More Ways to Use Magazine Cut-outs in Your Writing

Magazines are full of bizarre statements and attention-grabbing headlines. Taken out of context, they make incredible writing prompts to go with the magazine pictures I talked about last week.

Susan Wooldridge was one of the first writers to get me started on making "word pools" when I read and loved her book Poemcrazy. Susan suggested writing down words on the backs of paper tickets, the kind you can buy at any stationery store. I tried that for awhile, but then found I preferred cutting words out of magazines because I enjoyed the colors, various typefaces, and just the overall look of the re-arranged words.

I have two methods for making my word pools: the first is to simply scour magazines for strange or mystifying statements; the headings in bold or italics work the best. Then I just cut them out. Pretty simple! Advertisements in particular are a real goldmine: “Monkey optional.” “The Passion of Performance.” “Spanish Lessons.” The second method I use is a lot more finicky, but can be well worth the trouble. First, I clip out entire columns from the publications. These are always just a couple of inches wide and I often cut them in half to work with a piece no more than four or five inches long. Using an X-acto knife, I cut away excess words that don’t suit my purpose, and then work my way down the column until I have something that resembles haiku or free verse. I like to see how far down the column I can go without cutting off the paper too soon (or cutting myself…those blades are sharp!). The longer the "story" or train of thought I can get out of a column, the more fun it becomes. Whichever method I use, listed below are some of my favorite ways to play with random words.

1. Titles for poems, screenplays, short stories, and novels. I’ve found some of my best titles from random cut-outs. The title of my short screenplay, “Julian’s Dinner of Small Flaws” came from cutting my way inch by inch through a restaurant review.

2. Timed writing prompt. Timed writing works best when you don’t think, just write. Having a pool of prompts ready to go makes a huge difference between starting and procrastinating. I always carry a zip bag of words with me wherever I go.

3. Inspiration for non-writing related projects. For several years I took a one-on-one class with a ceramics instructor. At one point my teacher decided I needed to work with porcelain. Faced with twenty pounds of the whitest, most featureless clay I had ever seen, I used my word prompts to design and decorate the finished pieces. The results were surprising: “The Rattlesnake Ritual,” “Glance,” and "Earth Circle" are pieces I could never part with.

4. The smaller cut-outs can form an entire haiku or short poem on their own. For instance, this is a piece I put together with a visual collage of Buddhist and Asian inspired images: How do you discover/other worlds/secluded doorways/the secret/glimpses of the past?

5. Fragments such as those above can form a much lengthier work, with each section comprising a new verse. Here is the beginning of a piece made entirely from cut-outs that went for two pages in a large-sized sketchbook: I remember the robust tanginess of/chilling/buttermilk/cooking barefoot/when I was young/in search of/miraculous/baskets, bowls, and/a paper heart.
6. When I paste the words on the pages, they look like a somewhat less sinister equivalent of those “anonymous letters” in an Agatha Christie novel. Sometimes just the combination of colors and fonts is enough to make the creative wheels turn. When combined with pictures, they can make a startling collage, and a well-placed phrase or series of words can be just the thing to make the entire piece pop.

7. Create a word prompt journal. I like to buy a blank journal and paste a word or phrase on each page before I start to use it. This also makes a great gift for my writer friends, too.

8. Party time. At your next writer’s group, ask everyone to bring their own selection of cut-out words. Pool them together in a basket or jar and then agree to write for an hour or two. Every ten minutes, draw a new prompt from the jar.

9. Design your novel: plan ahead how many chapters your next book will have. Then use a word or phrase with a picture to be a prompt for that entire chapter.

10. Choose a theme. I've always believed creativity thrives on restriction and limits. By choosing to work with only one kind of magazine, e.g., fashion, politics, or gardening, you can start to harmonize the types of cut-outs you save. For instance, right now I am working on a novella-length found poem based entirely on what I've harvested from food magazines. It’s fun to specialize.

