An announcement, or a refresher depending on how long you’ve been reading “Summer Vacation”: In a matter of days I’ll be participating in my 5th National Novel Writing Month, also known as NaNoWriMo 2012. It’s an event held by an organization / writing community that encourages people to write a complete novel in one month, using 50,000 words as the goal. I’m happy to say I’ve reached that benchmark in each of the years I’ve done it, and even have a .500 batting average when it comes to manuscripts that have made it as far as being requested be literary agents (although offers of representation are a different story). To save you the trouble of doing the math, this breaks down to a minimum of 1,667 words written every day of November, which might not sound like a lot until you try doing it. And even though I know how consuming of a task it is, I’m feeling pretty pumped to get started. You see, last night I had the chance to take in a very, very inspirational and vindicating experience when it comes to my attempts at writing.
Justin Cronin’s book “The Twelve” was released earlier this month. It’s the second book in a trilogy that began with “The Passage,” which I wrote about a couple years back here. Cronin has quickly become one of my favorite writers. Not only is he telling an intriguing and engrossing story throughout these books, but he is an incredibly gifted writer. I follow him online and saw he had a speaking engagement / book signing scheduled at a book store not far from here. After enduring a Friday of ups and downs, I finally decided to go and got there in plenty of time to get a great seat. I texted a few people while waiting but spent most of my time reading some more of the copy of “The Twelve” I’d brought with to get signed and tapping out some notes on my phone for the book I’ll be starting soon. Since Cronin was an English professor before becoming a full-fledged millionaire, I figured he’d be proud of my multi-tasking choices.
As the event began, the store manager went through all of the formalities of having a bona fide author present, and as she reviewed his biography for the 150 or so people in attendance, Cronin just wandered up between two aisles and stood there listening, smiling at the crowd and waving to a few people he knew. When the manager announced she would go “collect the author,” he just raised a finger, smiled at her, and said, “Right here!” Being a professor, he was obviously comfortable speaking to a large group. He told a few self-deprecating stories from his tour and past signings, talked about the research he did for the new book, did a short reading from the new book and got quickly into questions. “There’s always an awkward moment when we start the Q & A part for these,” he said, “because nobody wants to be the one to go first. To help us get past that, I promise that the person brave enough to ask that first question will be added to my Christmas card list this year.” And true to his word, he did have a store employee take the address of the woman he called on first.
It was a great presentation. He was funny, engaging, informal, and for me being only days away from beginning the most ambitious project I’ve ever taken on, very inspirational. He brought up two tips “for anyone crazy enough to try writing a novel of their own someday” I had never heard or read before that I’ll definitely be using this time around. As he talked about his process, I’d get a little charge whenever he mentioned something similar to how I write: He writes in his head while exercising and then types out the ideas the first chance he gets? That’s what I do on the treadmill! He fights off writer’s block by NOT writing the story in chronological order? THAT’S EXACTLY HOW I DO IT! He wanders around the house in a bathrobe muttering to himself for six months before he starts? Well, okay, maybe not that one.... But listening to him talk about his process and hearing how he answered questions went a long way in reassuring me that even if I haven’t been published yet, I really do know what I’m doing and I’ve got a lot of it right already. When the presentation ended and I had my turn in the line to get my book signed, I told him I was also a teacher who was trying to be a writer, and my main reason for coming that night was just so I’d have the chance to tell him how blown away I am by his written voice (which I truly am). I figured he’d like the comment after he’d said in the presentation that taking the time to write well was almost a fetish for him, but when I made my comment he looked up from my book mid-signature, looked at me with mild surprise, put his hand out to shake mine and said with genuine appreciation, “Thank you for that, brother.” A pretty great moment. I walked out of the store thinking ohmygodjustincroninjustcalledmebrother and then held the adrenaline buzz so long I took two wrong turns while driving a route home I’ve probably driven a hundred times before.
