End of November

Well, that's it. No more NaNoWriMo; no more Movember.

Close your laptop and shave that patchy neck fuzz. And on Monday, you should probably take a shower and go to work.

Seriously, you look homeless.



Image via This is Africa.

NaNoWriMo Writing Tip of the Week #5

Soliciting Your Work

You may well ask what sort of authority I have to advise anybody on this matter. "Do you have any publishing deals?" you're no doubt asking. "Have you ever even spoken to an editor? My God - do you even have an agent? You didn't even make it past the second day of NaNoWriMo, did you?!"

Well, no. Because any motivation aside from food is wasted on me. I'm basically a small performing animal. I have, however, had stories accepted for publication - twice. Once when I was fifteen and sent an essay in to a Seventeen Magazine Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants contest, and again a few months ago at Hoot Review, where they'll soon be publishing my two-sentence story on a postcard. That's a 66.6-repeating percent success rate, which means I'm pretty much a seasoned professional by now.

Still, I'll understand if you want to take this list of My Path to Staggering Success and change the title to "How Not to Get Something Published."

1. Do your research. Prep exhaustively. The best thing about calling yourself a writer is that everything you do can be considered research. No matter what you're doing, you can claim that you have a character who does that very thing.
   
   This is especially helpful when you fancy yourself an autobiographer. "I cannot write about life unless I have first lived it!"
   
   Actually, I think Lena Dunham said that once, or something like it. And now she has a multi-million dollar book deal. But I bet most of what she did to prepare for that was probably just to do mundane things like stand around and eat cereal. In different places. Like, Chapter 4: Eatin' Cereal at the Dentist. Chapter 5: Cheerios in London!
   
   . . . Forget I said that. For Cereal is going to be the name of my memoirs. I claimed it on the interwebs, and now it is mine.
   
2. Write something. Length doesn't matter. Quality is in the eye of the beholder. So just write your heart's song. Read it aloud to your houseplants once a day for a week. Don't water them, and keep them away from sun. If they're still alive when the week is done, you'll know that it was the power of your words alone that has sustained and nourished them. If the plants are dead, however, then I'm sorry. You're just not ready.
   
3. Find a place to submit your work. Read through their submission guidelines and formatting policies, and then disregard them. Your work cannot be contained by such stifling boundaries. In fact, those guidelines are really just a test; editors want to see if you have the imagination and boldness to create your own rules. So write your story in different shades of maroon lipstick, all on one long piece of toilet paper! Mix blood and bacon grease together and paint your words on a side of beef! Tattoo each word of your story on a different person; never make the story public!
   
   . . . Wait.
   
   If you want to self publish, try slipping a copy of your story into each of your neighbors' newspapers before they wake up, or tape a copy on a phone pole like a LOST CAT sign.
   
4. Wait for the money and fame to roll in.

There were better pictures, but that coin says Nemo on the side!

Image via Channel 4.

The Day I Became a Notary (AND OTHER FUN THINGS)

Let me tell you about my job.

That wasn't a request.

I work in a law office, in an old farm house surrounded by Amish and the elderly. I'm a receptionist in name but Renaissance woman in practice: I run around the office adding language to documents and fetching files, greeting clients and changing lightbulbs. Some call me the office bitch. But I don't mind. When clients regularly deliver baked goods to my eager arms, sitting at the front desk stuffing envelopes doesn't seem so bad. Plus, then the mail is all sweet and powdered-sugary.

Today I learned how to be a notary, and as soon as I register my signature and the senator approves my appointment, I get my very own rubber stamp and can notarize any document in the state of Pennsylvania.

ANYTHING.

GIVE ME YOUR OATHS, YOUR PROTESTS, YOUR HUDDLED AFFIDAVITS YEARNING TO BE STAMPED AND RECORDED WITH THE REGISTER OF DEEDS.

