The Frasier

I’m taking a break from my normal “book-club” blog posts to talk about a wonderful fiction contest called the Frasier. You can find details here: http://www.mybooktherapy.com/index2.php/the-frasier-contest/

I entered last year for the critiques. I wanted to test the waters—is my stuff any good?

While preparing my entry, I was shocked to learn they expected me to write a synopsis of my beloved novel in less than 500 words. Dismay, surprise, and a little depression rocked my personal “book-esteem” at the idea they didn’t want to read an exhaustive treatise on the creative work of my dreams. I mean, the entire novel was written on my heart, how could I possibly leave anything out?

Needless to say, I did. The guidelines for the contest forced me to “write-tight.” This pre-requisite proved invaluable. It taught me to filter my own words and boil them down to only the essential. Accepting that not everyone in the world wants to read my words ad nauseam before I get to the point humbled me.

The word count for the opening scene (1500 words) also proved a challenge, but I found myself evaluating every word. My previous philosophy may have been something like this: if you throw enough words at any given scenario, eventually you’ll come to a decent point. After crafting my Frasier entry, I can see that fewer words pack greater potency.

All this is to say, if you write fiction, enter the Frasier! The pithy comments from the judges are worth the entry fee. And while the guidelines force you to trim words, I hope you’ll learn what I did: tight writing is golden.

I’m off to start my second novel this week.

P.S. In case you didn’t notice, this post is less than 300 words. J

Are you a Cry-er?

Do you tend to cry in movies or when you read a great book? I have to admit, I’m not much of a cry-er. Sometimes I’m really in the mood for it, I choose a tear-jerker to watch or read, and my eyes stay dry the whole way through.

Do you judge a story by whether it made you cry or not? I actually cheer when a friend reads something I've written and tells me they cried. Success! I must tell you about the book I stumbled upon earlier this month. Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah blew me away.

I can’t say the beginning overwhelmed me, but it was very good. I can’t say that half-way through the story it became my favorite book, though I enjoyed it very much. But when I reached the final one hundred pages, the culmination of the whole story packed such an enormous wallop, I was shocked by the sheer enormity of emotion I felt for her characters. I cried constantly for the last 50 pages. I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before. Luckily, I was reading it at the beach, wearing huge sunglasses.

The story is beautiful. And she built it so gradually, I didn’t even notice how enormous the implications of every detail had become. So of course, as an author, I analyzed her plot. I followed some advice from my favorite book on writing craft and picked apart the entire novel. And when I came to the last 50 pages, yup! I cried again. Sheesh!

So now I want to write something like that. Something that will take my readers on a journey they will feel themselves, instead of just watching from the sidelines. Read Firefly Lane if you want to feel a story deeply, or if you find yourself in need of a good cry.

Fair warning: adult language and themes throughout.

What was the last book you read that made you cry?

What do you want?

What do you want from a book? I'm talking about those books that you cannot put down and you will not forget when you've finished them.

Do you just want to escape to another place? Or are there certain things you expect from a novel?

When I close a great book after reading the last page, I always take my time and I usually sit there, holding the book, remembering. It’s almost like waving goodbye to friends and watching the car drive away until I cannot see it anymore.

One book stands out to me in this regard. Taking Liberties by Diana Norman really stuck with me. I actually missed the main characters after I put the book down. I want a book that leaves me wanting more, like when I eat a cookie that was delicious but too small.

Another must-have take away for me is something that grabs my mind. If I find either a surprise, or an interesting philosophical question or an idea that’s new to me, I will remember the book forever.

Lastly, it must be gripping. I must need to keep reading.

What elements do you look for in a great read?

It's a Sibling Thing

I’ve been sucked in by my current read, Kate Morton’s The Distant Hours. I am fascinated by the familial relationships she tackles. The protagonist spends most of the book uncovering the intricacies of a particular family: A father, twin daughters and their younger sister—focusing mostly on the sisters. She describes their relationship like this: “The intricate tangle of love and duty and resentment that tied them together.”

Of course, this dragged my thoughts toward my own siblings. Love, yes, plenty. Duty, yes. Don’t mess with my family. Resentment gave me pause. I don’t actually resent my siblings—I tend more toward the love and duty, I think. But it does bring a few of our off-handed comments to mind. “She got to travel all the time with Mom and Dad. He never got caught—ever! She got caught every time she tried anything (giggle-giggle).” Which leads to other commentary . . . “The baby of the family has it made! The middle kid always gets the shaft. The oldest thinks she’s all that. Spare me!”