Which brings us to now, the last weekend before NaNoWriMo 2012 kicks in on Midnight, November 1. Like I said earlier, this is easily the most ambitious thing I’ve ever tried to write, and I think if I pull it off it’s going to push me to a whole new level. I’ve got the overarching story planned out in my head and have taken 12,000 words of notes in preparation. I know how it begins, I know the last sentence, and most of what happens in between. I know each character better than I know some of my students. I don’t want to say much about the story because I’m hoping it will take the people who read it by surprise. But if you are one of the three or so people out there who are honestly curious about anything I write, I’ll offer up three not-too-helpful hints:
1 - It’s primarily a contemporary novel based around an ethical dilemma, with a heavy speculative element that could almost be considered science fiction.
2 - It’s written with a Young Adult (ages 13-18) audience in mind.
3 - I have assembled a list of close to 200 songs for the “soundtrack playlist” I’ll listen to while writing to help maintain the tone I’m going for, including the following artists:
*The Dead Weather
*Filter
*Japandroids
*The Killers
*Linkin Park
*Metric
*Muse
*My Chemical Romance
*Nine Inch Nails
*Radiohead
*Smashing Pumpkins
*Taking Back Sunday
That list will either help you recognize the tone a lot or not at all.
Okay. I’ll try to post updates here along the way in addition to my growing word count on Facebook. You could wish me luck if you wanted to, but after that chunk of inspiration I had last night -- I’m ready. I’ve got this.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Fulfilling the Promise Eight Years Out
October 5th is hours away, which means eight years ago from the moment I sit here writing this, my family was congregated at my sister Erin’s bedside watching her struggle through her final breaths.
I used to love autumn. But now the cooler temperatures and the bold colors bring back memories from that year, so strongly imprinted on me that it can be challenging to see beyond the anger and sadness and depression that always re-emerges. These emotions are never far away (in a sense, they’ve replaced the adult life I always reasonably expected to share with both of my sisters) but this time of year, particularly the week leading up to and the days surrounding October 5th, they’re all just a little bit heightened.
As I’ve discussed before, one of her biggest fears about dying was thinking that as time would pass on and life would evolve for those of us left behind, our memories of and feelings for her would gradually fade away. And even though that really isn’t ever going to happen, I think in a way it has a little bit. I’ve noticed that whenever someone dies before their time, the loved ones remaining tend to hang onto an idealized version of the person they lost. We want to remember the good things that were so special about the person that we miss. But that kind of revisionist history isn’t a truth. Sure, the good things are all there, but we all have quirks and insecurities and failings. We all get on each others nerves on occasion. And these things are important dimensions of what makes each of us a whole person.
When I start prepping a manuscript, one exercise I use to get to know my characters is to make lists of their defining attributes. This year I’ve decided to make a list of things that would represent the Whole Erin I knew, as if I were defining her as a character for someone who didn’t know her. Not just the greeting card memories, but the real her. If you never met her, I hope this will help you know more about why she was so important to us. If you did know her, I hope this gives you glimpses back to who she really was, and reminds you just exactly why we miss her so much:
1 - She was all too willing, and in fact eager to bring new friends into her life, sometimes level-jumping into a closeness faster than most people would. Once she decided someone was a member of her inner circle, she made every effort to make sure they understood how important they were to her.
2 - She could not fall asleep without some kind of ambient noise in the room. She packed a small portable fan whenever she traveled, just for the sound it made.
3 - Her taste in music was absolutely head-scratching. Do you remember that odd 90s one-hit wonder, “How Bizarre?” She is the only person I knew who liked that song so much she actually bought the album it came from.
4 - She had a wicked passive-aggressive streak when she wanted to bring it out.
5 - She set a goal to skydive before she turned 30 but didn’t tell my parents about it (or me for that matter, and possibly our sister) until afterward. In retrospect, I saw two reasons for this: First, she didn’t want our mom and dad to freak out about her skydiving. But also it was a good example of how sometimes she would put up little bits of distance between herself and the rest of the family in an effort to define herself.