Tip of the day: Organize your word clippings into categories: single words; phrases; large headlines; “the small print.” I use self-sealing plastic envelopes to store my collections. Once you have a good variety, start playing. Try pasting your words on large sheets of art paper or tiny little scraps of cardstock. Add some pictures and don't be surprised when your friends start asking, "Do you want to sell that?"

Thirteen Ways to Write With Magazine Cut-Outs

Magazine cut-outs and collage have been the foundation for many of my writing projects. Not only is it fun to read the magazines while looking for photos (hey, it’s research!) but I find the pictures add richness and detail I would have trouble coming up with on my own. After all, I can’t always travel to Tokyo on a minute’s notice to set a scene in a backstreet noodle shop, but a great National Geographic shot can provide an amazing amount of information in just one frame.

My primary source for photos is the library where there is always a stack of magazines for exchange and recycling. I like to go for big and glossy: Martha Stewart, Food and Wine, Opera News. I also love trade-oriented magazines that cater to the textile industry or jewelry making. Friends know I love to “write with cut-outs” so they are always happy to share with me old issues of Vogue, Elle, and Marie Claire.

I cull through my magazines on a regular basis, always searching for the unusual and most startling photos. Once I have the latest bunch, I keep them organized in file folders: People, Places, Animals, Things, Background Colors. The system is a bit idiosyncratic, but it helps me find exactly what I want at any time. After I have my latest collection, the really fun part is to use the pictures as a jumping-off point for my writing. Here are some of my favorite things to do:

1. Book Covers. Whenever I start a new WIP, I like to make a collaged “book cover” I can slip into the plastic front of the binder I’m using. I choose images that illustrate my plot and theme.

2. Character ID. Magazine photos help me to see my characters more fully. Rather than just giving them “brown hair and brown eyes,” photos of the right models can help me see freckles, eyebrows, and smiles with more individuality.

3. Characters’ Wardrobes. I love to dress my characters; it’s almost like playing paper dolls. Keeping a full “closet” of dresses, suits, and evening gowns keeps my writing consistent. I know what everybody’s wearing and when, and I also get a better idea of who they are by their taste in clothing.

4. Where They Live. Decorating my characters’ homes and work places is almost as pleasurable as buying my own new furniture. I typically choose for each character a photo of their home’s exterior followed by a living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. Then I try to find one space unique to that particular character, for instance an attic or a secret part of a garden they love to visit.

5. Scene Settings. These are the spaces where my characters interact and are the basis for where the action takes place. For my current WIP, a contemporary romantic suspense, I have pictures of France, dockyards, cloisters, and art galleries.

6. Sequel Settings. After a strong action scene, I need a place for my characters to unwind and plan their next line of attack. I try to have a number of “safe, quiet” photos that describe a good place for them to “think aloud” while keeping reader interest high. It’s too easy to forget about where characters actually are while they’re internalizing. Photos help me remember the wind is blowing, or steam is rising off their coffee.

7. Story Symbols. I love collecting photos of everything from rhinestone Chihuahua collars to Bavarian tea-sets. These are the things that define my characters and offer story “symbols.” For instance, a tea-set can be a recurring motif, something a character inherits, say, and is afraid of breaking because it will mean losing the last contact with “home.” Conversely that same set can be what my hero hates because it’s what a mean aunt always used during horrible holiday get-togethers. Breaking it symbolizes breaking with the past.

8. Dreams. The stranger the photo, the more valuable it is as something a character can dream about. In my next book due out in 2010, I have my heroine—a newlywed—dream about a row of brides. This scene would never have occurred but for finding a bizarre photo of a dozen brides in a Vogue magazine. That dream eventually came to stand for an important revelation that foreshadows the rest of the story.

9. Memories. Photos of children in school, family reunions, birthday parties can all be used for important memories that motivate my characters’ actions and emotions.

10. Past Generations. Whenever I can, I grab old-timey photos of the past. These are great for describing a character’s family origins and history.

11. Favorite Colors and Feelings. Sometimes it’s helpful to create a collage just using all the colors and objects that describe to me what my story is about. Even if I never use half of the items in the actual writing, just seeing them in front of me is very useful. For instance, a picture of a kimono can remind me of some important detail in my heroine’s psyche that I want to convey, such as her modesty or love of decorum.

