SUBLIMINAL MONDAY: SCHMOOZING WITH THE STARS

Thursday night I went to the Rock Bottom Remainder show at the Electric Factory in Philly. First, let me say, I was mildly devastated that my only idol besides Stevie Nicks, the effervescently brilliant, Stephen King, was not there. According to Mitch Albom's wife, he's not been touring much since his terrible accident a few years ago. That said, it was a fun evening. [When life hands you Stephen King-less lemons, you make Amy Tan lemonade.]

Here I am in the car on the way to the show. Can you tell how nervous I was? No? Okay, well never mind. [I was a nervous wreck. At that point, I still thought Stephen King was in my immediate future.]

My sister, Sharon, who had flown in from Denver at the last minute to help me through a very difficult time [can you say, "understatement?"], along with my awesome son, Adam, joined me in this adventure. Adam's a punk-rock drummer sporting a brand new killer tattoo, so he fit in perfectly with all the geeky writers in attendance.

The pre-party included an open bar, passed hors d'oeuvres [don't ask me how long it took to google the correct spelling on that], as well as a nice spread of food including chips, salsa, guacamole, and an assortment of chocolate goodness. To give you an idea of how crappy my week's been, I didn't eat any chocolate. Not one bite. Crazy, right? I did, however, have my first cocktail in nearly a year. I sipped it slowly over three hours, so no buzz occurred, but it was more of a declaration of independence than an attempt at getting drunk.

I'd hoped to meet Jen Weiner, but she arrived a bit late and went straight up on stage. (Sorry this picture of her is so dark - my camera takes horrible far-away-in-the-dark pictures.) She rocked it big time, and has a terrific sense of humor. Also on stage were Scott Turow, Mitch Albom, Ridley Pearson, Dave Barry, Roy Blount, Jr, Kathi Kamen Goldmark, and Amy Tan. They are a funny, talented, group of writers masquerading as musicians. Actually, a few are pretty damn good musicians, like Mitch Albom, for example, who in his early years played in numerous bands and attended the Berklee College of Music.

There best songs were the few originals they threw in. One was called, "I'm In Love with a Proofreader" she's got a big dictionary, real good grammar, and never says between you and I and a song where the chorus was, all you reviewers can kiss my ass!

Amy Tan and Scott Turow get the award for most outrageous. Amy came out in a big, blonde, Debbie Harry wig and performed "One Way or Another" (you can see her in the pic above on the left). She also did a hysterical dominatrix version of "These Boots are Made for Walking." Scott Turow did a few songs in a clown wig and Cubs baseball shirt that hung past his knees (next to Amy in above pic). The guy is certifiably hilarious. Mitch Albom did an Elvis impersonation good enough to score him a job in a chapel in Vegas.

Here are a few pics of me and Amy Tan (above) and me and Mitch Albom and his lovely wife, Janine, who also has a terrific voice.

Speaking of Stevie Nicks, when I met Mitch we kind of got into a friendly tiff over the talent of the lovely Ms. Nicks. I said (and Mitch's astute wife agreed) that no musician is more talented. He disagreed but, in the interest of not being pummeled by two devout Stevie fans, let the subject go. I turned to my sister and said, "I can't believe I'm arguing with Mitch Albom about Stevie Nicks." [Life is full of unexpected strangeness these days.]

I told AA that, besides selling my book for enough money for me to cohabitate with Rick Branson on his private island, I also want to be a part of this band in a couple of years. When I told Mitch's wife I was a singer/songwriter for over 30 years, she told me I couldn't be in the band because, "only people who suck" can join. I told her I'd work on that.

All in all, given the week from hell I've had, it was a great night. And the best part was that the proceeds went to the Philadelphia Free Library. Music and writing together; it doesn't get any better than that.

SUBLIMINAL MONDAY: It's Party Time! [Writers are masochistics. Pass me a Valium]

Cue your favorite music - it's PARTY TIME! Why? Because I finished Draft #4, baby!!! [Nobody cares.] What a freaking relief that was! The key was definitely the simmering. I may not have a clue in the kitchen, but with my story, I can simmer like a rock star. ["May not have a clue in the kitchen" = understatement of the millennium.]

I will read through my finished novel once more out loud to my kitties and my muse, and then I'll send it off to Awesome Agent for her praise and compliments. [My name is Debbie, and I am delusional. I haven't had a delusion in, oh wait, never mind.]

