Jan 24, 2006 | Uncategorized
We've all seen the quotes that tell us success in this business is about persistence:
What's the difference between a published writer and an unpublished one? The published one didn't quit.
Never, never, never, never give up. (Churchill)
Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration. (Edison)
Getting ahead in a difficult profession requires avid faith in yourself. That is why some people with mediocre talent, but with great inner drive, go much further than people with vastly superior talent. (Sophia Loren)
I could go on and on with those, and in truth I do love to refresh myself from time to time with why it's important to have strength of purpose. But, today, via Booksquare, comes an article on grit as a factor in success.
Young Tom Edison didn't start out a superstar. His early teachers called him “addled.”
For decades, laws, governments, even popular will were stacked against the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela. No way, people thought, would they ever change the way things were.
And so it was for Sister Mary Scullion, the scrappy nun from Northeast Philly who had a radical idea 30 years ago. In a nation as prosperous as ours, she thought, it was unacceptable to have even one homeless person on the street. Today, the programs she developed are a national model.
Is it all-brains-all-the-time that separates these achievers from the pack? Or is something else at work?
The difference likely is something Angela Lee Duckworth calls “grit,” which she defines as “tenaciously pursuing something over the long term.” That “something” can't be something easy. To pass the grit test, the thing being chased must be “the highest challenge.” It's all about passion.
Read the rest of the article here: Got grit? A Penn researcher who studies high achievers says it isn't I.Q., grades, or leadership skills that leads to success. It's good, old-fashioned stick-to-itiveness.
Jan 23, 2006 | Uncategorized
I'm reading some contest entries this morning, and shaking my head at some of them. Do people really not know this is a business? It's about marketing, baby. You can't suck me in with a good first sentence and then expect I'll keep reading for 40 pages while you set up the background for me. None of us deserve to be published just because we write lovely prose.
And, oh yes, pot, kettle, black here. I have been guilty of this myself. Entice the editor/agent in with a good first page or two, even a first scene or two, and then when you've got them hooked, give 'em all that backstory you're just dying to tell. They'll keep reading, right?
Wrong-O.
Here's what I've read so far: a technically perfect first chapter, with beautiful turns of phrase and gorgeous prose–but NOTHING is happening! Nothing! It's backstory, framed in one character telling the other one what's happened and why. No hint of a conflict, no idea why I should care.
Next, a flawed first chapter with some really amateur grammar mistakes (misplaced modifiers, which can happen to the best of us, pronoun confusion, fear of commas, run ons)–but this chapter had conflict! It had drama. It rocked. I was totally willing to forgive the writer the mistakes because the idea was good.
And, an unbelievably good prologue and first scene that had me excited to keep reading. The prose in this one was the best of all. The story was awesome. Then, we change POV to another character and the bottom drops out. The author knew the character in the 1st scene so well, but doesn't know the other character nearly as well. And it shows. We went from rocking and awesome to boring and plodding while I got an infodumped backstory as the character walked around. After that, I stopped for the day.
Don't do this to yourself. Don't set up that chapter, work so hard on the opening, and then think you can be a slacker once you've got the editor hooked. Ain't gonna happen. Get the party started and keep it rolling deep into the night!
Guess I better go take my own advice…..
Jan 20, 2006 | Uncategorized
My poor honey was exhausted last night. He went to the set at 9 and didn't finish until nearly 7. He had lots to share, but I'm not sure I processed it all correctly. Basically, they arrived, got into costume, got dusted (literally) and smudged up by the makeup people, got driven up to the set, and spent the rest of the day filming and refilming and refilming again. Every scene has to be filmed from several angles, so there was a lot of redoing the same things over.
But, he isn't a medic. They took one look at my 6'2″ hubby and decided he'd make a good prison guard. So, he shoved people and looked menacing. He got called back for four scenes, so maybe one will make it into the show. In one scene, he said he's coming down a tunnel, his prisoner in front of him, and behind him is Naveen Andrews (it's pronounced Na-vaughn, apparently). In other scenes, he's walking toward Naveen and they pass each other. I told him his back will probably get on tv. 🙂
They had a good time though. Naveen is a nice guy and posed with them for a group shot. Now, I have admitted to not watching the show. Mike doesn't watch either. When his coworkers were pointing out the star, Mike had no clue who it was. When he showed me this photo, however, I said, “Wait a minute, that guy looks familiar.” Sure enough, he played the part of Kip in The English Patient. I LOVED that movie! I loved the romance between him and Juliette Binoche. When he takes her to the church and pulls her around on the ropes–ohmigosh! Love that.
Mike has watched that movie with me more than once and he still didn't recognize Naveen. Sheesh. And I thought I was bad.
L to R: Mike Landry, Mike Harris (who is not standing at his full height), Naveen Andrews, Pete St. Luce, not sure who this guy is but I think he's one of the cast members, Tony Audrey (kneeling)
Jan 19, 2006 | Uncategorized |
Okay, maybe starred is the wrong word. In truth, the man has a walk-on as a medic. He is at the set right this instant, hobnobbing with television stars and learning why they are lost in the first place while I sit here with my morning coffee and do the usual. Blogging seems so, well, boring compared to the excitement going on over in the vicinity of Diamondhead.