12. Outlining the Story Arc. In my WIP binder, along with scene notes and character bios and all my other important photos, I like to arrange a story arc solely through pictures, sometimes one per chapter. This is the picture that sums up what that chapter is about. Having it there just helps me feel the chapter with all my senses.

13. What If? More than anything, unusual and unexpected photos get me thinking. They make great story prompts for keeping me enthused about the WIP or for any other kind of writing project. One favorite thing I like to do is simply paste a variety of images throughout a new journal before I’ve used it. That way, any time I turn the page to start writing I will always have “something to write about” and no excuses about “lack of inspiration today.”

Tip of the day: start cutting up those old magazines! If your library doesn’t have a “freebie” box, ask if you can help get one going.

Writing the Picture Book, An Interview With Author Margo Candelario

For several years I’ve taught workshops based on writing for children and teenagers. As part of the course I usually try to include at least one session on the difficult topic of explaining death and grief to young children. Looking to the Clouds for Daddy by Margo Candelario is one of the best books on the loss of a parent I’ve come across in a long time. Its treatment of the subject is heartfelt and deeply personal without being sentimental or “preachy.” The text is both poetic and conversational; the artwork by Jerry Craft is first-rate and solid. Like all top picture book artists, Craft has managed to create illustrations that go beyond simply filling out the text. The innovative artwork flows across the pages and creates what could almost be described as “mini-chapters.” Best of all, the compelling mixture of words and pictures drew me in as a reader. I could easily imagine a small child wanting to sit with this book, reading and re-reading it over and over again. The girls in the story are so appealing and the memories they hold in common are so endearing that readers will want to hold on to this story for a very long time.

1. Margo, please tell us the story behind you writing this book.I wrote Looking to the Clouds for Daddy a little over ten years ago in an attempt to document the conversations I overheard my children having about their father who had recently passed away. The dialogue and physical expressions were so powerful that it was necessary to transfer the feelings to paper for their well being and for others suffering from the loss of a parent by means of death, divorce or separation.

2. What was your writing process like getting the story down on paper?
There was no “technical process” of writing and re-writing for this project. I jotted a few comments and quotes down on post-its, put myself in the moment of the conversation, recounted the day’s activities, visualized the climate—literal and temperament—and then just let the story flow. It wasn’t very complicated because the characters are real, the situation was real, the questions were real and in-the-moment; they demanded truthful answers so I didn’t need “fill” dialogue.

3. Do you have any stories to share about taking the book out into the community now that it is published?The girls and I receive different reactions. Young people are fascinated and intrigued with meeting the characters in the book. The illustrations are so vivid and lifelike along with the use of personal photographs which enables the reader to identify with the family and its crisis. Children appreciate Real Life and identify with truth, so meeting the girls at book signings drives the purpose home. The reaction I get from the adults is teary silence and a head nod, with utterances of unfinished business, and the cold reality that there is never any closure with unexpected death. The book crosses over from children to adults because of its universal language so it allows for kinship.

4. You write poetry. How has that helped you to write a picture book?I’m sure there is a link, I’m just not sure how direct it is. My poetry is on another plane. I write poetry for the feelings I no longer verbalize as a single parent and widow.

5. Are you working on anything new right now?I am working on another story about the girls; people are looking forward to their next trial and triumph.

6. Do you have any writing advice for new picture book writers?Yes, keep the writing simple, truthful, energetic and write with purpose. Remember that children are people in small bodies who often have more sense than tainted adults.

Tip of the day: Read Looking to the Clouds for Daddy, Illustrations by Jerry Craft; Karen Hunter Media. ISBN 978-0-9820221-7-7. Be sure to check out Margo's website at http://www.margocandelario.com/. Perhaps you have a personal story to share with small children, too. The picture book format could be just right.

