Author Archives: Karen Whalen
Getting cozy
Remember my last blog post where I announced that I was combining my three partial novels into one novel with three main characters, three points of view? I’ve scrapped that idea and moved on to a new one that is certain to be my final one.
Maybe.
You’re probably wondering what possible iteration is left. Drum roll, please. Two novels! “It Takes A Village Store” has transmogrified back into a standalone novel. A cozy, no less. (You may sense the influence of a few of my writing group members.)
I was surprised at how easy it was to transform “It Takes A Village Store” into a cozy. Deciding who to kill was easy–he was an existing, dislikable character. Adding more characters, potential murderers and their motives, was easy as well. Amazing how far you can get without a plot. I’ve volunteered to submit a plot outline to my writing group at our next meeting. Always a challenge for me, a pantser, to quantify my story. Especially before writing it. The other challenge is that my daughter and her family from Virginia (her house is the setting for “The Intruder”/”He’s All She Has”) arrive tomorrow and leave Sunday. And Sunday is Easter.
Excuses, excuses. Don’t worry, dear writing group members, I’ll submit an outline and you’ll help me revise it. And revise it.
That leaves the other two novels fitting together perfectly into one–mother, Anne, and daughter, Olivia. In love with the same man. I’ll definitely have to develop a different take on this overdone concept. Anyway, that’s way off into the future at the rate that I write…
Sunset in Arizona
More than one
Taunted by the books
The royal blue three-ring binder taunts me from its secure spot on the bookshelf. Eighty-one completed pages of “Anne” with additional pages of notes, outlines, and prose tucked here and there. Hidden underneath are two manila folders. One holds “It Takes A Village Store,” 50,065 words of my 2014 NaNoWriMo submission. “Full Circle,” my 2015 submission, 50,212 words total, is ensconced in the other. The main characters of each novel are strong women from the same family, a mother, daughter, and niece/cousin. The setting is the same town for all three novels.
Originally I intended to have the novels comprise a trilogy but now I am reconsidering that. I feel that it makes more sense to combine them into one novel. How did I reach that conclusion? Good question. One issue is that none of the three are long enough in their current state to be a complete novel. Another problem is that they are extensions of each other, their plots and characters interwoven as only a family can be. I could solve the problems by expanding each of them, differentiating the plots so that they stand alone yet remain connected. Or I could stick with my decision to produce a single novel. Flip a coin?
I have looked for novels with more than one main character, and diverse points of view (obviously), for inspiration. I am surprised that the last three random books I’ve read meet those criteria. (“The Valley of Amazement” by Amy Tan; “the speed of light” by Elizabeth Rosner; “Life After Life” by Jill McCorkle.) Each one has taken a different approach, probably none of which will work for me.
A long time ago I heard that first-time authors should stick to a straightforward, one main character, one point of view, story. I can see the wisdom in that advice. Yet I’m in a situation where that won’t work. Unless I write three separate novels. Can you hear my teeth gnashing?
No wonder the binder and the two folders that took up valuable space in my suitcase—at least two pairs of shorts worth–have sat untouched on the bookshelf for two months. (Of course, they also are on my laptop but a hard copy is easier to edit. You’ve got to pick it up to do that.)
My only writing goal for this winter in Arizona was to work on this project. Instead, I have devoted my writing time to my short story, “He’s All She Has” (originally titled “The Intruder”). The last revision of this story garnered the suggestion from John, our facilitator, that I put it aside and move onto something else. And I thought it was one revision away from being completed…I’ll try to put a positive spin on it–guess I’ll have time to work on my novel(s)!
Adios to the gun
Two Thursdays ago I submitted to my writing group for critique my short story “The Intruder” now renamed “He’s All She’s Got.” As usual, my submission generated a fair amount of “positive criticism.”
Our facilitator, John, pointed out that I had “not fully imagined from the inside” the main scene that involved the gun, the intruder, and the tying up to the newel post of my protagonist. I have since attempted to immerse myself deeper into this scene only to discover that I have imagined it to the fullest extent possible. I just can’t write any more realistically about guns and tying up people.
I’ve given my story a hard look–a VERY hard look–and decided to rewrite it with more of a focus on the relationship between the mother and her daughter. I think it best to say adios to the gun scene. What a relief. Eleanor, who has worked tirelessly on a gun scene for possibly years suggested an alternative to my opening scene that does not involve a gun and I’m going to give it a try. Naturally, this change will ripple throughout the story. It’s all for the good. I am better at writing about relationships than guns.
