Friday, July 15, 2016

Friday Feedback: Liza Wiemer and the WHY of it all. . .


Hey, shiny campers!!!

I'm back from the amazing #nErDcampMI and super excited to have met several Teachers Write campers there, at least briefly! What a wonderful place #nerd camps are. Nora Raleigh Baskin and I had a GREAT time, and I urge you, if you have a chance, to check them out and see if there's one popping up anywhere near you!



Meanwhile, back to real life. Luckily, I am super ridiculously excited to have Liza Wiemer here today to talk about the WHY of it all.


Liza is the author of Hello? about which, SLJ said, 

"Readers will appreciate literary references to Ralph Waldo Emerson, the 19th-century transcendentalist essayist and poet whom Emerson is named after. Chapters open with Emerson quotes. Savvy popular culture fans will savor references to everything from Frank Sinatra's signature songs to Led Zeppelin to films like Psycho and 500 Days of Summer. The author successfully ties these threads together without weighing down the narrative."

Doesn't that sound good? Okay, well don't take it from me or just them: Hello? was also named a Goodreads YA Best Book of the Month, November 2015, and Paste Magazine said, Hello? is one of the most original novels of the year… If you’re looking for something incredibly different...push this to the top of your list.”


I have it on my Kindle and cannot wait. 


            

So, without further ado, here's Liza talking about the WHY of it all:

If you’re a parent, a pre-school teacher, or have ever been around two and three and even four-year-olds, you’ve most likely been pestered with “Why?” Why?” “Why?” After a while, it can get annoying. And eventually the message gets through: Stop asking why! Which stifles our natural curiosity. We learn to mind our own business. To stop paying attention. Or if we do notice something different, witness something painful, hurtful or perhaps interesting or amazing, we don’t necessarily stop and ask why.

But “Why” is the most important question. It’s the key to unlocking a story. It creates depth, meaning, and understanding. “Why” is the revealer of secrets, the motivation for behavior, the unveiling of hidden wounds or a unique talent.

Here’s an example -- and with #3 being the piece I'm putting up for "feedback"  -- which illustrates how “Why” can transform a story. It's not from a WIP exactly, but from my own life. Consider this my excerpt. As I reveal more, pay attention to whether answering "why?" becomes the key to motivation, to making the story compelling. 

1. When I was twelve years old, a Mormon who said hello to me saved my life.

2. When I was twelve years old, my family was whitewater rafting in Utah. My fourteen-year-old sister and I shared a raft. A Mormon couple, whose raft had popped, asked my sister and me if they could join us. They said they’d give us five dollars each if we’d help them out. Twenty minutes later, I fell into the water and the man grabbed my shirt and threw me into the raft, saving my life. At the end of the trip, he gave my sister and me the money.


3. After coping with a brutal divorce and hating my mother for breaking up our family, her idea to take a three-week RV road trip with my future stepfather, stepsister, and stepbrother was an omen for disaster.  My fourteen-year-old sister, my seven-year old brother, and I, at twelve, had no desire to blend our family with strangers. To make the situation worse, my mother cleaned out my savings account to pay for the trip. Without telling me! I had at least fifteen hundred dollars; money I was saving for college. This combination set into motion an event that changed my life forever.

 By the time we reached the Teton Mountains in Wyoming, I considered running away and living like Grizzly Adams. To this day, I can put myself into that space, staring out the laundromat windows, longing for freedom. While folding my soon-to-be stepfather’s underwear, my sister convinced me to stay.

            As our grumpy group traveled west, we stopped somewhere in Utah to go river rafting. I partnered with my sister. It was a beautiful day, and as we meandered down the lazy river, we exchanged hellos with a young couple as they passed us by.

Fifteen minutes later, we came upon them, drenched, standing alongside their deflated raft. The man called to us and explained that they’d hit something sharp, tearing through the raft’s skin. He held up the shredded rubber as evidence. “Could we go down the river with you?” he asked. “It’s too far to walk or swim. We’ll pay you. Five dollars each.”

            The question of safety never crossed my mind. He explained that they were Mormons that no harm would come to us. And, if doing an act of kindness wasn’t motivation enough, the promise of money definitely was a strong incentive. My sister and I welcomed them, and the couple took over paddling.

            Twenty minutes later, a storm came out of nowhere. Pitch black. Thunder. Lighting! A curtain of rain pelted us. The raft dipped, dived, and spun out of control with the treacherous torrent. Before I could secure my life preserver, the raft smashed into an outcrop of boulders and I flew into the water. Down, down, down. The current dragged me along. Face toward the sky, I stared up as my back bumping along the bottom. With no control, nothing to grab ahold of, I knew I was going to die. And somehow, I found peace with it. I accepted it.

            Until a hand fisted my shirt and I was thrown into the raft. The man saved my life.

            Soaked to the bone, we finally made it to the drop-off point. The man pulled out his soggy wallet and removed two five-dollar bills. My sister accepted hers, but I refused. “You saved my life. I can’t take that.”

            “But you have to,” he said. “You helped us, and I promised.”

            Shaking my head, I stepped back. No. I couldn’t take payment after what he’d done for me. If their raft hadn’t popped, if my sister and I had been in alone, surely both of us would have drowned.

            The man held out the five dollars. “Please,” he said. “I made a promise, and when I give my word, it’s important people know they can count on me. By taking the money, you’re doing me a favor. You’re allowing me to fulfill that promise.”

            Reluctantly, I took the money. And learned a life-long lesson. Your word is everything. If you can’t follow through on a promise, explain why. Because otherwise your word means next to nothing. To this day, I try my best to only make a promise when I know it’s one I can keep.