Now that I'm done trudging through the Valley of Pain and Suffering, I can say this without hesitation: Writing is fun! I can't wait to do it again! It's easy; everyone should try it! [All writers are masochists. Pass me a Valium.]

Since Draft #4's in the history books, I no longer have to spend every spare moment banging my head trying to figure out how to bring the plot together or how to tie up loose ends. I'll read through once more with only the lightest of edits [see above SM re: delusions], and pass it along to AA for her shimmering stamp of approval. ["Hmm, pumpkin. It's good, but you're not quite there yet..."]

Then, we'll sell it for big bucks and I'll retire to a chalet in the south of France, or perhaps a mega-large beach-front cottage in Tahiti, or a penthouse suite in NYC's Upper West Side., or maybe Richard Branson will sell me his island in the Caribbean, (or at least time-share it with me). I'll become one of the "beautiful people" hobnobbing with the rich and famous, and will have to wear shades and a baseball cap just to get my mail. [That is SOOOO unrealistic! DUH!!! I'd HIRE someone to pick up my mail.] Anyway, you get the picture. I'll have it made in the shade, become a fat cat, be sitting pretty, or INSERT FAVORITE CLICHE HERE.

Back to the Land of Reality...

When I finished the fourth draft, I asked myself this deep, philosophical question: If you were a trust fund baby &/or won the lottery, would you continue to write? Surprisingly, the answer was, "Yes!" [Liar, liar pants on fire.] But not because of the usual writer BS of, "ohmygod, I couldn't live if I didn't write!" Hell, no! I'd live, and I'd be just fine. I might even have a tan, get rid of the fat ass I sit on every day TO WRITE, own clothing other than sweats, and try to get me some "class." [And right after that, I'd join the Tea Party and campaign for my girl, Sarah!]

And what would I do with all that "extra" time? Read, which would make me only slightly less boring than when I write. [Impossible.] So, what's the point? I may as well write, right? [Wrong. Pay close attention: NOBODY CARES.]

So, what about you? What would you do if you were a gazillionaire? Would you still write or would you do something more fun and less frustrating, like say, watching the grass grow? [And don't say you have to write or you'll die, because unless you're Stephen King (who I'LL BE MEETING IN PERSON THURSDAY NIGHT!!!), no one believes that crap.]

I've got VIP tix to see Stephen King and The Rock Bottom Remainders this Thursday, which means, I get to meet the band for an hour & a half before the show starts. My son, Adam, will be my date. Oh yeah, there will be a blog post!!!!!!!

SUBLIMINAL MONDAY: Olympic Level Writing

Watching Olympic level figure skaters this weekend made me think about my writing. If these wonderful young athletes [16 years old? Are you freaking kidding me? I freaking HATE THEM!] can rise from slumber long before dawn and practice hours at a time from about five minutes after they burst from the womb, then why can't I write for 4-8 hours each and every day? [Because that would assume a thing called "discipline" which, if my bathroom scale could talk, would tell you is sorely missing from my life.]

My main problem is distractions. Annoying phone calls from Stephen King pleading for writing tips [who do you think helped him write, "On Writing?"] and emails from Hollywood film agents needing option and casting advice distract me and get in the way of my precious writing time. [Actual distractions include Twitter, spider solitaire, frequent chocolate breaks, and napping]. I've considered hiring an assistant to field calls from Stephen and Hollywood, but haven't found the spare time to advertise. [BWAHAHA! What would I have an assistant do - surf the internet for pictures of Ashton Kutcher to add to my collection? Hmm, not a bad idea...]

So, in order to step up my writing game to Olympic levels, I've decided to make some changes. After all, you do not become an Olympic champion overnight. Here's my game plan:

1) VLOGGING: I'm going to start vlogging. What is vlogging, you ask? It's video blogging. You'll click on my video and listen to me talk. Isn't that like totally mega-fabulous? [Snore.] I plan to have my first vlog up later this week.

In order to accommodate this leap into modern technology, I bought a Flip Ultra HD. Ain't she pretty? Yes, folks, I'll be imparting vitally important information about writing via the magic of a cell-phone-sized video camera. If you're nice, I may even serenade you with an original song or two. [More snoring.] Let me know what types of things you'd like me to discuss, and be sure to keep your requests G-Rated. After all, my parents read my blog religiously. [2-3 times a year when I visit them and guilt them into it.]