Writing the Picture Book

Writing a picture book is not easy. Which is probably why I’ve always wanted to write one, kind of like wanting to climb Kilimanjaro or run a marathon—could I really do it?

For one thing, I’m wordy and I know it. Confining myself to the equivalent of writing child-friendly haiku to tell an entire story isn't my style. For another, I just don’t think I have the kind of whimsy that appeals to very young children. Not that I haven’t tried. My first attempt was a book based on an adorable litter of kittens. I called it This Little Cat and submitted it to about a dozen houses. To my astonishment, the book was taken seriously (I must have done something right!) and received personal rejections from all the head acquisitions editors I submitted to. But the letters were still rejections. Eventually This Little Cat went on to be rewritten and reworked as “The Cat Circus” a poem that was published in The Divine Feline, an anthology of cat stories, poetry, and artwork.

That project is quite a few years behind me now, but I’m thinking (uh-oh) of trying another one. I know a new manuscript is going to take a long time: getting those word choices “word perfect” is a challenge indeed. To help me get into picture book mode, every few months I like nothing better than going to the library to spend an afternoon reading my way through the children’s section (although they’ve just got to do something about those low shelves and pint-sized chairs…).

Several weeks ago while I was there I gathered up some of the books scattered on the tables. Right away two things struck me: most had been favorites of my own as a small child, and all were about animals; talking animals nonetheless. Among those I particularly enjoyed were Millions of Cats by Wanda Ga’g; The Story of Babar, The Little Elephant by Jean de Brunhoff, BunBun at Bedtime by Sharon Pierce McCullough, and Astro Bunnies by Christine Loomis. Like all good picture books, the stories were not only illustrated with care and imagination, but they held my interest from beginning to end as complete “plot lines” centered on charming and believable characters.

After several years of doing this kind of research, I’ve come to some conclusions about why so many picture book manuscripts are rejected:

1. Too many characters; side stories; subplots. Published picture books have page lengths that rarely, if ever, vary. Like all books, they’re printed in multiples of 4. Baby or board books can be as short as 12 “pages,” but the general rule for a picture book is 28 or 32 pages depending on end papers, etc. The longer, more text-driven “story book” can have 48 pages. Those pages have to be coherent and focused.

2. Too many words. The PB word count is short. 1500 words is really pushing it and heading for rejection. I suggest scaling back—way back. 250 to 500 words are about right. With picture book text, less is always more.

3. Don’t illustrate your own work even if you’re a professional artist. Simply send in your text typed in the exact same manuscript form as a 350-page novel. If you are a professional artist seeking to illustrate children’s books, submit your artwork to the publisher’s art director according to their guidelines.

4. At the same time, there is absolutely nothing wrong in making a “dummy” mock-up for your own purposes. In fact, you should! One quick way is to simply fold 8 pieces of paper in half, giving you a little booklet of 32 pages. Play, draw, write and see how your story and line breaks work against the pages. You can also get a good idea of where “double page spreads” will give an illustrator something to really illustrate.

5. Your words should always inspire your illustrator. With that in mind, you don’t need a whole lot of description, sometimes none at all. The pictures will take care of that for you. But your words you do choose must be picture-generators.

6. Should you rhyme? As a general rule, I know editors like to say “never,” but then you will see rhyming text everywhere picture books are sold or read. Like talking animals, it really “depends on what the animals are saying,” as one well-known editor once put it. I think this “rule” about discouraging rhyming text started because of the amount of doggerel coming over the transom. To create good, clever rhyme is an art, and a difficult one at that.

7. Stories about inanimate objects. Just—don’t.

8. Talking animals (again). Some editors say “no,” and I say “phooey!” with one exception: religious or praying animals. You have no idea how many manuscripts I have been given to critique or edit that have included religious animals. I find them weird and I think most editors do, too.

9. Moralizing. Would you like your next exciting romantic suspense to end with: “Okay folks, listen up: lying, cheating, stealing, and killing are bad things and will make your nose grow crooked…” You wouldn’t do it to an adult reader, so please don’t do it to a kid!