***
           
            For today's Friday Feedback, share an excerpt that you have transformed by asking why. Make sure you dig deep, then deeper, then deeper still.  I look forward to reading your excerpts!


*Campers, please note that Liza's story is longer than the excerpts you should share for feedback (I know, I know, it's unfair, but it would be too much for Liza (and me!) to have to read and give feedback to. So please limit your excerpts to the usual 3 -5 paragraphs. And remember that anything posted past the end of the business day Friday will not necessarily be read by Liza. Anything posted past midday Saturday won't be read by me as I will already be gearing up for next week's Friday Feedback plus a mid-week post!

A huge thanks to Liza for hosting! If you want to read more about WHY from her, you may go HERE: Create rich characters by asking WHY. And please check out Hello? and order a copy for you and/or your students today!

xox Liza (and Gae!)

           

            

75 comments:

  1. Liza, Hello? sounds fantastic -- unusual is good! It gets thought moving. Thank you for stopping in today. Your excerpt is a wonderful personal essay. I really enjoyed it. I think sharing this with students will really get them wanting to share.

    My excerpt is in a format that can't be shared in this comment box. It's a side-by-side poem that was inspired by Jo Knowles Monday Morning Warm Up prompt: I am just one person but I can.....

    We all need to have a hand in grabbing someone out of the river.
    Thanks for dropping in today!

    My excerpt: http://awordedgewiselindamitchell.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your side by side poem is amazing and already giving me ideas for some wonderful writing ideas to incorporate social studies into our poetry writing. I especially like the way you use the president's words in each poem, and I love the lines about fear being the landlord and faith being a politician. It also gives me hope because we survived the 1930's so hopefully we will come out of this crisis as well. Thanks for sharing.

      Delete
    2. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete
    3. Linda, I absolutely love your poem and agree with ludwigpj. It's a perfect idea to incorporate for social studies. I grabbed me immediately. There's emotion, vivid, imagery. The presidential quotes are perfect. One thing I'd like you to consider is adding one or two lines that show why there were food lines, banks that closed. Not everyone knows the history. For the 2016 side, parallel that with the why there were crowds facing down riot gear and innocents attending their own funerals. Thank you for sharing. I hope everyone will take the time to read it! I look forward to seeing more of your writing!

      Delete
    4. Ah, now your name is showing up, Liza!! YAY!!

      Linda: SO FREAKING much to love in that side-by-side poem. A few highlights for me are the places you chose repetition and these two lines: "Fear is a landlord and rent is past due." "Peace isn't what she's cracked up to be."

      I'd love a book of these. . . just saying. I think you could have a whole book featuring a character from then and now of these. Oh yes! Wowwy, zowwy. :D

      Delete
    5. And, YES, to Liza's suggestions!

      Delete
    6. Linda, I completely agree with Gae! I'd read an entire book like this!!! Go for it!!!

      Delete
  2. Hi everyone!
    I look forward to responding to each and everyone of your posts.

    In the meantime, I have a question for you. WHY do you think I chose this personal story to share today? The first person with the correct answer will receive a special prize package from me with ARCs for their classroom!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm meeting with some teachers for the next few hours, but will respond to ALL! Can't wait! (Linda, thanks for being the first to post!!! Excited to read it!)

      Delete
    2. Why did you write this personal story today? I'm so caught up in the news of today and our world I can only think it has to do with saving. You mentioned the couple was Mormon. I want to know why that's significant? Why wasn't it more significant that they were a young married couple? Or, that they were white/black/asian....mixed race couple?
      "He explained that they were a Mormon couple and that no harm would come to us". I found this sentence hitting my curiosity meter and would like to know more about the significance of this....outside of the setting being Utah. I do GET that.

      Delete
    3. To me it seems like the ultimate WHY? Why them? Why me? I find myself thinking on chains of effect frequently and how one second or one different choice might have changed the total outcome of any story, of any life. The butterfly effect if you will. In writing, I'm now having this AHA moment, what if your main character, your secondary characters, the mailman driving down the road having nothing to do with your plot line, would have chosen differently? What would happen?

      Delete
    4. Gae, asked me to comment further on my challenge to all of you regarding why I chose to write this particular story to demonstrate how critical "why" is to story development. I love that people are digging deep and connecting the idea to what's going on in the world around us. Alas, it's simpler. Look for a GENERAL THEME and how it CONNECT to what I've written about in my novel. I hope this helps. Anyone who shares will be put in a drawing and I'll randomly select a winner!!!

      Delete
    5. Ok, I'm probably way off, but... What I get from this is a GENERAL THEME of trust>

      The CONNECTION is: trust in your sister (that's why you stayed), trust in the Mormons (their reputation as caring, trustworthy people is why you had "no question of safety"), trust in your fate (that's why you accepted your impending death), and trust that the Mormon man was telling the truth when he said he is bound by his promises, which is why people can trust you to keep yours. :)

      Delete
    6. Wendy, I absolutely LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the way you think. You look for deeper meanings and this is exactly what we need to do when we think about why an author writes a piece. Whether or not it was my "original" purpose doesn't at all take away from what you uncovered from reading it! I'm actually really impressed. It's what we must do as readers and your answer to why is absolutely valid because it rings true to you! I love it and it's an important message to convey to students!!!! XX

      Delete
    7. Hello Everyone,

      Thank you so much to Gae for this wonderful opportunity to be a guest host on her blog. What a privilege it's been to read and ponder over the pieces you've shared. I'm inspired by your hard work, the heart and soul you've put into your words, and by you dedication and perseverance.