2) NO TWITTER 'TIL NOON!: In order to fully concentrate on my work, I'm not turning Twitter on until noon. Talk about a MAMMOTH sacrifice. [I get up at eleven, so it's really no big deal.]

3) EATING LESS SWEETS: I'm cutting back on my enormous daily intake of sugar. You may not understand how the intricate complexities of less sugar ties in with upping my writing game since this is quite a complicated physiological matter, so let me explain. [I've no flipping idea.] When you take life to a whole new level, you need less sugar. Less sugar = more sustained energy = more and better writing. I swear, this is true. [I made the whole thing up.]

So, there you have it, folks. My new regimen for upping my writing game: vlogging, no tweeting 'til noon, and less sugar. Pretty brilliant, eh? [About as smart as Sarah Palin discussing anything remotely political.]

Although, I think this plan is like totally amazing, dude, my husband's not impressed. Ever since he started training for his first marathon this coming May, he thinks he's all that and a bag of treadmill-shaped chocolate chip cookies Woohoo, big deal, he's running a marathon. [I couldn't run a single block even if a pack of wild wolves were chasing me.] I, on the other hand, am officially in intensive training to be an Olympic-level writer, which is way more incredible than completing a stupid 26.2 mile run. [Are you laughing? Do you think this is some kind of joke?]

So, my dear friends, I'm off to make Olympic-sized lifestyle changes so I can make Olympic-sized literary history. Anyone care to join me? [What? You wouldn't follow me if I were the last person on earth and was dropping $100 bills behind me?]

My special SUBLIMINAL MONDAY gift to you. Click on the link below and enjoy:

Favorite Olympic moment: Torvill and Dean skating their unmatchable dance to Ravel's Bolero, winning them the title of 1984's Olympic winners in ice dancing. Sheer perfection.

Stephen King - On Writing, Part II

First of all, I loved this book. It's informative, funny and (duh!) well-written. If it looked anything like David here, I'd marry it.

Pearls of Wisdom:

1) We each have a Toolbox that contains writing fundamentals: vocabulary, grammar and style. The further down we dig in the box, the more compelling the story will be. Interesting since I touched on this concept in my 4.2.09 post entitled "Creating Something from Nothing."

2) His two theses for this book include: Good writing = mastering the fundamentals and Read a lot, write a lot. Re: writing - How much is a lot? For him, that's 2,000 words per day. His books tend to be in the 180K range and he takes an average of three months to write a first draft. The way I look at it, find your target word count goal and divide by 90 (days in three months). For example, if your target word count is 90K, then write 1,000 words a day on average.

3) Novels contain three things: Narration, description and dialogue. Narration moves the story from Point A to Point B, Description creates a particular "reality," and Dialogue brings your characters to life. Where's the Plot you ask? Nowhere! The story should drive the novel, not the plot. Plotting and spontaneity of real creation are not compatible! Stevie says, "Plot is, I think, the good writer's last resort and the dullard's first choice. The story which results from it is apt to feel artificial and labored." Also, "Story is honorable and trustworthy; plot is shifty, and best kept under house arrest." Hey, folks, I'm just the messenger. Keep your hate mail to a minimum. Remember, I'm a highly sensitive artist-type. Thanks.

4) SK believes stories are relics, part of an undiscovered, preexisting world. Our job as writers is to use the tools in our toolbox to yank those suckers out of the ground as intact as possible. I agree, and it's the same with songwriting. I wrote a song about this topic MANY years ago (when I was no more than a wee lass). I've included the lyrics below.

5) SK's opinion on writing classes/seminars? Maybe, not-so-much. You are your own best teacher.

6) Ideal Reader: Every writer needs one. (SK's is his wife, Tabitha, also an accomplished writer.) This is the person who knows you best and will be brutally honest with you. When searching for your IR, you might first want to consider the person who shares your bed (or life) with you. This is also the person who (besides yourself) you write your books for. (Pictured: Stephen, Tabitha and their son, Owen.) My IR is my husband, Chuck. He's a great writer and his editing and review skills are uncanny. Each time he gets his hands on one of my chapters it improves exponentially. Thanks, hon!

7) Eliminate ALL unnecessary words. Seriously, all of them. This is different than "Kill your darlings" (which SK did NOT pen, btw). This refers more to the excess words we writers place in sentences because we're so darn smart, lazy and enamored with description.