It began like this: someone he works with has a daughter. At the daughter's school one day, a few months ago, was an announcement about a casting call for LOST. They needed Nigerian soldiers. So the guy went. He got the part. They kept him on file.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. He tells my husband, “Hey, they need some white dudes in uniform.” So Mike and two coworkers head to the casting office during lunch one day. Apparently, they look the part, so the casting agent gives them a green light.
They get a call to come in on Wednesday for a fitting. Originally, Mike was going to kick down a door. It got changed to medic. Though these guys have their own uniforms, they cannot wear them on the show (official rank and command patches). This is a gov't rule, not a television rule. In uniform, they represent the US Govt. The US Govt does not endorse products or tv shows. Not officially, anyway. 🙂
So, yesterday at lunch, Mike and his coworkers toodle off to the costume shop. They fill out forms that have their names, height, weight, shoe size, shirt size, pants size, etc. Then they are led through a maze of clothing. Mike said it was colorful, but messy. Washers and dryers along a corridor, racks and racks of clothes, and even the obligatory little lady with a tape measure around her neck.
My very WASP husband gets a uniform with the name Mendoza on it. His other coworker, equally as non-hispanic, gets a hispanic name too. The third coworker, the guy they are going to carry, actually got a uniform with his real name on it. (Our name is Harris; you'd think that would be common enough. But no. His coworker's name is Landry–and they had a uniform in his size with his name. Too funny.)
They tried on the togs, everything was fine. Except Mike had to take his own combat boots today. Apparently, the ones in his size are being used already. And did I mention they got paid to try on clothes? The going rate is $124. How come no one ever pays me to try on clothes, huh?
I think the whole thing took less than an hour. They received a map to the set, were told to call between 8 and 9 last night to make sure they're on for today, and that's it (they were also told not to shave–they need to look scruffy). He called last night and was told to be there at 9AM. I've been having lots of fun teasing him about being a star. He told me not to talk to him, his people would get back to me. Ha!
There's no guarantee that the scene he's in will make it into the show, but if it does, he'll be told which night it will air. (Is this the point where I confess I've never seen the show?)
Check in tomorrow for a behind-the-scenes report!
Jan 18, 2006 | Uncategorized |
Tired of James Frey yet? Me too. But this from Nan Talese cannot go unnoticed.
“When the manuscript of A Million Little Pieces was received by us at Doubleday, it was received as nonfiction, as a memoir,” said Ms. Talese by phone. “Throughout the whole process of publication, it had always been a memoir, and for the first year and a half it was on sale, it was always a memoir with no disputation. It was never once discussed as fiction by me or anyone in my office.”
[…]
If Mr. Frey came to Ms. Talese today with the same manuscript, she said she’d publish it the same way, most likely with a disclaimer in the front. (In any case, she said that the book would never have worked as a novel, in part because the author himself is the only real character in it.) She added that if Mr. Frey had confessed prior to publication to the fabrications revealed by the Smoking Gun last week, she would have excised them from the book. A transgression had been committed, Ms. Talese acknowledged, but the person responsible was Mr. Frey. “I don’t think it is ever a good idea to purposely distort the truth,” she said.
If you want to read the whole article, it's here. I'm gonna bet, however, that she wouldn't have bought the book at all if she'd known significant events were made up.
Jan 18, 2006 | Uncategorized
This morning, a friend sent me a link for a website called theNextBigWriter. For $39.95 a year, or $4.95 a month, you can join this community of other writers and get your work reviewed. Whoever wins the novel competition gets $5000. There are poetry and short story competitions too. With those, I believe you get a contract. The contract just happens to be, so far as I can tell, with theNextBigWriter.com. They'll publish your story on their website, there is a contract, and you do get paid .03 per word. They even have StarReviewers, and I admit that seeing Pulitzer-nominated beside the name of one of those people is a nice thing. But not everyone gets star-reviewed. You only get that if your fellow writers/reviewers choose your work as the best in your category. Not sure if you automatically get the review, or if the website owners then pick who gets reviewed.
I am NOT saying this is a scam. Please don't pepper me with emails suggesting I am. What I AM saying is that I don't think writers need to pay to be a member of a community. There are plenty of free writing communities online. There are contests that get your work in front of acquiring editors and agents (and there's also the old fashioned way of submitting and waiting for rejection/acceptance, though you aren't likely to get comments on what was wrong if you get rejected). Just be aware, before you join something like this, what your options are. If you think you can get value from this site, by all means, go for it. Forty bucks a year isn't a lot, I suppose, and maybe you'll be the one to win the $5000. For me, though, I'll keep writing and submitting the old way. It's worked for all the writers I know, so why mess with the formula?
Oh, and if you'd like to see a sample of the writing that's on this board (so you know where your fellow critique partners are in the process), you'll have to join first. [Correction: you may join as a reviewer, which is free; you can then read stories and see if you'd like to join as a writer (writers pay)] That alone raises my personal big red flag. That's just me though. You may not mind. Let me know how it works out.
