocking yourself out with your own fist."

• "A dysfunctional family is any family with more than one person in it."

• "I remember myself as smart. There was no evidence I was smart."

• (In writing memoir) "You get ambushed by the truth."

• (As a memoirist) "My goal is to make you feel something."

• "I'm an inefficient writer but a skillful editor."

• When writing one of her memoirs, she threw away 1,200 finished pages... "they went to live with Jesus."

• "I spend a lot of time in my head. I have a big inner life."

• "What is the difference between autobiography and memoir? Well, memoir sounds so much more French. Mem-wah."

• "The ass-whipping is easy to write. It's hope that's hard to write. Hope and love are hard to write."  

What writer would you most like to see in person, and why?

Why I Hate Mary Karr and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday # 25

       A couple of evenings ago I saw Mary Karr's talk on memoir. I was seated surrounded by Lynn Obermoeller, Linda O'Connell, along with Marcia and Jim Gaye.

      I'll post about her talk on Tuesday. Every thing about the night was wonderful. Karr was full of great advice on how to get published. ("Learn to write well.") She was full of confessions. (Sometimes she felt like eating Ho-Hos all day, and was Catholic "but probably not the Pope's favorite Catholic.") She was full of family tidbits. (Her mother was amazed when Karr got an advance for her memoir The Liar's Club. "You mean you get to keep that money? Even if the book doesn't sell?")

     However, as I watched her stride across the room, owning it, in her size 2 white pants and sky-high sandals, wearing her wrinkle-free face, a deep hatred started rumbling around in my heart.

     And when I heard she was 61, I declared my hatred for her--to her face. (She of course thanked me when she heard why I hated her.)

      On Tuesday I'll post more about Mary Karr... and now onto Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday (I know. It's now Saturday, but we were in a car dealership all afternoon and evening and during the day I was at work 'cause, you know, I retired and then went back to work and my knee is really bothering me and if I don't stop this whining I'm gonna have to serve some crackers and some decent cheese to you and Velveeta doesn't count.)

• Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book.
• You choose the genre. A mystery? A coffeetable book full of strange dog photos? A historical piece? You decide.
• Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Lisa Ricard Claro is the original brains behind this writing exercise. Her third romance book just came out in July (Love to Win) so right now she's booked solid, doing book signings in Europe (mostly in France) as she does double duty--she's selling her novels and constantly on the look-out for Johnny Depp. Or Juliet Binoche. Or Maurice Chavalier statues.
• Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. 
• Link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. You don't have to buy him a drink or anything. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is.
• Check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.
• And most importantly, have fun. This is supposed to be enjoyable.

Here is the photo and my lame-o blurb:

One Strange Dog

         Fo-Fo was one strange dog. He was a golden retriever and yet he was aloof. Unlike every other golden, he didn't have human contact too high on his priority list. Fo-Fo was content to spend most of his life waiting... waiting to be a missile.

        This golden boy wasn't made to do anything that took any smarts but he was designed to fly across fields after a ball, a stick, a disc—anything that could be thrown. Fo-Fo lived for racing like a missile in frequent games of fetch.

         But then Fo-Fo's family starts spotting a stranger—often seen walking in front of the house or sometimes just standing in front of their house, seemingly lost in thought.

And then one afternoon, Fo-Fo disappeared. The gate was still closed. No holes were dug under the fence... and the stranger was gone as well.

        Where did Fo-Fo go? (145 words)

        And dig in... Here is the photo for next week:

Mary's Comin'

        Okay, I certainly am not on a first-name basis with Mary Karr. But I thought, 'Perhaps my few followers will read on, intrigued, wondering who Mary is.'

     But Mary Karr is coming to St. Louis this week. Thursday night she will be giving a talk at the St. Louis County Library Headquarters. The doors open at 6, but people start lining up early to ensure a spot.

      Her first two memoirs, The Liars Club and Cherry covered her childhood and her teenage years. Lit is my favorite--it covers her unraveling as an alcoholic and a mother... and her finding her way back.

        I've spent years savoring and reveling in memoirs. Make Me Into Zeus' Daughter. All Over But the Shoutin'. Stolen Lives. These are books that sit on a sacred spot on my shelves. But I also have favorite books on the art of writing.

        On Writing by Stephen King. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. Now Mary Karr has come out with a book on writing memoir.