      I appreciate your responses to my question and am in awe of how each one is thoughtful, insightful, and meaningful! Everything you extrapolated and connected to the story is based on your personal perspective, so you're all correct. Your "why" is important. It may not have been my immediate purpose, but the beauty of a why question is that it often leads to other insights! I'm impressed!

      Here are my whys:

      1. I shared the painful background of the moment, rooting it in the experience of my parents' divorce and the way my mother expected two families to bond, because it roots the story and gives you insight into my emotional state. This was a transformative, painful moment in my pre-teen life and it impacted me deeply.
      2. I shared the fact that my mother wiped out my savings account because it deeply influenced my need for money. It created desperation, and took away independence and control. This impacted my future choices.
      3. As a pre-teen, my emotions and visceral reactions were on the surface and influenced my choices. I was seconds away from running away. My sister stopped me. What if she hadn't? The other question is why did she stop me? I most likely will never know. Why? The answer is complicated by life experiences that transpired after this RV trip.

      And finally...
      4. "One Hello can change a life. One Hello can save a life." And "Kindness. Compassion. Chain reaction." These are the themes for my novel HELLO?. The story I shared in this post epitomizes these themes.

      I'm going to add this comment, then put each person's name who responded with an answer into a hat for a random drawing. I'll announce the winner in another reply soon.

      Delete
    8. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete
    9. Hi Linda,
      Thanks for your comment.
      Why did I mention that they were Mormon? It is important to the story because the man pointed it out. He made it significant and it was tied to the key point that they wished us no harm. No way could we or would we have known their faith. He used it for justification.

      Putting myself back into that pre-teen Liza, his declaration was code for faith/belief and trust and helped me to perceive them as non-threatening. "We're Mormons. We won't hurt you." That was the message and I absolutely believed them. (I'm glad I did!)
      If this experience happened today in our society, sadly, I don't know if we would have let them join us. While I was writing this story, the parent in me freaked out. They could have been murderers!!! How sad that we live in a world where we need to think like this. :(

      Delete
    10. Jenn,

      Ahhhhh! I love the butterfly effect! Yes. Yes! :)

      Delete
    11. The winner is...

      Susan Bock! Congratulations!! :) Please email me at lizamwiemer@gmail.com

      Delete
  3. Hi, Liza.

    It's so good to see you here on FF! Of course you know that I read and loved Hello? and have been sharing it with my students all year. I'm looking forward to your next book.

    Your essay (#3) that you shared here is a great story in itself. The difference I see between this one and #s 1 and 2 is that the tale is richer, has deeper meaning. When I read #s 1 and 2, I was like, "Ok. Interesting. Next." When I read #3, I could feel my body and my emotions reacting to the telling. I'm hooked by this poor teen's tale of hating her mother for putting her and her siblings into this situation, and for taking all her money as well. That first paragraph lays the foundation for us to keep reading. The remainder of the essay gets us completely involved by tapping into our senses through environmental and emotional details. The moral of keeping our promises is universal and important in this day and age.

    So, why did you share it? I'm not completely sure, but I want to tie your story into current events. The U.S. - and the world at large - is struggling to make and keep connections with one another. We are all hurting from the horrific events that surround us on a daily basis, and we live in fear of our neighbors. Your story is one of those hugely important drops in the bucket of kindness toward humanity that we all need to start showing more often. It gives us hope. Thank you for sharing it.

    No excerpt from me today, as I am trying to coax my story to reveal the WHY to me. :) Happy Friday!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi, all! Wendy, love that you are trying to coax your story... I know that feeling well. :D

      Liza, wonder if you might clarify your prize question a little. I'm not sure what it is you're asking specifically, although I may not be the brightest bulb. . . :D

      Delete
    2. Thank you so much, Wendy! This means so much to me. And I love your comments about the why. See above to more clarification on this! Regarding another novel, I'm hoping we'll see that next one in the not-so-distant future! :)

      Delete
  4. Thank you for your advice, comments, wisdom and openness in sharing your life's work with us. Hello? is now on my list of must reads this summer. Your essay reminds me so much of what I tell my fourth graders about writing and that is that it is best to write what you know. It was so obvious through your word choice that this story was real and the experience was numbing. For anyone who has had a period of hating their parents, sister, brother (you name it) this telling will bring back memories of their own experiences and make the story even more memorable than it already is. It struck a chord because of its richness in description and emotion. I'm guessing you shared it because of the fact that the Mormons were unknown to you, yet you trusted them. By helping them you ultimately helped yourself, but of course you didn't know that at the time. We save ourselves by saving others. What if our world could see that message?
    Here is my excerpt.
    For a few minutes I was able to watch her without her knowing I was there. I came around the corner and instantly recognized the familiar stance. She stood against the counter, one foot slightly behind the ankle of her opposite leg, her slender arms bent at the elbow, her head tilted just a little to the right. She had no expression, she was watching without understanding, taking in the others. She lifted a hand, large blue veins, tan and worn, to her soft cheek. She brushed away the bangs that had come loose from the headband holding back her silver gray hair and she blew softly as if that would somehow tame the bangs that fell. I held back, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting to break her focus or her concentration in case she just needed time to make sense of it all. Rushing in would cause her to lose whatever understanding she had, though likely it wasn’t enough to make sense of what held her attention. She shook her head slightly as though she were awakening, and then abruptly she turned, seeing me as I stepped forward.
    Pretending to have just arrived, I exclaimed, “Oh, mom, there you are!” She recognized me, brightened and came alive. Taking my arm she pulled me away from the others, away from the tables where the residents gathered for their meals and towards her apartment. Her pull was surprisingly strong, forcefully fed by her emotional need to be in control and to let me know that she was still in charge. I let her lead, and I followed. She was, in that moment, still my mom, and I was grateful that for this small moment I was still her daughter.
    Dementia has no mercy. It steals memories and joys without warning. There is no rhythm, no beat, and no chorus to this dance. It’s an unpredictable partner, its tempo can’t be choreographed or tamed. It arrives silently, taking root deep within, frustrating its host and it always wins. It always wins.
    Dementia has a hold on my mom. I am a spectator with no power or ability to interfere. I cannot manage, or control or steer. I negotiate, I consider, I sidestep, I pray. I am her daughter and I will record her voice while it is still strong. I will journal her days, her joys, her successes and triumphs as she battles with everything she has. Dementia will eventually win, but she will not lose. She will not be forgotten to this disease. I will capture her voice as it becomes a whisper. I will collect and protect the memories as they drift away from her like seeds in the wind. I will carry what she cannot.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, PJ....unless it's Ludwig?
      This is powerful. You are clearly in this story and my heart aches for you. That moment when you watch someone's true self as an observer unobserved...such a writable moment and it works here. Works really well.
      I wonder if you had some distance from this piece (I don't know when it was written) and came back at it with a re-write as a poem or a picture book? The reason I ask is because there are some lines that just sing in this:
      I was still her daughter
      dancing with dementia
      forcefully fed by her emotional need