Tip of the day: Okay, go write the next great picture book and make me proud! Spend some time at the library re-reading your favorites and checking out new titles. If nothing else, you’ll have a wonderful “artist’s date” reliving some of the best moments of your childhood.

Next post: a special interview with picture book author Margo Candelario on her new book, Looking to the Clouds for Daddy.

All About Better Than Perfect (Sort of)

Good news: Better Than Perfect has now been officially released and is for sale on Amazon.com, my website, Barnes and Noble, and anywhere else that sells books.

From the back cover: Can anyone be ‘better than perfect’? That’s the question lonely teenager Elizabeth Haddon struggles to answer when she is sent from England to live with relatives in Auckland, New Zealand. Arriving in the dead of winter, Elizabeth soon falls under the spell of her beautiful, but enigmatic cousin Ravenna who insists the most important thing in life is to ‘fit in.’ Elizabeth, who wants only to be accepted by her new family and their affluent social circle does her best to comply until she starts to see the cracks; cracks that turn into virtual canyons when tragedy strikes.

Yep, it’s a New Zealand story all right: dark, satiric, and ultimately (I hope) redemptive.

For a long time I’ve battled with “what New Zealand means to me.” For those who don’t know my background, I emigrated there from California a few weeks after my seventeenth birthday when my father, a New Zealander, decided he wanted to return home. For years I suppose he had imagined happy family reunions with me and my little brother being best friends with our extended family. And for awhile I suppose we were. Then real life took over, kind of like when they say that wherever you go you take yourself with you. We might have been thousands of miles from home, but we were still Americans. My mother was angry and depressed by the move, my father did his best to put a good face on things, and my little brother grew up wild. I stayed for as long as I could, eight years, and to this day don’t know if they were the worst or best years of my life. During that time, I was a displaced Persephone; my journey truly one of descent. For a year before I went to the university I studied nursing, until I could no longer bear working with the child abuse victims passing through the hospital wards and I became ill myself. Things I witnessed in New Zealand continue to haunt me: acts of violence borne of frustration from people trapped by weather and circumstance “with nowhere to go.”

My escape during those years was to immerse myself in New Zealand art and literature which I still think is some of the best in the world; precisely, I believe, because of the restrictions living on a tiny island at the bottom of the world can bring. It all started when I was in my one and only year of NZ high school and the late poet James K. Baxter visited the school a few months before he died. There isn’t room here to adequately describe the impact that visit had on me, but Baxter remains one of my most important literary influences to this day. Barefoot, red-eyed, straggle-haired, and draped in an ancient gray thrift-store suit, Baxter was as different from anyone I had known back in the San Fernando Valley could be. He may have been sick and dying at the time, but he could still recite his poetry with the power and madness of some Biblical prophet whirled in from a demonic wilderness. John the Baptist without the favor of God comes to mind. Baxter’s words and images burnt themselves into my memory; it is impossible to forget him and his rendition of “Thoughts of a Remuera Housewife.” I had only been in the country a few months, but already I knew what he was writing about: a suburban world so precisely “New Zealand” and yet so universal in its theme of “going through the motions” that it seemed to contain the whole of human experience in its brief stream-of-consciousness stanzas. I never forgot it and eventually it became the inspiration for me to write Better Than Perfect. I start the book with a quote from the poem: "….No, it’s not/ a world at all, but Pluto’s/ iron-black star; the quiet planet furthest from the sun." A few brief lines that sum up everything living in New Zealand was like for me.