Once again I am thankful for the input from my writing group. Without their advice, I’d–well, I’d be a wannabe writer without any possibility of publication. With them, my odds are slightly better. When we concluded the discussion of my short story, I made a negative comment about it. Immediately, thousands of miles away, I heard “it’s a good story” and “I like your story.” That was enough encouragement for another go-round. Thanks, guys!
What I find of interest is that when I am working on one project, my short story in this instance, all sorts of ideas for my other current project, (my book, “Anne”) erupt unbidden. I do wonder if all other writers have this problem, or if it just belongs to us procrastinators, for whom it is a means of getting out of what we are supposed to be doing.
Last week I took a break from my writing group and writing as my mother, sister and 
brother-in-law visited from New Hampshire. We relaxed by the pool at their resort, did a few tourist activities, and ate out, naturally. We were pleased we could reward them for their long flight with sunshine and some record-breaking temps in the 80’s. Too bad they had to return to temperatures that were nearly 100 degrees lower (with wind chill) than what they enjoyed here.
Now I will have time to write–the grandkids will be in school, Joy will be working, Steve will be golfing, and, oh, darn, the sun will be shining and temps will be even higher….
My (so-called) life as a writer
Technology is great (when it works, of course). For the past two Thursday nights I’ve been able to FaceTime with my writing group back in New Hampshire. I hope the second Thursday was an improvement for them–I used my iPad instead of my iPhone and they added speakers. The only problem on my end is that it’s harder to interrupt someone when you’re an image on a screen!
With the two hour time difference, I had no choice last Thursday but to eat my dinner while we had our discussion. I don’t imagine my slurping spaghetti noodles was a very appealing sight. That won’t be an option this week as I volunteered to submit. Tacky to eat and present at the same time.
Yikes. What was I thinking? I’ve been much too busy enjoying myself in sunny, warm Arizona (not so much today as we had a storm blow through last night–thank you, El Nino) to find time to write. And we’ve had visitors from New Hampshire. And the three grandkids passed a diluted version of their debilitating virus to me which kept me in bed part of this past weekend. And this coming weekend we have family from New Hampshire arriving.
And…that’s my life as a writer. Full of excuses as to why I haven’t written. But as I look through my two yellow pads of paper, I see pages of notes about both my story, “The Intruder,” and my book, “Anne.” But notes, in my book, don’t constitute writing. And as useful as they are to me, I can’t submit them to my writing group.
My notes on “Anne” pertain to combining my three related novels into one, not as easy a task as I originally anticipated. The process of writing my thoughts down on paper led me to the realization that I am starting the novel with Anne’s story and I need to conclude the novel with her story. My original plan was to end the novel with her daughter Olivia’s story. I suppose if I keep writing notes about the book I’ll come to a different conclusion.
I did have a motivational experience at, of all places, my grandson’s soccer tournament in Tucson. The opening ceremonies included the typical dais with a podium, microphone, and folding chairs. And a replica Olympic torch. Just the sight of the dais (sans the torch) transported me back to a scene in “Anne.”
Time to write (revise, finish) the damn book!
So heads up, writing group. If I get my act together, you’ll be reading a new (improved?) version of “The Intruder” this week. If I don’t, well…I’ll just have to blame it on technology.
Do what you love
I’m still hard at work on the short story (“The Intruder”) that takes place in my daughter’s house in Virginia. I reduced the word count and simplified the convoluted plot line and am now ready to smooth the rough edges, increase the word count, and add complexity to the plot line. I plan to have a draft to submit to my writing group “soon” after we arrive in Arizona. Warning to my group: do not expect it the week we arrive (next week).
Recently I read on a writing blog (not certain which one) that a writer (obviously) keeps a journal for each writing project that she works on. I promptly went to Barnes and Noble, purchased one of their ubiquitous,
Journal for short story, “The Intruder
always “reduced price,” journals, and started recording my experience revising my short story. I have two entries.
This is the year (I hope) that we get FaceTime functioning so that I can participate in our Thursday night writing group from Arizona. Even if we are only able to communicate via the phone, I will be satisfied. Without the structure of my group to motivate me, I spend my time there basking in the sunshine, resting, and exploring. Add being a spectator at the numerous sports and activities that our three active grandchildren participate in and you can see why I haven’t gotten much writing done these past two winters.
Something that has limited my writing in Virginia is that, as a Christmas present to myself, I renewed my subscription to Ancestry.com. My daughter and I have been researching rabidly various branches of my husband’s family. She’s traced his paternal grandfather’s ancestors back to hanging out with William Bradford, a Pilgrim governor of Massachusetts. (I thought I had done well to determine my fifth great-grandfather was a Minuteman!) It’s an addictive–and at times frustrating–hobby.
