Tag: Writing

A Month’s Time

Posted on

My last entry was one month ago. I need to update more regularly because a month seems daunting when so much has happened. So I’ll be (relatively) brief.

In between a holiday in the desert (a landscape I love more and more) and wonderful visits from friends, I finished Book #2. Woo hoo! After some feedback I will soon begin a session of revision.

I like that part: revision–smoothing out the rough bits. The sculpture is there, it’s on the table. I know what it wants to be, but it need a little buffing, some chiseling, and polishing. Hard work, but I can see an end.

(And I am so excited to share it with you!)

During this last month I also took a class on comic writing with writer Michael Moreci at the Newberry Library (this glorious library deserves its own post, but for now I say, “Go there! Where else can you see collections that “span the history and culture of western Europe from the Middle Ages to the mid-twentieth century and the Americas from the time of first contact between Europeans and Native Americans” for free? Truly a Chicago treasure. Go!)

I am inspired by folks like Neil Gaiman and Joe Hill and a handful of others who tell their stories the way their stories need to be told, whether that’s as a novel, a comic book, a poem, a film, a play, and so on. I believe there is a valuable lesson is recognizing that stories come in all shapes and sizes.

The class was wonderful for someone like me, unschooled in the craft of comic/graphic novel writing but eager to learn. Plus once a week I got to read books, do homework, and go to class  (I haven’t done that as a student in nearly 2 decades).

Clearly the others in the class had read much more than I; my experience is limited to comics of my youth and college forays into Neil Gaiman, Alan Moore, Art Spiegelman, and a few others. I felt out of my league with these students who lived and breathed comics for the last few decades, throwing around issues and arcs in our discussions. But they were kind and allowed me to ask many (probably obvious to them) questions.

It was wonderful to break it all apart: read classics and new incarnations, learn about the process of crafting a series, a graphic novel, a re-imagined character. Joe Hill’s Locke & Key was terrific and Moore’s Swamp Thing blew me away, Wil Eisner’s instruction books are a great resource,  and Moreci is a patient, informed, and generous instructor.

Then I had to write a comic script.

My brain broke a bit, in a good way, because when it came back together, I learned things.

Writing is a joy for me, even when challenging, but this was new and didn’t come naturally for me. There were so many new things to think about: Panels! Perspective! Words in captions that cannot go on and on for pages! Ah brevity, we meet again, and I have more to learn. Descriptions that will only be read by an artist! Panels! Pages!

In the beginning I was paralyzed. How many panels? How do I choose? Which perspective? Closer or farther? How do I say something in the most concise way possible?

*Here I thank Twitter for recent 140 constraints that have helped to teach me about trimming down my natural tendency to be verbose. 😉 *

It was writing, but a bit like learning a sestina or villanelle for the first time: it was work.

But I LOVED it! I loved having to stretch outside my comfort zone and take risks. I know I made mistakes, but I look forward to learning from them. We discuss the pieces next week. I can’t wait to read the other students’ scripts. It’s fun to have something so complex to learn and explore.

I tried to explain why I found it challenging to a non-writer friend. When I write, it’s almost like uncovering a sculpture from the marble (a la Michelangelo):

Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.
-Michelangelo

But with comic writing, it’s like trying to create a human body, with all those interconnected systems. The script is like the skeleton, and even though I am not going to make the muscles, skin, etc., I need to have an idea of what they are going to look like and give instructions for their construction. There’s so much to consider. It’s not just the form, it’s all that stuff underneath. Comic writing is about guts.

Now, of course I know that good writing is also layered and complex. I love allusion more than most. I also know that not all comics are that complicated. However, the metaphor helped when I tried to explain the way the process felt to me. The closest thing I could compare it to is the surrealists’ Exquisite Corpse exercise (and we’re back to the body metaphor.)

Good things on the horizon: a few more trips, some fun parties, and then glorious Autumn with her cooler temperature and the natural inclination to turn inward as the Earth prepares to slumber. Nice to remember as the temperatures soar: it is only temporary.

Soon the wheel will turn again.

I hope to write more and often again before then.

Celebrating.