Several meetings ago my writer’s group experimented with a technique adapted from Judy Reeves's A Writer’s Book of Days: write a full page as one sentence. We used the suggested prompt of “It’s all you could expect.” This is the unedited, raw version of what I wrote:

It’s all you could expect, my father said when he carried the sheep carcass up the hill toward my parents’ house, the lights shining like a beacon for the shell-shocked stragglers who still managed to make their ragged way up from the beach below where glass littered the tide pools and my brother caught minnows the size of his small hands when no one was looking and my mother sat in her room all day and night, shutting her ears to the sheep screaming and my father preparing to play Abraham sacrificing his first-born because God had commanded him and it was his right, his role, his dignity that was on the line and not some sob-story about “Daddy please just listen, just give me this one last chance to find the path I’m supposed to take,” and when the tide came in and crashed against the tide pools full of tiny snails and one-legged octopus, when my brother ran outside to hear the commotion and when even my mother unplugged her ears to hear the waves, the crashing, the thunder, the shouts of the drunken tourists demanding their rights on their beach on their land, then it all seemed like a Greek tragedy caught in the wrong place and the wrong century and all I could think of was opening the sheep pens and calling out the animals one by one before there were any more deaths, any more blood sprinkling this holy night of my father’s anger and his wish to follow a jealous God’s commandments.

Is it true? Yes and no. As another writer, Eunice Scarfe, so wisely says, “Any story told twice is a fiction.” This and Better Than Perfect are my stories told twice.

Thought of the day: What are your stories "told twice"?

Remembering Hugh Cook

Here’s what I’m thinking: If I hadn’t jumped up on a hot spring day in Auckland, New Zealand in the middle of an interminable political studies tutorial and declared myself an anarchist because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I would never have met the late New Zealand author, Hugh Cook, and I would never have become a writer. Unraveling this tangle of clues I also know I would not be writing this blog, or publishing my new book, or even maintaining a Facebook page if it were not for Hugh.

Why I signed up for that dreadful class on Scandinavian politics is still a mystery to me. I was in my third year at Auckland University, majoring in Spanish (taught by Welsh professors who insisted we speak with a dithinct Barthelona acthent) and for some crazy reason thought political studies would make a nice fit with Marquez and Lorca. I think I had the misguided notion the professors would be showing Ingmar Bergman films all day, or serving smorgasbord for lunch—whatever, the class was a horrible mistake. Instead of “Wild Strawberries” we studied middle-class voting statistics. The class was sheer torture and for no good reason except that I was bored, I remember standing up, the lone American in a sea of Kiwis (long story for another post), and shouting to some fellow idiot, “I don’t care what you think because I’m an anarchist.” After the few seconds of stunned silence and airless horror, the class became quite animated. Within minutes I’d been invited to several sit-ins, a street march to protest student fees, and numerous action groups. Except for one very interesting woman sitting next to me that day and who had just returned from Viet Nam where she had been working in an orphanage, I thought they were all nuts. I was also highly embarrassed. Despite my red face, the interesting woman promptly invited me home for lunch to discuss anarchy in what turned out to be a very civil setting. We soon became good friends, and from there I met an entirely new set of creative and fascinating people, including a fun-loving girl who introduced me to her best friend who before any of us knew it had fallen in love with the up and coming young New Zealand writer, Hugh Cook. And that was a shock because Hugh at the time was known as an eccentric, irascible, unromantic curmudgeon who delighted in writing cynical poetry for Craccum, the university newspaper. He scared me to death and I hoped I’d never have to meet him.

Fast forward a couple of years to London where I was working as an executive secretary in Europe’s largest advertising agency (yes, it was a lot like Mad Men. A lot.). One day as I was walking home from work, taking my usual route via up Regent’s Street and about to stop in at the chemist’s for soap and toothpaste, suddenly right in front of me was Isla in brilliant Madras plaid on a glorious summer evening all blue and pink and gold like her dress. I remember the sun shining off Isla’s freshly hennaed hair and that she was wearing hot pink lipstick and she was just so sunny, nothing like her old New Zealand gray-cardigan-black-skirt self. She was dazzling. The surprise of meeting was overwhelming to both of us. I think we started screaming and jumping around and in a rush of words and unrelated phrases while she told me that she had married Hugh and that his first book, Plague Summer, had just been published. It was for sale in the New Zealand bookstore in the Strand and I had to see it, and, and, and. Our thoughts were all jumbled in the excitement of finding each other unexpectedly in London. Our adult lives were finally just starting out and there were so many stories to tell. But more than anything I will never forget the thrill I felt when I learned that someone I knew had actually written and published a book, a real book, and it was for sale in a bookstore.