Last year in Arizona I participated in an online support group for writers, “Creative Monsters Club,” with other members from around the world. Our mentor, Marcy Mason McKay, has published (among other writings) an award-winning novel, “Pennies from Burger Heaven.” She soon plans to start work on the second book in the Burger Heaven series. I am going to post a review of her book on Goodreads and Amazon, which I have never done before. The quality and detail of the reviews I have read prior to deciding to purchase a book have deterred me from contributing my own paltry review. But I’m going to take the plunge and submit a brief review of this book. Please read her book–my review is optional!
Stockings filled with coal
When you get to be my age, it’s amazing what an almost fourteen hour trip to Virginia, in steady rain, in a rental car with tires in need of replacement, with GPS directions that you find out are not taking you the way you think you are going until it’s too late to change direction, can do to you the next day. And I was only the passenger. The driver started the trip at six a.m. getting thrown to the ground after being hit in the head by the garage door on its downward trajectory. I think you may get the picture why this post will be short and disjointed!
The good news is we made it to Virginia safe and sound, our suitcases already unpacked and clothes hung in the closets with care, the driver still lively and quick. The last leg of our journey to Arizona will be by sleigh, er, airplane, that is.
I survived, and won, NaNoWriMo, with time to spare but not a creative thought lurking anywhere. I’ve printed my 2014 and 2015 winning submissions and lugged them with my original printed book (“Anne”) with a plan to ignore the Arizona sunshine this winter and return home with a completed draft comprised of an amalgamation of all three novels. We shall see…
Over a year ago I wrote a short story that
Christmas at the Omni Mount Washington Resort
partially is set in my daughter’s house in Virginia. (You may recall the experiment with the weed whacker string.) Another unfinished work. As I walked into her garage last night, after the exhausting trip from New Hampshire, the story engulfed me, reminding me of characters and story lines left hanging, like stockings hung on the mantle filled with coal. They deserve better than that. I just may finish that story this trip.
And Santa just may bring me everything on my list.
Looking forward to 12:01 a.m. December 1
This will be short as the deadline for NaNoWriMo is just three days away. I have attained 42,829 out of 50,000 words with three days without commitments remaining so I predict that I will “win” NaNoWriMo. Yippee!! I am ready for 12:01 a.m. on December 1 to arrive so that I can stop writing “Full Circle” what feels like every free minute of every day.
Of course, I exaggerate. I have taken some extended breaks during the month and I’ve enjoyed every moment of them, especially my vacation to the Cancun area. I only wrote one time out of the five days we were gone but that one time was quite satisfying. I even hit my word count on Thanksgiving day–and I hosted the holiday dinner after returning from my trip at eleven the night before.
What I’ve learned from all of this is that I am able to write regardless of the circumstances. I don’t need the perfect chair (I wrote on the airplane) or to be in the mood to write. I can even write while indulging in (gulp) Hallmark holiday movies. Wish I could say that they didn’t have an influence on what I wrote, though love stories and happy endings aren’t all that bad. Maybe my next novel will take place in a castle…
Another lesson has been that it isn’t that hard to whip out a lot of words if I’m prepared to also whip out a lot of revising. In the future. Revising that I’m actually looking forward to doing. Not lying.
The places that November will take me
Did bragging that I am ahead of my word count for NaNoWriMo on November 2nd jinx my progress? Seven days later, I am now over a full day’s word count (2,000+ words) behind….and feeling that I am destined to fall even further behind.
The graph on the NaNo website states that at my current writing rate, I will hit my 50,000 word goal on December 5, not November 30. As sophisticated as their website is, it doesn’t take into account hosting Thanksgiving dinner, spending five days at a resort near Cancun, Mexico, with my middle daughter and her family, and celebrating my birthday, just to name a few of the activities that I have given permission to distract me from writing.
I should hit the road writing when I get up in the morning–but I don’t. First it’s the local news (usually a repeat of the prior evening’s news) followed by the national news then trying to convince myself that I need to take my medicine and get ready for the day. All things I would do every day of every other month. Except the fact that it is November allows me to use them as excuses to–wait for it–procrastinate!!
The truth is I will take what I get out of NaNoWriMo. Any quantity of words, even in the form of an extremely rough draft, that I can add to my novel or use as the basis for the final novel in my trilogy is a bonus.