      I would love to see those lines stand out and/or alone in some way. I can almost see an illustrated mom and daughter at the rest home dancing with the dementia. And, it brings tears to my eyes.

      Keep going. This is a gem of a piece.

      Delete
    2. PJ, this is so powerful and beautiful. This especially moved me:

      Dementia has no mercy. It steals memories and joys without warning. There is no rhythm, no beat, and no chorus to this dance. It’s an unpredictable partner, its tempo can’t be choreographed or tamed. It arrives silently, taking root deep within, frustrating its host and it always wins. It always wins.

      I love Linda's idea to play with it in free verse... as it may show you places to pull back and let the powerful moments speak on their own. A place that would help is in the first paragraph where you may have more "body logistics" than are needed -- causing the reader to do more work than necessary to figure it out vs. walk with you in the still, outsider-looking-in moment. For example, "arms bent at the elbow," could simply be "arms bent" as really where else do we bend our arms (I suppose wrist, but arm connotes elbow)? So without changing your lovely language, but in places combining (e.g. your second sentence where she comes around the corner seems it should be first before watching unnoticed, so I combined) or pulling out extra words, maybe, e.g. this, your original first para:

      For a few minutes I was able to watch her without her knowing I was there. I came around the corner and instantly recognized the familiar stance. She stood against the counter, one foot slightly behind the ankle of her opposite leg, her slender arms bent at the elbow, her head tilted just a little to the right. She had no expression, she was watching without understanding, taking in the others. She lifted a hand, large blue veins, tan and worn, to her soft cheek. She brushed away the bangs that had come loose from the headband holding back her silver gray hair and she blew softly as if that would somehow tame the bangs that fell. I held back, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting to break her focus or her concentration in case she just needed time to make sense of it all. Rushing in would cause her to lose whatever understanding she had, though likely it wasn’t enough to make sense of what held her attention. She shook her head slightly as though she were awakening, and then abruptly she turned, seeing me as I stepped forward.

      Could be tightened just a bit to this:

      For a few minutes I was able to watch her without her knowing I was there. I'd come around the corner and instantly recognized the familiar stance, one foot slightly behind the other, slender arms bent, her head tilted just a little to the right. She wore no expression, simply watched the others without understanding. She lifted a hand, tan and worn, large blue veins, to her soft cheek, and brushed away the bangs that had come loose from the headband holding back her silver gray hair, blowing softly as if that would somehow tame the stragglers that fell back in her eyes. I held back, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting to break her focus or her concentration in case she just needed time to make sense of it all. Rushing in would cause her to lose whatever grasp she had found, though likely it wasn’t much. She shook her head slightly as though awakening, then abruptly turned, seeing me as I stepped forward.

      By not working so hard to "see" the exactness of her stance, we "feel" it more and the words, at least for me, have more impact. Of course, you would likely discover all of this yourself during revision, but it's a good opportunity to be illustrative, so I took it. Beautiful writing. Keep going!

      Delete
    3. Wow! PJ! You GOT IT! What I loved about what you wrote is how you drew the reader in with the story and didn't reveal the big why until the end. This is a powerful way to keep the reader guessing, needing to find out what's happening to the characters.

      I want to point out to readers that you do an excellent job of expressing "why" throughout your piece.

      One thing you may want to consider adding is the visceral reaction of your character around this section.

      "I held back, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting to break her focus or her concentration in case she just needed time to make sense of it all. Rushing in would cause her to lose whatever understanding she had, though likely it wasn’t enough to make sense of what held her attention. She shook her head slightly as though she were awakening, and then abruptly she turned, seeing me as I stepped forward."

      It will help to reinforce the why. From what I surmise from your piece, the daughter has witnessed this before. In your piece we initially see her as an observer and a bit emotionally detached. Consider exploring that emotional part by adding a line or two... Also, depending on if this is a recent diagnosis or one that they've been living with for a while, the impact/emotion may be different. Is her heart breaking into a million pieces or is she numb to it because she's seen this so many times?

