Potpourri for 500

This past month, my life has been going a dozen different directions, and as a result I am a bit scatter-brained at the moment. So for your reading pleasure, I give you a blog post full of interesting yet unrelated subjects.

1. LDStorymakers 2012 is coming! Soon! Like in just over two weeks.
   
   I've been very fortunate to work behind the scenes this year on the committee, coordinating registration. I dug into skills I learned some twenty-odd years ago and set up a database for organizing this year's attendees. That was a great experience.
   
   I also have thoroughly enjoyed seeing how many of my friends will be there this year. Of course, since it's my fifth(!) conference, it's really only the new people that aren't my friends. Yet.
   
   And I reverted to that childish practice of choosing my workshops based on where my buddies were going. Yeah, we're all so mature...
   



2. And even more exciting, I'm presenting a workshop of my own this year - on both days. It's called Culture, Motivation, Flaws, and a Cat: Four things every great character needs.
   
   It's been a lot of fun to work on this presentation, and things are finally coming together.
   
   
3. I got to do some fun writing research as I went on yet another camp out with my daughter and her Venture Crew. We backpacked in and out, and this time nobody froze. In fact, it was so warm I slept on top of my sleeping bag the whole time.
   
   One of the girls did a presentation on edible vs poisonous flora and fauna. She practiced what she preached by cutting the tail off of a scorpion and eating it. Yes, it tasted like chicken.
   



4. I got to do some not-so-fun writing research when the woman renting a room from us relapsed into a fairly destructive bout of mental illness. The shop vac got many great workouts, both in wet and dry mode.
   
   We also learned the distinction between civil and criminal law, and that the police can offer little more than sympathy when it comes to civil issues. Fortunately, with the support of prayers and legal advice, we were able to resolve the situation before there were any personal injuries.

So as you can see, this has been a very hectic month. But it's been a great month, and I look forward to seeing everyone next month at LDStorymakers!

Registration Opens Dec 1

by Cheri Chesley

Are you as excited as I am for the upcoming LDStorymakers' Conference? Well, why not? ;)

There have been a number of updates to the Conference's Facebook page, but I want to share some of the highlights with you today.

Here's the tentative SCHEDULE. Not everything is set in stone yet, but it still looks incredibly exciting. And educational. Look at all those breakout sessions. Imagine the learning!

Find out about BOOT CAMP, an intensive, extra course where you can get real hands on feedback from published pros.

Sign up for a PITCH SESSION. Pitch your polished novel to an agent or editor.

Check out the new (as far as I know) RESERVED CLASSES for those writers who have the basics but never want to stop learning--and moving forward.

Click HERE for dates, times, location and all the other pertinent details.

I love the Storymakers' conferences, even though I haven't had good luck with them. The first one I ever attended I could only go the second day. Felt a little lost. The second one I attended, I was still recovering from a serious illness and didn't make it through the first day--didn't even attempt the second. Last year, I had too much going on that month and couldn't even get there.

And now, well, I've moved 1200 miles away.

But I still want to go. It's that good. Not sure how it's all going to work out, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try. Conference weekend is always packed full of great fun, great learning and extremely fun people. Authors are the best!

Hope to see you in May!

Smile and Keep Going

by Cheri Chesley

I feel kind of bad that I don't have anything to post about the LDStorymakers Conference, but I didn't attend this year. I did, however, crash the AI mix n mingle Friday night. :)

I was late, of course, but I did bring a homemade cheesecake. That should make up for it, right?

Even though I missed the conference, it was still great to meet up with some of my author friends and chat and laugh the evening away. I think I really needed that. And, I did notice the entire hotel seemed to buzz with that special energy that only happens when authors get together. :) I love that feeling.

After I got a healthy dose of writing and books, I drove over to the airport to say hi to my hubby at work. We ended up talking for over an hour. Sigh. I like doing that, but I do have to say the middle of the night isn't the best time for it.

I am looking forward to reading everyone else's take on the conference, and I still hope to learn from what they have to share.

Learning to take criticism

by Heather Justesen

When I was in ninth grade, I had an English teacher who used to go over all of my articles for the school yearbook with me. I'd hand it to her after hours (because my yearbook staff met after school--yeah, I was one of those nerds), and she'd sit me next to her and mark it up, telling me why things worked and why they didn't. I remember her saying that she wasn't sure that criticism could really be constructive.

Mrs. Philips, I have to say, I still disagree with you--and more now than I did all those years ago.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon at the first day of the LDStorymakers writer's conference. We call it boot camp--and it can be the first critique session many of the attendees have ever experienced. It's a stressful thing for everyone the first time they allow strangers to read and pick apart their writing--I know it was for me! I remember getting madder and madder as I flipped through the first professional edit I paid for (by the talented Josi Kilpack). It wasn't that she was wrong, or even that I thought was was wrong at the time, it was mostly that I knew she was right about the things she pointed out.