As a reminder, I am a pantser (I write without an outline though in this case I have about ten lines of an “outline” composed on Halloween evening). Today I spent hours with my husband at the hospital having his carpal tunnel syndrome evaluated. When we returned home, I started writing. The scene that developed is a medical emergency that sets up a hospital stay!
It’s possible that I am easily influenced by current events. My current events. Unfortunately, this scene is the second medical emergency/hospital stay of the book. And not part of the outline. But it is chronological. No islands when I’m participating in NaNoWriMo.
Can’t wait to find out where 50,000 words are going to take me…..that’s what I love about being a pantser.
It’s November!
Halloween night I spent multi-tasking: handing out Halloween candy and visiting with the parents (the only trick-or-treaters we get are people we know, all of four families), watching the movie “Water for Elephants,” based on Sara Gruen’s book (that I loved), a NaNoWriMo novel, and working on my outline for my own NaNoWriMo novel, “Full Circle.”
And now it’s November 2nd and as I look around my great room I see orange pumpkins and other Halloween decorations. A good
Halloween is over, isn’t it?
sign in some ways. Instead of allowing myself to be distracted by household chores, I’m devoted to the novel I’m writing for NaNoWriMo. And it isn’t about Diana the Huntress after all! (Bad sign: my husband hasn’t put away the decorations either.)
I’ve decided to take the easy way out. I’m writing the fourth and FINAL novel set in Woodbury, NH. (What is a series of four novels called, anyway? A series?) This one is from the POV of Olivia, the daughter of Anne, who is the protagonist of the first novel I ever attempted. The one I started in 1986. Too many years ago to calculate using your fingers and toes so I’ll fess up—that’s one year shy of thirty years.
Using an existing setting and characters for NaNo feels like cheating. OK, to some of you, it is cheating. But it is probably the only way I will win. I’m enjoying myself, knowing that 1) there’s a high likelihood that I’ll win (I’m already ahead of my goal for the first two days of November) and 2) I am going to be done with this series, with these characters, with this setting.
Yup, hard to admit but I am ready to move on to new territory.
I have a feeling that I am going to end up with one novel written from four (or maybe just three) points of view instead of four (or maybe just three) separate novels. As long as I end up with something to show for all of this time spent writing, I’ll be happy. And that means a published novel. Or maybe three. And that’s called a trilogy.…
It’s complicated
With just 13 days—yikes!—until NaNoWriMo starts, I should be well on my way to an outline, character list and setting. At a minimum. And that has been my plan since my failed attempt to win Camp NaNoWriMo in July. It’s a sad story, a common refrain (for me). My July project is floundering and I am unprepared for November.
I thought I had it under control. I knew what my plot was going to be. Sort of. (It’s those “sort of’s” that seem to be my downfall.) All I needed was some additional information from my mother and I’d be ready to outline like a madwoman.
Last night I met with her (my mother, not the madwoman) for what I was certain would be the details that would weave the story together. Alas, all she could tell me was all that she’s already told me.
You may wonder why I need information from my mother to write this story. It’s complicated. But when isn’t it? Back to my resource, my mother. Several years ago, she gave me what I assume is a pewter or silver plated wall frieze of the Roman goddess, Diana the Huntress, and the stag.
She’s 88 (my mother, not Diana), from Germany, and lived there during World War II. The wall frieze was given to her by her mother in 1953 when my mother moved to the US with my father, who was in the US Air Force.
My grandmother found the wall frieze in 1952 in a trunk that her son-in-law (not my father) bought at an auction. Assuming it only contained a bunch of old newspapers, he stored it in the basement. But my grandmother thought otherwise and trudged down to the basement to paw through the newspapers. She was rewarded for her effort with Diana and my uncle let her keep it. She passed it on to my mother, who gave it to me.
I believe that the trunk was property confiscated by the Nazis from a Jewish family. The twist is that a few years ago I found out that the mother of my German grandmother was a Jew who married a Christian. That means I am 1/8 Jewish. Ties with the Jewish part of the family were severed, which may have been what saved my immediate German family from the Holocaust. (I can’t allow myself to think about the fate of the Jewish part of my family.)
Sounds like a lot of potential material for an historical novel. Or would it be creative nonfiction? A memoir? I could incorporate my Jewish and my German ancestry and my American upbringing. And I do want to write that book. But 13 days just isn’t enough time to do the necessary research and develop the plot, outline, setting, characters…..
So I’ll stick to the story of Diana. If I can come up with 50,000 words about a trunk, a Roman goddess, a stag, and a wall frieze.
Eleanor Ingbretson
Karen Whalen
llandrigan
Heidi Wilson
Mike M
Thursday Night Writes 