      Something to think about/consider: Part of digging deeper, depending on if it serves a purpose to your story, could be to show a moment when the daughter didn't wait, but instead interrupted her mother in a similar situation. Was the reaction awful? Did the daughter learn not to interrupt, but to wait?

      I'm cheering you on! This is powerful, impactful, and so vivid I found myself standing in the daughter's shoes. Keep going!!!!

      Delete
  5. Good morning, Liza! Thank you for your time and provocative post and prompt. I, too, was pulled into your anecdote once the action got going and was impressed by the impact of the man insisting on giving the money after saving your life. Of keeping his word. I'm wondering if it was sparked by the long, contentious politics of the presidential election. How can we trust anyone? Who do we believe?
    I'm looking forward to checking out Hello?

    The following is from my WIP. My MC is babysitting kids who knew her little sister who was abducted. They claimed to have seen her recently and Grace-Ann has called the police in charge of the investigation and has already explained why she called:

    "Are you and the children in any danger?"
    I paced in the living room, from the couch to the curtains, and back again. I stopped long enough to hit the back of the couch.
    "No. No, you're not listening. I need someone to come out to interview these children. I need you to search the premises, check for evidence, DNA, fingerprints, something."
    "How old are the children?
    "What difference does that make? Five and seven, I think. They swear they saw her."
    "Miss Wilson, we'd be happy to talk to you further. It sounds like you have a job to do right now, and there is no reason for us to come out tonight." His voice was infuriatingly calm and deliberate. He didn't believe me. He didn't care.
    "What? The fact that they said they'd seen her? That she'd been here?"
    "We can talk to their parents in the morning."
    "You need to talk to them now. You need to do your fucking job! Why is this so hard?" I could feel my heartbeat in my temples and I resumed my pacing.
    "Calm down, Miss Wilson. Perhaps you can call one of your parents and have them join you there so you aren't alone when you're so upset."
    "I wouldn't be alone if . . ." I hung up. Why was this so hard? I swear, it felt like a police conspiracy. There was no other explanation. Well, other than incompetence.
    I dialed 911.
    "911. What's your emergency?"
    "I just saw a prowler outside the house."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ohmygosh....that last line....I laughed. Totally inappropriately. But I so get the frustration of this kid who wants the police to listen. But, she's a kid....babysitting kids who have information (or not). GREAT piece and way to go with building suspense. The punch of that last line is great. I hope you end a section or a chapter with it.

      Delete
    2. I did the same, Linda, laughed at her frustrated ingenuity with that last line, knowing it was nervous inappropriate laugh -- beyond helpless with your MC. Loved it. It tells us so much about the character. Great tension and dialogue, Jen! This story is so upsetting and so compelling... I wonder how old your MC is and want to feel that more from your piece. From the language she uses in this segment "search the premises" makes her sound older. Of course, she could be mimicking language she's heard repeatedly since this happened, but I'd love to see the places where we see hints of her actual age. Do tell! Keep going!

      Delete
    3. Hi Jen, you drew me right into the conversation and that last line! My goodness! I love that it was so unexpected and clever. The perfect way to have your MC get what she needs. There's tension, emotion, fear, and I am definitely curious about what these kids saw!

      Thinking about why, I have a few questions:
      Why did the police officer ask for the kids' ages? Have you asked a police officer what the protocol is for situations like this so that the line is authentic? Can police question minors without parents being present?

      You state: "He didn't believe me. He didn't care." - From what I understand, this has been an ongoing investigation with the police. Since this is a sample, you may have already considered all of these things or already incorporated these ideas into your story. If not, I hope these questions are thought provoking and helpful:

      In the past, have the police treated your MC in a way that has made it clear that they don't care or believe her? Why would the investigating officers treat her this way? Is it just because they're incompetent or has your MC led the police on wild goose chases in the past?

      You have me completely intrigued. Love to know what's going to happen next. Cheering you on!

      Delete
  6. Dear Liza,
    Thanks for sharing with us today and reminding us about the power of why, a question we ask ourselves as writers and in our daily lives. Why did you pick this piece to share? We can all give many answers but at the end of the day, we may not ever have an answer. Why did your MC have the reaction that she did? Why did it matter to that man so much to keep his word? Why was the water so rough? Many times we get no answers but we keep going anyway, reaching out,helping, believing, impacting the lives of others.

    Here's just a short clip from a novel I've written:

    I click off my bedroom light. Within seconds she's there. "I'm afraid of the dark, Praise." Missy says.
    "There's nothing there that isn't there in the daylight," I say.
    "Shadows, Praise. There are shadows."
    "There are shadows in the daylight too, Missy."
    "Sun shadows are different than dark shadows. Sun shadows make you stretch out your arms and spin around until you're dizzy. Dark shadows ice over you and cause your heart to forget to beat."
    I flip my light on. "Don't be afraid, Missy. I won't let the dark shadows come."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I really love the descriptions of shadows here, especially all the different kinds. Very poetic. It creates a lot of images in my mind. And I'm wondering what is going to come from the dark shadows later in the story!

      One thing to think about is the slight unnaturalness of the characters using each other's names in a conversation where it's clear they already know each other. But that's a minor editing detail.

      Delete
    2. Martha,

      I love this little clip so much. Just lovely. The names didn't bother me, they made me feel, perhaps, the formality of an age-disparate relationship -- caregiver to child? Maybe saying names to comfort one another. . . ?

      Either way, just lovely! Keep going!

      Delete
    3. Hi Martha,
      Wow! I have never stopped to ever think about shadows this way and it made me immediately look around and take in my environment, to pay attention to shadows. Love it!!!