Within hours that night my husband and I were having dinner and a nonstop conversation with Hugh and Isla that lasted for hours. For the next several months we stayed together as a tight group: tea at the Ritz; art exhibitions at the Royal Academy; drinking tequila on my birthday; Isla and I rowing in Hyde Park. And Hugh was so much fun. Kind, sweet, witty; he was nothing like his Craccum persona. When he learned that I harbored a desire to write, he invited me to afternoon tea because he wanted to help me.

Try as I might, I can’t remember if we went to Fortnum & Mason’s or some funny little place off Charing Cross Road. It was after all, a long time ago. But wherever it was we went, for me it was one of the best and most important afternoons of my life. Although we talked about many aspects of writing, the one thing that has always stuck with me was Hugh’s injunction that I buy a journal and “write every day.” He told me that if I did that I would be a writer and that he believed in me. I have never forgotten his words, and I have done my best to follow them.

At the end of that year my husband and I moved to San Francisco and Hugh and Isla left the UK to continue exploring the world before returning to NZ. And then one day out of the blue, Isla came to visit me in America on her own. When she arrived, she told me she and Hugh were too different from each other and they had grown apart. Eventually after she got a job and her own apartment, she admitted to me that she had decided not to go back to New Zealand. I was devastated. She and Hugh were the first couple in my immediate peer group to divorce and it frightened me. I didn’t know what to think or feel, but I was smart enough to know it wasn’t my place to interfere in their decision.

The last time I saw Hugh was at his home in Auckland. Isla had sent me to pick up her belongings: a box of clothes, books, and table linens. Hugh was glad to see me, glad I was writing, and especially glad to get rid of Isla’s stuff, but the visit was too loaded with emotional baggage to be as comfortable or as easy as our socializing had been in the past. While we parted on a friendly note, I knew that by representing Isla I had “taken sides” in their divorce and that I wouldn’t be seeing Hugh again. When I published my first book, a nonfiction book about New Zealand for young readers, I did my best to thank him by including mention of his acclaimed The Wizards and The Warriors series. After that I learned Hugh had moved to Japan, remarried, had a daughter, and of course continued to write his heart out. He also became very ill.

Last year, Hugh passed away from brain cancer. His memoir Cancer Patient details much of his thoughts, treatment, and grueling experiences with the disease. The other day on Twitter I saw someone had written, perhaps because of the approaching anniversary of his death: Hugh Cook was the best sci-fi writer ever! I wanted to add my own hearty “yes” to that. Yes, he was and I’m so glad his fans are still as prolific as his writing.

In a tragic side note, Isla also died far too young many years ago in California. She had also remarried, leaving behind two children. There rarely is a day that I haven’t thought of her or Hugh in one way or the other, especially now as I am preparing to release my next book. Every time I pick up my pen and journal, I hear Hugh telling me that to be a writer I must write. Although our lives circled in different orbits, the memories of those unique friendships continues to prod and inspire me. So I just wanted to say thank you, Hugh. And thank you, Isla. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged and helped me to be a writer. I hope I can pass the magic on.

Tip of the Day: List your mentors. How did they help you to become who you are today? Thank them by simply following their advice the best way you can.

You Gotta Love the Conflict!

Conflict. If you’re anything like me, the very word conjures up argument, avoidance, ‘peace at any cost.’ In real life, conflict is rarely fun or something I go looking for. But leave it out of our writing, and we can have some serious conflict with editors and readers.

The first step toward understanding conflict is to know what genuine artistic conflict is not. Compelling conflict rarely stems from:

* Slammed doors.
* Slapped faces.
* Misunderstood fragment of overheard dialogue.
* A spilled drink.
* Romance characters tormenting each other with “fake” lovers.
* Characters complaining they are never understood because
men and women can't communicate.