Was my frustration and bits of anger a normal reaction--I'd have to say yeah, they were. Of course I thought my baby was beautiful when I sent it off to her--I just wanted someone to point out the little minor details I'd missed and let me put a pretty shine on it before I resubmitted it. But the truth was, my book needed a great deal more work than I'd expected--because despite having a BA in English lit, I hadn't really been studying what make books work, and how others crafted their stories. I'd avoided writing classes because, heck, I wasn't going to be a writer, so what did I need those creative writing classes for, anyway. (I know, famous last words--I didn't need any journalism classes, either, because I wasn't going to work for the media, and then I became a newspaper copy editor. Oy vey!)

It took me a while before I made the suggested revisions and resubmitted that first manuscript to the publisher, and though they still didn't pick it up, that first experience of getting critiques was invaluable in my growth as a writer because she not only pointed out what was wrong with the specific manuscript, but also showed me where my writing was weak, and directed me to specific resources to help me improve.

Because of that direction, reapplying myself to my writing, and getting more helpful feedback from other writers (which I also hated, but agreed with), the second book I sent for professional edits received a contract.

Now I've been part of my own critique group for three years and the sting of criticism has disappeared from the feedback I get (mostly). I still get a tad nervous when I read out loud to them (though more when they have family members wandering through the next room).

To be honest, the people at my table yesterday took their critiques from everyone else like pros--even if they disagreed with what they were being told from time to time. This is a huge step in the right direction for any writer, because none of us can exist inside a vacuum. We all need editing, constructive feedback (aka criticism) and support, because this writing thing can be a difficult, harrowing experience, but if we work and grow and become better, it can be so worth it.

Someday I'm going to see these books in print--I can't wait for that day, because anyone who brings that kind of attitude to the table and willingness to learn is bound to succeed.

The Value of Doing Hard Things

During her awesome Writing a Killer Query workshop at this past LDStorymakers conference, the esteemed Elana Johnson gave some advice that goes beyond querying, beyond writing, and applies to life in general.

"This is really hard," she said on at least three occasions. "But that's okay, because you can do hard things."

Looking back on my life, I see that choosing to do hard things is what helped me grow the most.

I thought about this the other day when I was visiting someone who lived on the side of a hill. Their driveway and parking area resembled a roller coaster, and I ended up parked on a steep slope in my truck. My truck with the manual transmission.

This wasn't the first time I'd been in this situation, stopped on the side of a steep hill.

Years ago when I was learning to drive, and just about to take my driver's license test, our big old family station wagon gave up the ghost. Irreparably dead.

As a replacement, my parents bought a cute little Datsun. Cute as it was, however, this car scared me to death - because right between the front two seats sat a stick shift.

Now, I desperately wanted to get my license. I was already seventeen (which is another story altogether) and the prom was coming up, so I took a crash course in driving with a manual transmission and hurried off to the testing center.

Needless to say, I did not do well. It was bad enough that I stalled in the parking lot with the examiner next to me, followed by trying to start from a stop sign in third gear. But then, at the end of the test (which I had undoubtedly already failed) my sadistic examiner took me to The Hill.

Two-thousand feet straight into the air, The Hill shot up at an eighty-five degree angle, and there was a stop sign perched right at the top.

Okay, maybe it wasn't quite that steep, but to a stick-shift flunky it sure looked that way. And there really was a stop sign at the top. I did my best, only rolling back about fifty feet while gunning the engine and easing out the clutch.

We got back to the testing center and set up an appointment for me to retake the test.

Now, I was a pretty good driver. Every single one of the things I failed on that test came directly from my inexperience with the manual gearbox. If I had taken the test in an automatic, I would have passed with flying colors.

Which is why it was such a temptation when our neighbors offered to let me borrow their car to retake the test. Oh, it was tempting. Really, really tempting. After all, a license was a license, and it didn't matter what kind of transmission I used to get it.

And yet somehow I felt as though using a different car would be like cheating. Maybe it was stubbornness, or maybe it was vain and foolish pride, but for whatever reason I determined that I would pass my test in the little Datsun, with the stick shift.

I practiced and practiced and then went down to take the test. At the end the examiner said. "Much better." In my mind I cheered! And then he said, "Next time, do these other things, and you'll pass."

My heart sank. I'd failed yet again. Which meant I rode to my Junior Prom stuck in the back seat of someone else's car.

But that second failure gave me an even stronger incentive to master that transmission, and I practiced and I practiced and I practiced, and that meant when I finally did pass my test two weeks later it was with a nearly perfect score.

It also means that I learned - really learned - to drive a stick, and I have never been intimidated by a stop sign at the top of a hill ever again.

Writing is hard. Querying is hard. Marketing is hard. Facing rejection after rejection is hard.

But, as my friend Elana says, that's okay. Because you can do hard things.