      Not only that, I am curious... who is Missy?? She shows up right after the light is clicked off... "Within seconds she's there." Does she disappear when Missy turns on the light? Ooooh you have me intrigued!

      Looking at this line, which I love: "Dark shadows ice over you and cause your heart to forget to beat."

      Clearly, there is a lot of fear that surrounds shadows. Here are some questions that I hope might be helpful to digging deeper.
      Can you show the reader a visceral reaction to help reinforce the why?
      Why is Missy not concerned about the shadows, the dark, but Praise is terrified?

      One major "why" relates to placement of an action. It's good to weigh the pros and cons. Would this be a good moment to show the shadows doing something to reinforce that they are indeed something to fear?

      Obviously, that's a moot point if the shadows are indeed nothing, but since you chose this piece, it made me wonder if they have a significant role in your novel! :)

      Definitely intrigued! Cheering you on!!!!!

      Delete
    4. Oooo, this literally gave me shivers! Nice mood in such a short clip! My interest was definitely piqued. An imaginary friend or multiple personalities, perhaps?!

      Delete
  7. Just a quick check-in! I love the comments! Will be responding to all the comments when my teacher meeting Is through! Thanks, Liza

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, Liza, any way to get your name to show up in your avatar? Wonder how others do it? Maybe they can share!

      Delete
  8. Hi, Liza,

    Thanks for today’s lesson. You ask the “Why?” about the importance of a promise. In my chapter book manuscript, I ask the “Why?” about the importance of not cheating, which is very important to me as a father and a teacher (cheating is wrong). The passage of “Why?” in my manuscript is quite long, so I just took a small snippet of it.

    As for the personal story, I really enjoyed reading it. The description was vivid and your story is exciting. While reading the passage, I could feel the emotion you were feeling. Having whitewater rafted on the Arkansas River (with guide) and in the Adirondacks (without a guide), I am familiar with the thrills and dangers of the river, and you captured it beautifully.

    The message at the end wrapped it up nicely. Like not cheating, keeping a promise is equally as important and I love that he kept his promise.

    Why do I think that you picked a personal story today? Maybe, you picked it because it’s a memory that happened right around this time in July many years ago or it’s where you got the idea for your book. I will write that I was thinking that the Mormon man, who kept his promise, would make a better presidential candidate than the ones that are running currently and not keeping any promises.:)

    Here is my excerpt (remember it is just a small excerpt about “Why” cheating is not right – the original plan was to use the sister’s “A+” poster from many years before):

    The classroom quiets just as Jared whispers, “Is the poster almost done?”
    I pause for a second. “Maybe we should start over?”
    “Are you kiddin’ me?” he gasps.
    “What if we get caught?”
    “If we get caught, I’m telling her that it was all your idea. Who’s she gonna believe? Me or you?”
    “That’s not fair. I’m starting over.”
    “Suit yourself.” But he doesn’t sound defeated.
    He raises his hand, and of course, Ms. Dean calls on him immediately. “I have something that I would like to confess about Sammy.”
    I poke his shoulder and quickly say, “We’ll use the poster.”
    “What is it, Jared?” Ms. Dean asks and gives me the annoyed look.
    “Never mind. I was just going to confess that Sammy likes sports more than anyone I know.”
    She rolls her eyes and sighs, “I know.”
    The rest of the day was a complete blur. All that I could think about was the science project, and how I was going to fix this mess that I have got myself into. The only solution: Do a new poster.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I really like how your main character is struggling. The tension of working on a project together really comes through.

      I wonder if, instead of the line 'I pause for a second' if there might a little hint of how the character is feeling at that moment.

      I would definitely read more of this - I'm already wondering what's going to go wrong next.

      Delete
    2. Hi Andrew,
      Thank you for your comments about my story and your thoughts on why! :) More on this later when I share my why with everyone.

      Way to go! With your piece, I immediately picked up on the tension. Also, that was some clever manipulation on Jared's part to get Sammy to do what he wants her to do. Cheating is such a huge, important issue, and I love that you're showing a pivotal moment! The moral dilemma is excellent!

      You show that the teacher, Ms. Dean, is annoyed by Jared. His behavior, words clearly show that he is indeed annoying.
      Earlier in the paragraph Jared says, "Who’s she gonna believe? Me or you?”
      We only have a short snippet here so it's hard for me to know for sure if this reflection of his behavior and the teacher's reaction makes Jerod more of a trustworthy person than Sammy. This is a good "why" moment. Why did the teacher react this way? Is this how she treats everyone, or just Jerod? Is it more of a reflection on her or on Jerod's behavior? How does it connect to "trust?"

      Another why question, which is perhaps obvious, is why is Sammy someone who is less likely to be believed? What has transpired to break that trust and is everyone aware of her cheating past? Does the teacher know? If so, then Jerod calling out to the teacher has extra weight. If you haven't done so already, think about the deeper why and see where it might lead you. :)

      Also, why is starting over a bad thing? What are the pros and cons here for both Sammy and for Jerod? How does the choice reflect their personalities? All of these questions influence the why.

      Andrew, you definitely have me hooked and interested in where this will lead! Keep going. I'm cheering you on!



      Delete
    3. Enjoyed your excerpt, Andy! And Liza has pushed you with plenty more Whys if you want to answer some of them at some organic point in your story!

      Delete
  9. How powerful one simple word can be! Thank you for sharing your three different versions of the story, changed by "why". What I especially liked about the third one was how much more meaningful it became, knowing the "why" he insisted on paying for the trip. It reminded me of how through every interaction with another person, we may be helping each other even if we don't realize it, just by being kind and honest. I also liked the writing style of using sentence fragments to convey emotion.