          I've written a memoir that is thinly disguised as a novel. (The manuscript is with an editor who is probably trying to figure out a way to disguise her lack of interest in it.) Writing gives me great joy. Memoir is how I untangle my life. And writing about the writing of memoir?

          That's just gravy.

          In case you can't make it, or in case you'd like a double helping of Mary Karr, here is a link to a conversation with her. (It's short. A little over 10 minutes long.)

       What is YOUR favorite memoir? Have you written memoir pieces before? Do you have any advice for those who might be just dipping their toes into memoir writing?

"And Still I Rise"... Along With Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday # 24

        Maya Angelou's poem, with the refrain "And still I rise" keeps nudging me.

        One blogging friend, who's battling cancer, recently posted photos of herself--posing with two different wigs and then one picture sans wig. Big, bold earring to match her smile.

       Bold + brave = beautiful

       Another blogging friend has been living a couple of hours away for a while. Now, she's living minutes away from me, which means that perhaps we can get together occasionally to write.

       My knee's still shot, but every morning I get up and hobble through the day, knowing that my health problems are inconsequential compared to others and yet hoping that soon, my past way of living can be restored.

       A manuscript I finished this summer is in an editor's hands right now. And now, I'm thinking about my next project. After all, November (and NaNoWriMo) is right around the corner... 

 And now onto writing a book blurb.
      

• Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book.
• You choose the genre. A YA? A bit of chick lit? A historical romance? You decide.
• Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Lisa Ricard Claro is the original brains behind this writing exercise. Her third romance book just came out in July (Love to Win) so currently she's working on a lofty project:  a sequel to Tolkien's books, with the ultimate goal of penning a screenplay... which means if she succeeds, we'll get another chance to see long-haired Viggo on the big screen.
• Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. 
• Link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. You don't have to buy him a drink or anything. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is.
• Check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.
• And most importantly, have fun. This is supposed to be enjoyable, not stressful.

          Here is the photo for this week, and my finished blurb:

photo by Lynn Obermoeller

The Fierce Phase

When she was young and stupid, Maggie thought she had forever. She ran toward her goals headlong and headstrong.

Living meant taking in big gulps of every bit of joy possible.

In the second phase of her life, she didn't care how much she had left. Maggie hunched over her laptop for hours and hours. She formed a cocoon to insulate herself from others. It was clear this was no life, but Maggie couldn't see any other path to take.

But then she entered into a third phase... and realized her determination would have to be rock-hard if she was going to survive. Better choices. True grit. And eyes trained on the horizon ahead instead of the path behind her.

Will Maggie emerge victorious from this phase? Read to find what life has in store for Maggie, once she carefully sets the fourth stone in place. (146 words)

     Here's the picture for next week... and have a great weekend.

Put a Sock in It!

      A better post title would have been "Put a Sock ON It" but I was trying to snag a few readers with a familiar phrase.

      In case you're not of my two regular readers, I just found out I'm getting old. Falling apart. Getting decrepit. A diagnosis of osteoarthritis last week was like the cherry on top of an already overflowing ice cream sundae.

     Heat helps the knee. However, those things you microwave are expensive... at least more expensive than a sock, a needle and thread and some white rice.

     Directions:  Sew most of opening shut. Use a funnel to get the uncooked rice in. Fill most of the sock up with rice. When you've gripped the bag of rice so firmly that you've dug a hole into the bag and the bag starts leaking into your lap and floor and the dog gets excited because there's now things to lick off the floor, put the bag of rice into a plastic baggy. Finish sewing the sock shut. Microwave the sock for 1 1/2-2 minutes.

     I just heard from my daughter's mother-in-law (via my daughter) that moist heat helps the most, so I will put a damp towel between my knee and the sock when I do it tonight.

     However, the "put a sock in it" applies to what we sometimes say about our writing. Sometimes we speak of a writing project and mumble things like, "Well, it probably won't go anywhere," meaning we doubt it will ever get published, or "It's really not very good."

          Put a sock in it.


      Just state the facts, such as:

• I'm working on ______ project and hope to get it published by _____.
• I'm in the beginning stages of  _______  project.
• I've sent it off to _______ and am waiting to hear from the editor. (You should not add, "which will be when not-heaven freezes over.")

       When was the last time you denigrated your writing, and what did you say about it?