6 - She would occasionally borrow my car for road trips back home during college. When she would return it, the steering wheel would be slippery with Dorito grease.
7 - Even before she was sick, she believed she was going to die young.
8 - The very day I left home for college, she stole the television out of my bedroom and put it in hers. I can only guess how long she’d been planning that heist before her chance came up.
9 - She owned more sweatshirts than even I do.
10 - If my phone rang during a commercial break while watching The X Files, I knew when I picked it up I’d hear her scream, “OHMYGODDIDYOUSEEWHATJUSTHAPPENED??”
11 - She loved dogs to a point that it was almost irrational. I had to convince her once that it wasn’t a good idea for her dog to ride in her lap when she was driving 80 m.p.h. on the freeway. There are four dogs in our family now: Willow, Mac, Shamus, and Butch. She never knew any of them but would have loved them all desperately.
12 - She planned every possible detail about her funeral, down to what shirts her pallbearers would wear. The only things left for Jenny and I to take care of were writing the eulogy (my job) and choosing the readings for the service. We picked one that said something about sheep because Erin loved sheep, and picked the other because it had been featured in a funeral on The West Wing, which was our favorite show at the time.
13 - Any senior citizen she ever met was an immediate best friend.
14 - She attended a Star Trek convention in downtown Minneapolis once. Her and whichever friend she had gone with got lost looking for it, then saw two people in costume walk by. She nudged her friend and said, “Follow those Klingons.”
15 - Her death wasn’t an easy one, but she fought to maintain her independence, her sense of self and her dignity for as long as she could, even when she was well beyond the point of knowing the time to fight was already over.
16 - She could be horribly bossy and controlling, and often saved it for Jenny and me. I think a lot of it was a youngest-child thing.
17 - She essentially named my dog; when I told her the short list of names I was considering, she picked her favorite by saying, “Well, it doesn’t matter what you call him now, because I’m calling him Spencer!”
18 - When it was just the three of us together -- Erin, Jenny, and me -- we could laugh ourselves wordlessly stupid at the most ridiculous, immature things.
19 - She knew how to hold a grudge when she wanted to.
20 - After her surgery and radiation treatment, she was in remission for all of three months before her cancer returned. I’m pretty sure I know the moment she first suspected it was back -- it happened in my classroom in front of my students.
21 - She was very protective of her private life.
22 - She didn’t respond well to having her insecurities highlighted, even accidentally. Sure, nobody does, but I mean she REALLY didn’t respond well to it.
23 - She would have been one of those people you get sick of seeing appear on your Facebook news feed so often.
24 - She loved our nephews more than she loved anyone else on Earth.
25 - The Erin she put on display for people was as much of a reflection of who she always thought she wanted to be as who she was. And in some dark twist of irony, I think her illness and death was what finally gave her permission to reconcile the two.
I used to love autumn. But now the cooler temperatures and the bold colors bring back memories from that year, so strongly imprinted on me that it can be challenging to see beyond the anger and sadness and depression that always re-emerges. These emotions are never far away (in a sense, they’ve replaced the adult life I always reasonably expected to share with both of my sisters) but this time of year, particularly the week leading up to and the days surrounding October 5th, they’re all just a little bit heightened.
As I’ve discussed before, one of her biggest fears about dying was thinking that as time would pass on and life would evolve for those of us left behind, our memories of and feelings for her would gradually fade away. And even though that really isn’t ever going to happen, I think in a way it has a little bit. I’ve noticed that whenever someone dies before their time, the loved ones remaining tend to hang onto an idealized version of the person they lost. We want to remember the good things that were so special about the person that we miss. But that kind of revisionist history isn’t a truth. Sure, the good things are all there, but we all have quirks and insecurities and failings. We all get on each others nerves on occasion. And these things are important dimensions of what makes each of us a whole person.