At least, until I grow drunk with power and abuse my position by notarizing a fish, or a tree. The Association of Notaries takes that shit seriously. ONLY DOCUMENTS. A tree may have limbs, but it can't sign its name. It doesn't matter if what I notarize may someday be a contract that needs a certified copy - my rubber stamp would be confiscated, and they'd make me shred the tree.

You are ruining Arbor Day for us!

Now, here are some fun facts for you about notaries:

1. Notaries have seven powers. They actually use that word in the course. But I just turn to look over my shoulder with a conniving little grin and ask, "Only seven?" Then I guffaw stupidly because I've been spending all my time learning about notarizing instead of practicing any sort of evil laugh.
   
   
2. Notaries have to retake the education course every four years. If I'm still working at the law firm, I'll be twenty-six when I have to renew my certification. At that time, a new president will be waiting to be sworn in. I won't be able to use my parents' health insurance, but I will be able to rent a car. Each of my Mormon friends will have a litter of kids. By 2016, there may be a space colony on the moon, and all the different strains of root vegetables will probably have died out. Thinking about it all made me feel very wistful. "I suppose I have an old soul," I whispered somberly to the old woman in the waiting room who had fallen asleep. "This lady knows what I'm talking about." I said that last part to nobody.
   
   
3. The main duty of a notary is to identify the person who is signing the document or swearing the oath. Apparently, even if they don't have any identification, but you're with someone who knows both of you, that's good enough. For the law. But anyway, while I was taking the course, I thought, "Who is better than anyone else at recognizing things?" Robots with facial recognition software, that's who! Someday, I bet there will be robot notaries - a rotary notary for steampunk businesses - and then I will never have to take this stupid online course again. 

Nobody appreciates roboffice bitch.

Images via Zimbio, Thomasnet, Happy Worker.

NaNoWriMo Writing Tip of the Week #4

Don't write today. That's ridiculous. Do make up a haiku for each Thanksgiving food on the table.



Image via Facebook.

NaNoWriMo Writing Tip of the Week: #3

Motivation

Studies show that negative comments can be an very powerful motivational tool. Someone says, "You can't do that," but instead of puffing your chest up and telling them off, you shrug a little and mumble, "Sure I can."

Then maybe I laugh and say, "Are you kidding? Eight tracks are more valuable than you are - at least they might be worth something to some wealthy, aging hipsters someday after enough time has passed. You should probably just take up a hobby, like flipping coins - even you have to win at that sometimes. But don't try writing anymore. You can't do it."

You square your shoulders and give me a hurt look. "I can, too."

"Not if I take your pencil. And throw your laptop in the tub." And then I scamper off to do just that.

"Are these your underthings hanging over the shower door?" I call from the bathroom. "They're looking pretty ratty. You shouldn't wear these anymore."

"Oh, that is just about enou--"

"My God, what size do you wear?!"

By this point you're pretty mad, and hurt. You'd do anything to prove me wrong. In fact, you'll do whatever it takes to show me that you can do whatever the hell you want, no matter what I say.

See how well that worked?

NaNoWriMo Writing Tip of the Week #2

Let's Get Technical. 

So. It's week two of NaNoWriMo, and lots of people are bragging on Twitter about how they are ahead of their word count and thus free to lounge about gorging on bonbons and fine cheeses.

But let us not forget what happened to that braggy hare while the tortoise determinedly plugged away at his word count. The hare stared at his computer screen for two hours after work, and then gave up and went to see how many grapes he could fit in his mouth. Eventually, he wrote a harried seventy-six words before staggering, satisfied, to bed. Don't forget what happened to him - the braggy hare made technical errors. 

Here are five ways to make you stand out from those who rushed along to hit their word count:

1.  SAID IS DEAD! Try these tags instead:
   
   "I think we should get Mexican tonight," she opined. This one really lets your reader know exactly how the sentence was said, and it uses a fancy word. 
   
   "Look, Carl, a red cat!" he hissed. Get creative with your dialogue tags! This is called reverse personification/dehumanization/animification. Just because there isn't a single S in that sentence doesn't mean the speaker didn't get on the ground and wiggle like a snake. And how does a snake speak?
   