 

A Strange Kind of Love

Posted on

On Valentine’s Day, my oldest daughter went ice skating with her second grade class (where one child bloodied his face, another broke a leg, and her teacher broke her wrist). Luckily my husband took off the day to go with her (and to tend to some things around the house that needed his attention). Each of the kids had classroom parties and returned home to spill out their bags of sweets and cards on the kitchen table to examine before picking out one treat to have before dinner.

The booty they brought home rivaled Halloween. So many children pass out goody bags of candy, pencils, erasers, stickers for Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Christmas, birthdays. I can’t help but think that the holidays lose some of their magic when they morph into differently colored versions of one another.

At this age, the kids still give everyone in their class a card or piece of candy. At this age, they may or may not pick out a special card for a friend or teacher. At this age, they haven’t quite gotten into the romantic part of the holiday and the potential heartache that come with it. At this age, they still like Valentine’s Day.

I know this will change.

Sooner than I like to admit, there will be wide-eyed infatuation and puppy love, as well as heartache and drama and tears. I remember it so well: the years I did not receive a card from the boy I liked or from the girl I thought was my friend, as well as the years when I walked hand-in-hand with someone for a few secret steps, or arm-in-arm with a “best friend.” The moments were fleeting, but they charged Valentine’s Day with hope and the beautiful fantasy of what it mean to be wanted, chosen, special.

I think that’s the hardest part—wanting to be special. Kids have this desire even at a young age, but they still look to their parents, teachers, or other elders to recognize them in some way. It’s when the need for approval turns to the fickle whims of their peers that even more heartache is possible—no—inevitable.

It was during the loneliest days of  Junior High, that I began to write. What had begun as classroom exercises with a wonderful seventh grade teacher who insisted on in-class essays, evolved into my earliest journal writing and poetry. The essays earned praise, while the personal writing was mostly rambling pre-teen angst that I kept to myself. The important lesson for me was that in the absence of a real-life audience or peer group, I had a place to express myself…on the page.

In her new book, The Window’s Story: A Memoir, Joyce Carol Oats writes:

There are those—a blessed lot—who can experience life without the slightest glimmer of a need to add anything to it—any sort of “creative”effort; and there are those—an accursed lot?—for whom the activities of their own brains and imaginations are paramount. The world for these individuals may be infinitely rich, rewarding and seductive—but it is not paramount. The world may be interpreted as a gift, earned only if one has created something over and above the world. (You can read an excerpt here, on Scribd.com.)

She eloquently put into words one of my fears and the conflict I experience daily as I try to balance writing and life. Does writing keep me from living? Does living keep me from writing? Yes and yes, and so I teeter from side-to-side trying to celebrate and experience both. Some days are more successful than others.

My seven-year-old received a Star Wars valentine from the boy she likes. She has recycled all her valentines but that one.

And so it begins.

When I was your age, television was called books.

Posted on

I am determined to get this blog entry written before the end of 2010, and so here goes.

Philadelphia was a wonderful whirlwind. The reading at Moonstone Arts Center (aka Robin’s Books) was a small but enthusiastic audience. It was also broadcast live, so my kids got a chance to see their mama on the computer, which was a thrill for them back at home in Chicago.

I am grateful to Kyle Cassidy and Trillian Stars for their support, hospitality, and efforts to spread the word about the reading.

Reading at Robin's. Photo by Kyle Cassidy.

A big thank you to the folks who came. I’m so happy to have met you, and I hope to see you again in Philly. My only regret is that I didn’t get a chance to have my cards read by the lovely Amy. Next time for sure!

I nearly didn’t make it home due to blustery weather in Chicago that caused my flight to be canceled. As luck (or quite possibly by invoking the magical flight mojo of the infamous Lorraine) would have it, I was the last stand by called to board the final flight to Chicago. Came home to sick kids and snowy weather.  Ah the glamorous life. 😉

Then school parties, holiday parties, family gatherings. All lovely and filled with people I love. We decorated Casa del Lobos, baked cookies, wrapped presents, unwrapped presents, sang, danced, watched holiday specials and read holiday books.

Now a week of winter break remains. We’re planning a movie marathon with the kids for New Year’s Eve that includes some of our favorite 1980s fantasy films: Dark Crystal, Labyrinth, NeverEnding Story, Princess Bride, Ladyhawke, Muppet Movie. We’ll see what else is added to the list.

Suggestions?