When I start prepping a manuscript, one exercise I use to get to know my characters is to make lists of their defining attributes. This year I’ve decided to make a list of things that would represent the Whole Erin I knew, as if I were defining her as a character for someone who didn’t know her. Not just the greeting card memories, but the real her. If you never met her, I hope this will help you know more about why she was so important to us. If you did know her, I hope this gives you glimpses back to who she really was, and reminds you just exactly why we miss her so much:
1 - She was all too willing, and in fact eager to bring new friends into her life, sometimes level-jumping into a closeness faster than most people would. Once she decided someone was a member of her inner circle, she made every effort to make sure they understood how important they were to her.
2 - She could not fall asleep without some kind of ambient noise in the room. She packed a small portable fan whenever she traveled, just for the sound it made.
3 - Her taste in music was absolutely head-scratching. Do you remember that odd 90s one-hit wonder, “How Bizarre?” She is the only person I knew who liked that song so much she actually bought the album it came from.
4 - She had a wicked passive-aggressive streak when she wanted to bring it out.
5 - She set a goal to skydive before she turned 30 but didn’t tell my parents about it (or me for that matter, and possibly our sister) until afterward. In retrospect, I saw two reasons for this: First, she didn’t want our mom and dad to freak out about her skydiving. But also it was a good example of how sometimes she would put up little bits of distance between herself and the rest of the family in an effort to define herself.
6 - She would occasionally borrow my car for road trips back home during college. When she would return it, the steering wheel would be slippery with Dorito grease.
7 - Even before she was sick, she believed she was going to die young.
8 - The very day I left home for college, she stole the television out of my bedroom and put it in hers. I can only guess how long she’d been planning that heist before her chance came up.
9 - She owned more sweatshirts than even I do.
10 - If my phone rang during a commercial break while watching The X Files, I knew when I picked it up I’d hear her scream, “OHMYGODDIDYOUSEEWHATJUSTHAPPENED??”
11 - She loved dogs to a point that it was almost irrational. I had to convince her once that it wasn’t a good idea for her dog to ride in her lap when she was driving 80 m.p.h. on the freeway. There are four dogs in our family now: Willow, Mac, Shamus, and Butch. She never knew any of them but would have loved them all desperately.
12 - She planned every possible detail about her funeral, down to what shirts her pallbearers would wear. The only things left for Jenny and I to take care of were writing the eulogy (my job) and choosing the readings for the service. We picked one that said something about sheep because Erin loved sheep, and picked the other because it had been featured in a funeral on The West Wing, which was our favorite show at the time.
13 - Any senior citizen she ever met was an immediate best friend.
14 - She attended a Star Trek convention in downtown Minneapolis once. Her and whichever friend she had gone with got lost looking for it, then saw two people in costume walk by. She nudged her friend and said, “Follow those Klingons.”
15 - Her death wasn’t an easy one, but she fought to maintain her independence, her sense of self and her dignity for as long as she could, even when she was well beyond the point of knowing the time to fight was already over.
16 - She could be horribly bossy and controlling, and often saved it for Jenny and me. I think a lot of it was a youngest-child thing.
17 - She essentially named my dog; when I told her the short list of names I was considering, she picked her favorite by saying, “Well, it doesn’t matter what you call him now, because I’m calling him Spencer!”
18 - When it was just the three of us together -- Erin, Jenny, and me -- we could laugh ourselves wordlessly stupid at the most ridiculous, immature things.
19 - She knew how to hold a grudge when she wanted to.
20 - After her surgery and radiation treatment, she was in remission for all of three months before her cancer returned. I’m pretty sure I know the moment she first suspected it was back -- it happened in my classroom in front of my students.
21 - She was very protective of her private life.
22 - She didn’t respond well to having her insecurities highlighted, even accidentally. Sure, nobody does, but I mean she REALLY didn’t respond well to it.
23 - She would have been one of those people you get sick of seeing appear on your Facebook news feed so often.
24 - She loved our nephews more than she loved anyone else on Earth.
25 - The Erin she put on display for people was as much of a reflection of who she always thought she wanted to be as who she was. And in some dark twist of irony, I think her illness and death was what finally gave her permission to reconcile the two.
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