    This exercise is particularly timely for me, as I'm revising a novel to include more introspection -- and explanations of "why."

    Here's my writing snippet for this week (my characters are on a wilderness adventure, participating in a fire-building challenge):


    Amelia’s bag was there, all zipped up, but there was no sign of the mirror. There wasn’t time to go back and get her. Jade stared at the bag again. The mirror could mean the difference between winning and losing. She slid her hand over the crinkly nylon.

    “What are you doing?” Amelia lunged across the cabin and snatched her bag away.

    “Sorry. We need your mirror. It’ll reflect sunlight so we can start our fire.”

    “It’s right there.” Amelia pointed, still holding her pack. The mirror balanced haphazardly at the edge of her pillow.

    Jade took the mirror, clutching it tightly as she struggled to find the words to explain. “I wasn’t trying to…um…do you have any cotton balls? They’d make great tinder.”

    She fled, her face burning like the fire she hoped to build. She hadn’t meant to seem like she was snooping. Hopefully, Amelia understood and would come back to finish the challenge.




    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Andrea,
      Yes, yes, yes! I completely agree with this! :) "It reminded me of how through every interaction with another person, we may be helping each other even if we don't realize it, just by being kind and honest."

      Now onto your writing! You put me right into the scene and I'm definitely interested in what Amelia is hiding in her bag that she doesn't want Jade to find!!!

      Here are some why questions for you to consider as you work to revise:
      Why is Amelia so protective of her things? Could you build additional tension by sharing an observation that Jade has made about Amelia and her things?

      "Jade stared at the bag again." (Could you reflect here, show a past incident involving Amelia that would give Jade extra pause about touching Amelia's bag?) Why might you want to build some additional tension at this moment?

      Also, you say: "Hopefully, Amelia understood and would come back to finish the challenge."

      Here's a good place to ask yourself why. Why would Jade wonder if Amelia wouldn't return to finish the challenge? (Since this takes place at the wilderness adventure, wouldn't everyone have to participate?) Why would Amelia not understand? Is Jade normally a snoop? If she is, then that would be a good reason why Amelia would have a strong reaction. Or, is there something deeper in Jade's past, a moment where she's been falsely accused of being a snoop and therefore extra sensitive about it? That's an example of a deeper why to consider, which could impact your story. :) Look carefully at their personalities and ask why their reactions relate to this interchange.

      Hope this helps! (And my list of why questions in the link at the bottom of this post.) Good luck with the revisions. I'm cheering you on!



      Delete
    2. Thank you so much for your thoughts! Your questions are making me think -- and also reminding me of a later incident in the novel that might link back to this one.

      Delete
    3. And the list of questions is awesome! It will be so helpful during the revision process.

      Delete
    4. Andrea, I am so glad to hear that. :) Good luck! You can did it!!!!

      Delete
    5. I love how Liza's why questions push us to think. Reminds me of when my kids were two and were constantly asking, "But why?"

      Keep going, Andrea!

      Delete
  10. Hi Liza,

    Thanks so much for this thought-provoking post. I really enjoyed your story, and wonder if this life experience was perhaps what gave you the idea for your book Hello? I think it's a very powerful idea that one person can come into your life and change everything, and your rafting experience is a dramatic example of that!

    I've just started working on a MG novel, and the first few pages I've written definitely show the main character dealing with trying to understand "why" certain things are happening in her family. Here's my excerpt:

    “You can’t imagine what she’s going through. What she’s been through,” Dad says as he winds the car though the curvy hills that lead into downtown.

    You’re wrong! I shout in my head as I remain slumped and frowning in the front seat. ALL I can do is imagine. No one has told me anything about what is going on. Not really. Maybe they thought they did, but in reality, they’ve been too wrapped up in her to bother to pass any information on to me. I wanted to ask. I tried, more than once, but the words jammed in my throat and wouldn’t come out. I’ve swallowed them down so many times now that they’ve morphed into a boulder in my stomach. They probably think it’s better for me, to spare me the details. They don’t seem to realize that the not-really-knowing is like a haze that sticks to me and follows me around all day, clouding everything I do. I’m always imagining, putting together the pieces of what I think I know.

    The yelling. Threats. Phone calls. All overhead through my bedroom door when they thought I was asleep.

    Slamming doors. The look of her back, rigid and angry, as she walked away from our house and down the street. I watched from our bedroom window.

    More phone calls. “She’s run away. Again.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Susan,
      I love that you see a connection to my novel, HELLO?! More for people to think about. :)

      Incredible job creating tension immediately. I think everyone can relate to not feeling understood, that fear! So powerful.

      I love the use of short sentences here to build the tension:

      "The yelling. Threats. Phone calls. All overhead through my bedroom door when they thought I was asleep.

      Slamming doors. The look of her back, rigid and angry, as she walked away from our house and down the street. I watched from our bedroom window.

      More phone calls. “She’s run away. Again.”

      Here are some why questions that came to my mind:
      Why does your character watch her sister walk away, but not take any action? Or does she?
      Why does your character hold back from asking her parents for more information? You state: :I wanted to ask. I tried, more than once, but the words jammed in my throat and wouldn’t come out." - Here's a perfect moment to dig deeper and ask why? Has there been moments in her past where her parents have shut her down? Is she afraid her parents are going to blame her? Does she blame herself? If so, why?
      Obviously, I'm basing my questions only on what you've shared, but this could be a huge opportunity to strengthen your story with a major event that keeps your character from having a voice! Moments like that can transform a novel.