You get the picture. All of the above are actions and events; things that can certainly be the result of conflict and that can make characters angry, but conflict is much more than anger. Authentic conflict often begins long before your story opens and is the motivating spur behind every decision and action your characters will make. In order to uncover as many levels of conflict possible (and to make life near-impossible for your characters) it can be helpful to explore the following seven areas.

1) The World or Society at Large. This is the world your story characters inhabit. It can be as simple as a barren desert or as elaborate as a feudal realm set in the distant future. Whatever it is, it contains problems; problems that can disadvantage and hold your characters back from their goals in significant ways. For instance, a world at war can be set anywhere from ancient times to the present day, from Middle Earth to outer space, but no matter the weaponry used, war always involves great suffering.

At the opposite end, a peaceful, apparently beautiful society can be filled with social injustice or a devastating class structure. Characters caught up in a perfect life may be the most discontent of all. Consider the poor heroine who is engaged to the perfect man, has the perfect job, eats perfect dinners with her loving, supportive parents every Friday night. On the surface she seems happy, but she may be ready to strangle them all.

Including a backdrop of social turmoil to your work will provide your characters with either past negative experience to overcome, or an ongoing situation that creates constant hardship. “High society” with all its rules and traditions, vices and hypocrisies can be a terribly low place filled with dark secrets and psychoses.

2) The Immediate Professional Environment or Workplace. No matter the times they are born into, your characters all have to do something to make a living. Even if your heroine’s sole purpose in life is to be married off to a peer of the realm, this is still her “occupation.” No matter if your characters are nannies or rock stars, advertising executives or harried FBI agents; they will at some stage encounter the monster boss, rival co-worker(s), ruthless or incompetent employees. Sometimes the workplace itself harbors corruption and is a great source of conflict, such as an unethical law firm or a company cutting corners on its products.

3) The Family. Your characters’ families can provide some of the most interesting and complex levels of emotional and physical conflict for your readers. For instance, the vengeful ex-spouse; jealous or dysfunctional siblings; ill, difficult, or rebellious children; a dependent, needy parent. Keep in mind that even if your characters’ families fall into the warm and supportive category, there can be family conflicts that erupt between “good” and “bad” branches of extended families that can sometimes last for generations.

4) The Achilles Heel. Strong characters should each have an inherent weakness that trips them up precisely when they most need inner balance. You can find this weakness by writing character bios, but also by establishing both an outward goal and an inner goal per character. An outer goal is based on “what they want” while an inner goal is “what they really want.”

Your main character’s outward goal will provide much of the plot structure for the entire book. A good method for ensuring that you have filled this goal with conflict is to interview your character and ask what are his or her doubts, fears, and insecurities. For instance, a woman who wants to rescue abused children may in reality be seeking the nurturing and acceptance she never received from her own family. Her efforts to start a children’s shelter might reveal her own need to finally have a home where she, too, can belong.

5) The Hero and Heroine as a Pair. “Opposites attract” may seem to be your most obvious choice, but even if your hero and heroine are a match made in heaven, at some point you will want to make sure that their individual story goals conflict and send them reeling.

6) Secondary Characters. The problems and conflicts of secondary characters can often mirror those of the hero and heroine. Sometimes these problems can add more conflict for the hero and heroine to solve, especially when the efforts of secondary characters to “help” simply mess things up even further.

7) Villains. Villains can be found from any of the above categories and are one of your strongest sources of conflict for your characters. The job of the villain is to try everything possible to prevent the other characters from achieving their goals. The key to writing great villains is to keep them human with a mixture of both good and evil. Your readers and your other characters should continually be conflicted in their feelings toward villains—tricked, deceived, enraged, sympathetic, and horrified all at the same time. And villains should feel the exact same way about themselves.

More than anything, as you write keep in mind that conflict, at least on the page, is good. If you'd like to learn more about the subject, I've written an entire chapter on creative conflict in my book, The Essential Guide for New Writers, From Idea to Finished Manuscript.

Tip of the Day: Go for the jugular! Read some of your favorite books again and look for the different levels of conflict. While you're at it, go through your current WIP and see if you have used any of these seven conflict areas. What can you include or expand?