The Best Laid Plans

I don't want to turn this into a "poor me" post. But I am going to start out with my disappointment in missing most of the Storymakers Conference this weekend.

See, I got sick the week before. Knowing I wanted to be at my best for the conference, I went to the doctor on Tuesday. He gave me the last antibiotic I'd used. What neither of us realized was I had a reaction to that antibiotic. I knew I'd broken out in a horrible rash, but I blamed it on the stress from moving and all that entails at the time.

But Tuesday my skin turned red and puffy until I looked like a puffy lobster. I got a half shot of epinephrine and a new antibiotic. The problem was, by Friday I still didn't feel any better.

My biggest issue was the sinus pressure and subsequent pain. I'm actually keeping the pain at bay by alternating two different pain meds. This is the worst it's ever been. At any rate, because of my misery, I didn't even make it all the way through Friday because I was in too much pain. And I was so mad. I was so disappointed. And thoroughly depressed.

Plus, I felt like a baby. Especially after seeing Karen Hoover hobble by on her not-quite-healed foot saying "ow" with each step.

Enough dwelling. Let's move on.

What I was able to glean from my first day of Storymakers was amazing. I had a great time. Not only was I able to see my author friends, but what I remember of the classes I attended--so glad I took notes--I know I learned quite a lot. One that stands out was Jeff Savage talking about what kind of time we spend developing our villains. Thankfully, I think I'm in good shape with my evil king. It's just a great reminder that my one character can't be a fluke. I need to focus a healthy amount of attention developing all my villains.

What makes these conferences so fantastic isn't so much what we learn, or what prizes we win (huge congrats to Christine Bryant)--it's the camaraderie we feel with one another. It was said more than once Friday, that writing is often such a solitary business it is so important to gather as a group and remember that we are not alone. That we aren't the only people to hear voices in our heads, and that it doesn't (necessarily) mean we're crazy. If you've ever visited Julie Wright's FaceBook page, under her picture she put "I write to stave off schizophrenia." Ain't that the truth?

And I'm sincerely hoping, for the next gathering, my health will not get in the way.

My Writing Story

By Nichole Giles

I got a phone message the other day. My neighbor’s sister heard I write books and wanted to ask me some questions. Though I haven’t talked to her yet, I definitely plan to call her back. It’s easy for me to remember the day when I consciously decided to start writing—for real.

I’ve always been a big reader, and had recently read several books in which a main or supporting character was a writer. (Yeah, goes back to us writing what we know.) Believe it or not, reading those books was the first time it occurred to me that people could actually write as a career. I mean, you know, there are authors, and they do it, but they’re like actors and supermodels. At the time, in my mind, I might as well go apply for a job at Nasa and ask to be an astronaut. But the idea was planted, and no matter how I avoided starting, it grew until I decided to write anyway. Not for fame and fortune, but because I needed to do it. Because it was something for me. I’d supported my husband in his career, my children in school and sports and babyhood, and this was something I wanted, and that I could do for me.

The catalyst, though, came one day when I was reading a parenting magazine and came across an advertisement for a writing class. It seemed too good to be true that I could take this college accredited course (I’d had zero college) through the mail—and they promised to help me produce at least one publishable article by the end. What I didn’t realize was that they didn’t guarantee my article would be accepted anywhere—just that it would be good. That class was the first interaction I ever had with another author, and it was absolutely liberating for me. I learned a lot.

As I communicated with my instructor, she encouraged me to find and attend some writing conferences. But I had no idea where to even look (this was before the days of Google and having information available at the click of a mouse—or at least that I knew of). Then one day, I was in the library checking out, and came across a flier for a writer’s conference by a group called the LDStorymakers—and it happened to be the very next weekend. I took the flier, and hung onto it for two or three days before I got brave and called the number to talk to a lady named Tristi Pinkston. She told me they had room and that I could pay at the door.

I had no idea what to expect when I went, but let me just tell you, I never, ever in my wildest dreams expected what I got. That weekend I learned a lot—but what’s more, I made some amazing, incredible friends. Also, I joined my very first writer’s group, where I’ve had more encouragement than I could ever had imagined. These people have taught me more than any college or class ever could, and I’ll forever be in their debt.

See, even as I was searching for that special thing for myself, I was fighting incredible amounts of guilt. I was the wife and mother—and it should be enough for any woman, right? Why should I need something for myself? But I did, and somehow, I knew that if I didn’t do this, I would lose myself entirely.

It’s been several years since I started this journey. This year, I’ll have two books published—something that I never could have dreamed was in my life path before I started it.

But the very most amazing thing is the comfort and support I’ve received since I started. Heavenly Father has shown me over and over again how important it is that I magnify my talent, and use it to better myself and those around me. I almost didn’t do it—but I am infinitely grateful that I did.

Just in case my story isn’t enough inspiration to help give you a boost, watch this video. I promise, there will be no more doubt and no more guilt—but you may shed a few tears.




See you in two weeks!