8) Kill Your Darlings He didn't say it first, but he loves the phrase - so do I. Eliminate all scenes, no matter how brilliant, that are not part of your story. These may include back story and anything that is not the story you're trying to tell. This reminds me of the "conversation" Michelangelo had when asked how he carved David. "Easy. I simply carved away everything that wasn't David." Um, yeah, "easy."

9) 10% Rule - The second draft should be 10% "lighter" than the first. This is after you've eliminated unnecessary words and murdered your darlings. If your first draft is 80,000 words, your second should be 72K. Sorry folks. Again, I'm just the messenger.

When asked, "How do you write?" Stephen answers, "One word at a time." And when asked what writing is he says, "Telepathy, of course."

Which brings me to the lyrics I wrote all those years ago. I pictured songs "floating" around in the universe, not buried in the ground. However, same concept...

VOICES IN THE WIND (6.28.81)
Songs from within the wind, rap upon their doors
Currents whisper to lookers who will hear
Camouflaged dancers all waiting for a show
Waiting for their show
To talk and laugh and sing

Magical murmurs are asking to be caged
So they may open up and speak their minds on stage
Absent are heartbeats, still they're living for a word
Asking to be heard
To talk and laugh and sing

To talk and laugh and sing
A message each does bring
To have the chance to say

I hope you've enjoyed this trip into the mysterious world of writing. My thanks to Stevie for clarifying a bit of the mystery. And to my IR and life partner, Chuck for sticking with me regardless of how the story turns out.

Stephen King - Not So Scary

After being nudged by the universe several times lately, I finally listened and picked up a copy of Stephen (aka Stevie) King's "On Writing" last night. Holy shit, Sherlock! Is this a book, or what? Only halfway through, I've discovered I'm doing (practically) everything wrong. Well, not really, but kinda sorta. Here's what I've gleamed so far:

1) Adverbs = bad, very bad. Eerily, terribly, creepily, forcefully, horrifically bad!

2) He guffawed. She gasped. He agreed. She snipped. All bad, very bad. He said/she said should do the trick, providing you've worked your writing magic thereby insinuating the "guffawed, gasped, agreed, and snipped." And even worse? She gasped wearily. He agreed righteously...

3) Write the first draft for yourself with the door closed. Rewrite for others with the door open. Who knew Stevie was so feng shui? (And, who knew the teachers in my life, both male and female, would be named Stevie?)

4) Use the vocabulary you know. Don't try to be flashy or intellectual. Example:
"They hugged." vs "They were locked in a deep embrace." (Unless you write romance!)

5) Use active verbs not passive! Here's a few examples:
Passive: "The party will begin at six o'clock."
Active: "The party's at six."
Passive: "The sofa was moved into the family room."
Active: "We moved the sofa into the family room."
Passive: "I had inquired into the location of the parade."
Active: "Where's the parade?" I said.


Interesting tidbits about Stevie's past:
One day when Stevie was six and his brother, Dave was eight, they were a half-mile from home playing in an old junkyard. Stevie needed to "use the facilities" but, of course, this was an old junkyard, not the Marriott. "Use leaves to wipe yourself, just like real cowboys and Indians!" said Dave. Stevie looked around, gathered a pile of shiny leaves, and did it like a man. What were those shiny leaves? Poison Ivy. Ouch.

He started submitting his writing at the age of 14. By 16, he'd collected an impressive pile of rejection slips that he nailed to his bedroom wall.

When he was a sophomore in high school he was 6'2" tall! Now he's 8'5". (Kidding!!)

During his final semester of college, he sold his third story for $200 - more than twice the combined revenue of his first two ($65).

In the early '70s, he got an advance of $2500 for "Carrie." Although that was a lot of money to him and his wife, Tabitha, it was a low advance even then. (He had no agent to negotiate for him, btw.) On Mother's Day, 1973 he found out the paperback rights had been sold for $400,000, half of which would go directly to him. The rest, as they say, is history.

I'll write another post in the next couple of days outlining what else I've learned from this ridiculously inspiring book. My advice, if you're not too flashy or intellectual, is to run out and get yourself a copy!

(HINT: At my Borders the book was located in "Horror" with all of Stephen King's books, not in the "Writing" section where I spent five-ten precious minutes searching to no avail.)