I’m writing about two girlfriends right now. Their bond is tight. But the sibling bond is somehow more fraught with the possibility for raw emotion. Losing a friend or hurting a friend is painful. But usually there is so much more invested in that sibling relationship. The hurt cuts deeper, misunderstanding can last longer and grate harder. 

Morton writes the experience of an outsider observing the sisters. “The glances they exchanged; the complicated balance of power established over decades; the games I would never play with rules I would never fully understand."

There’s something about a brother-sister/sister-sister/brother-brother connection that cuts straight to our core. I once heard someone say that siblings are like the only fellow countrymen in existence from their home planet. Truly, every household could be construed to be a separate planet.

Remember all your observations from that first sleepover in jr high? (They never eat ice cream! The mom plays the radio all day and all night! Their dad works on an old car in the garage 'til midnight every night!) Only those citizens who have lived it can empathize and fully understand. And only those citizens provide true comfort when homesickness sets in. Because at some point, we just can’t go home again and being with people who remember that home (good or bad) fills in the gaps better than anything else can.

Read The Distant Hours. For the siblings. For the castle. For the complete escape from your own castle. It made me think of my home and the wonderful gifts I have in my siblings.

What's your favorite castle?

There’s just something about a castle. It’s the quintessential setting. Throw a castle into almost any story and you have instant history, mystery and intrigue. They are full of shadows, forgotten corners and most definitely hidden secrets. I’ve heard it said that the setting of a book can become as much a character as the people in a novel, but I think it’s almost obligatory with a castle—and I’ll also include big houses for the purpose of this discussion.

For me, it started with Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. The fairy tale castle anchored in my mind the splendor, the exclusivity and the absolute “draw” of a castle.

One of the most memorable “dwelling characters” for me, is the large estate house in Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. Also, Miss Minchin’s School for girls—how many attic rooms were there? And the Indian Gentleman’s home next door—accessible by roof, within the pages of The Little Princess.

The White Witch’s ice castle in Narnia, filled with stone statues.

What about Hogwart’s? There’s a living, breathing building for you. And who could forget Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights? Just this week, I’ve been wandering the halls within Milderhurst, found in the new novel, The Distant Hours by Kate Morton. This castle seems to almost breathe memories even as it crumbles. Truly wonderful and I haven’t finished the book yet!

What’s your favorite castle memory?

What does reading feel like?

Reading a great book is like sinking into a deep tub filled with hot water and covered with scented bubbles. The rest of the world falls away and you feel like you’re returning to your “other life.”

When I was young, I would look up from my book to see my mother, hands on hips, shouting my name. Inside, I felt like I’d been yanked from another world. I know I blinked at her, as if surprised to find myself lying on a couch in my living room instead of riding in a carriage in 19^th century New York City, or crossing the moors of England, or fighting a war in France.

Sometimes I feel a bit like Henry from The Time Traveler’s Wife. With very little warning, he would disappear and travel through time. If you have not read this book, you must. I don’t say this too often (or maybe I do?) but seriously, it knocked my socks off. I read it several years ago and a single thought can place me back inside that novel today, feeling the cold Chicago air, or the warm sun on my shoulders in the meadow behind the house in Grand Rapids.

The book is highly intellectual—read with thinking cap on—but also very relational. There’s a good bit of cussing and the poor guy ends up naked every time he travels, but the story is riveting. Unforgettable. Stunning.

It’s a new year, and with it—God willing—I’ll write another book. When I write, there is less time to read, but when I read, there is more fodder for writing. So I’m looking for the next novel to read even as I plot my own next story. Suggestions welcome, though "my stack" beckons.

Do You Re-Read?

I find it difficult to read a novel more than once. Usually, it feels like working the same crossword puzzle a second time. The first time is magical and full of discovery, but after that, you know all the secrets, all the rabbit trails. Not much new to discover in your average novel the second time around.

But there are a few . . . stories that beckon me away from new reading.

Just this week, I picked up The Thirteenth Tale for the third time. I resisted the call for several weeks—the writing must come first, I’d say. It’s a haunting story told by a woman obsessed with “story” to a woman obsessed with books. I’m only on chapter two this time around, but instead of knowing what’s coming, I find myself anxious to enter the world I remember which doesn’t come into play for another thirty pages or so.  And I’ve already found new perspective on the characters.

One fascinating item about this book is the ambiguity of time and place. It seems like a gothic/romantic novel, but certain details suggest it could be modern. The story within the story takes place in a further distant past, which also could be gothic, or modern because the setting is pastoral. The author never tells the reader “when” the story takes place. This may sound like a definite mistake, but it works for this novel because the ambiguity serves as transport between my world and the world in the story.

And I want to go back . . .

What novels have you read more than once? Why did you? Click on “comment” below and let’s chat.