   This technique is rather controversial among the literary community. But would you say that if I grew fangs and an unkempt mane and ran around eating woodland animals, I still couldn't growl the words "What a nice fellow you are" at someone?
   
   "Sometimes I get so lonely I ride the subway all the way to the end. If I wait long enough and sit very still, maybe somebody will accidentally sit next to me," she laughed. Above all things, editors love complex, multi-dimensional characters. Make the tone contrast with the actual words, and you'll have readers drooling over your elegant treatment of your characters' psychological profile.
   
   
2. Voice:
   
   Voice is one of the most important aspects of your writing. It's what will separate the wheat from the chaff, writer-wise. So here's an exercise to try:
   
   Pick out your favorite dirty word. Make sure it's a good one - one that feels just right when you roll it around your tongue. Now go into the bathroom, where the acoustics are stellar, and say the word to yourself in the mirror. Whisper it softly by the faucet, then scream the word, but muffle the shout with a bath towel. Put a little lilt at the end of the word. Turn on the shower; find out how the word would sound if you said it under water. Maybe use a couple of accents. Know the word in any other languages? Try sounding like the opposite gender, or pretend you've smoked a pack a day since you were six.
   
   Bonus: Do this dirty word exercise at work or school, and nobody will ever make fun of you again. At least, not to your face.
   
   
   
3. Description: 
   
   If you want to be a successful writer, it's all about the details. People will tell you that the days of exhaustive description are over, having died out with Dickens. "He was being paid by the word," they'll say. "You'll be lucky if you get paid at all!"
   
   I disagree. In this stark, postmodern, minimalist literary climate, your writing will stand out only if you hearken back to the chapter-long descriptions of meals and scenery. Readers always want to know more - more back story, more motivation, more physical details about minor characters. Next time you start a scene, try asking yourself these questions, and I think you'll see a definite improvement in the quality of your writing:
   
   Write a scene in which your character is waking up in the morning. In fact, this is probably the best way to start out every chapter. How many birds are tweeting outside? Which parts of her body are achy, and which feel pretty okay? Is she hungry? Has she drooled all over her satin pillow? Has a stray animal wandered into her bed in the night? Let the reader really get inside the character's head by listing seventy-five reasons why she chose yogurt over an egg white omelet for breakfast. Really want to catch an editor's attention with your gritty realism? Detail your character's bowel movements.

Image via All Posters.

NaNoWriMo Writing Tip of the Week: The First

Set Your Writer's Table

A cluttered work space reflects a cluttered mind. A cluttered mind puts forth cluttered writing, and soon you find yourself writing nothing but threatening messages in the thick layer of dust coating every surface, your poor manuscript forgotten on the ... well, it's somewhere around here. Under a planter, in the refrigerator, lining a tiny hole as insulation for a rat's nest - who knows.

If you want your readers to feast on delicate morsels of finely-crafted sentences, then create a calm, decadent atmosphere in which to surround yourself. Light some candles. Hire a butler. Dress in your finest each time you sit down to write. Your writing will likewise become sophisticated and refined, and whoever designs your book cover will probably put a monocle on there.

Daily Exercise:  Create a meal that reflects whatever project you're working on at the moment. Set the table and reserve a place for your manuscript, as well. Pour it a glass of wine. Cut its meat for it. Then, lovingly and sensuously, smear the food you've prepared over every page you've written. Let the words absorb every particle of food; stain your writing with sauces and grease; grind any leftover crumbs into the very fibers of the paper. Once that's done, place your manuscript squarely upon your plate, cut off a corner, and eat it. Eat the whole thing. Only then can you truly become your story.

Below are the plates of authors who have successfully used this technique:

Oscar Wilde

Harper Lee

Dr. Seuss

Edward Gorey

Ernest Hemingway

Images via Tim Chester, Travel & Leisure, Kate Sears for Martha Stewart, District GPS, 30 Pounds of Apples, Clairey Hewitt.