      On a personal note, my sister ran away from home at 15. She came back for a short time, but then left again, and eventually found a home with her boyfriend's family. They were fabulous people. Your piece has me intrigued! and I'm really interested to see where this is going. I'm cheering you on!

      Delete
    2. Susan, I really like all the thoughts. It seems so realistic--especially the way a person's mind works to put together "a story" of what's going on when they aren't sure of all the details. I would read on to find out what happens next!

      Delete
    3. Agree with the others as to the strong tension in this scene you share here, and like Liza, love those short bursts! Keep going!

      Delete
  11. Dear Liza -
    Thank you for your time today! I love your story and now have no desire to go rafting ever again. (I might have a drowning phobia.) Thank you for this exercise - I've been working with my character for ages, but I hadn't sat down and thought about *why* he has this trait. (Duh.)

    People talked about how to add emotions to kids like him, kids with autism. Owen thought this was nonsense. He had plenty of emotions. If anything, he thought that other people failed to build their emotions on facts and beauty and simply went with their primal instincts.

    Spiders were a prime example. Most people are afraid of spiders. Or hate them. Often both. Even babies, who know nothing of the world, respond with fear when shown a spider.

    Owen didn’t know why he wasn’t wired to fear spiders, but he did know why he loved them.

    Spiders were careful, with long limbs that reached out to gently test their surroundings before dancing across surfaces. They were brave, jumping into the air, with only fragile silk thread to keep them safe. They were diligent, working hard on webs and hunting insects. They were quiet, silent guardians, keeping the natural world in balance.

    They were everything Owen wished to be.


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Terry that last paragraph into that last line are just BEAUTIFUL.

      LOVE. ADORE. *breathes them in*

      (as for the lines right above... prime example/ babies who know nothing of the world... I'm wondering about voice and whether that sounds old for either Owen's voice or the voice of an MG book. I don't know the answer, just wondering... ) <3

      Delete
    2. Hi Terry,
      You pulled me in immediately! Your writing is beautiful and lyrical and the reader gets into Owen's thoughts immediately. I fell in love with Owen the second I read, "Owen thought this was nonsense. He had plenty of emotions."

      You do an excellent job describing why Owen loves spiders...

      Here are a few things to think about:

      When you say, "People" talked about how to add emotions to kids like him." Who is the "People?" Is it Owen's parents? Teachers? Therapists? Or is it "Adults?" If you believe it's appropriate, I would specify...

      Would this be a good place to show Owen interacting with a spider? Or perhaps why he first came to love spiders? What was that first moment he remembers? Another possibility might be to share a secret or private moment he's had with one. Definitely weigh the pros and cons here to adding an example.

      Another point to consider: Why does Owen know that babies respond with fear? Has he witnessed it? For example: "Even my baby brother flinched when I dropped a spider on his hand" shows us that Owen has this knowledge.

      Finally, that LAST LINE! It's great.

      And a note to Owen: Owen, I've been bitten by spiders. I'm not afraid of them, but I don't like them, either. If I see one in my house, I try not to kill it. Instead, I'll trap it and put it outside. Even though I don't like them, can we still be friends? I'd like to be your friend. I like the way you look at the world and how observant you are.

      Terry, keep going! I'm cheering you on!

      Delete
    3. Liza and Gae -
      A thousand kisses! Thank you so much! I'm fitting this into a spot that comes right before Owen observes a spider up close - so I'm glad you want an example and I will rein in all that adult language. And I'm relieved he's relatable, that's my current goal for my boy. <3 !
      Terry

      Delete
    4. Terry, So glad! You got this!!!!! To Gae's point, I did think that Owen was an older YA, not MG. And the word "kid" would indicate MG more than older YA. But I also picked up on how bright he is... and how people sell him short. Was this part of your intention? Clarification/verification/evidence through examples would be excellent somewhere within your novel!

      Delete
    5. Terry, this is wonderful. I agree with the "people talked..." not sure what it's tied to. I love Owen's perception of spiders as graceful and guardians, quiet....so much like himself. Hmmmmm spiders on the spectrum.....I think this is a good NF title for a companion book to this one! xoxox

      Delete
  12. Okay, I am back this week.
    Thanks in advance for any feedback you can give me. This is from that same WIP from the previous time I posted.

    Running toward Main Street, houses and trees start to disappear and tall, brick buildings that connect to each other take their place. I stop once my feet land on Main Street to catch my breath. The cardboard inside my shoes shift as I run. Daddy cut a piece out of a box to cover the holes in the soles. I move my foot around and feel the cardboard slide. I lift my foot up to see. Yup, it’s covered, I think out loud. I put my hands up behind my neck and breath in and out. My lungs are on fire.

    Car upon car parked along the street telling me that people are busy shopping. Bells ring loudly echoing across town. Doors open from churches across the street as people walk out, down the few steps, chatting with each other. I couldn’t mind them. I had a mission. Women dressed to the nines with hats perched on their heads, their purses dangling from their forearms, and men decked out in suits zigzag in front and behind me. They look the opposite of Daddy and Momma. Doors open constantly, ringing bells clanging above the doorframes.
    I
    am
    invisible.
    I try my hardest to
    keep my focus.
    Breath in.
    Breath out, I tell myself. I could feel sweat dripping down my cheeks.
    Even though it was April and rainy and cold and drab, I was burning up from all the running I was doing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi John,
      Thanks so much for sharing!!!!
      I love the detail of the cardboard in your character's shoes and I could picture Main Street beautifully! I felt your character's movement, great kinetic energy. :)

      This contrast gave me a really good impression of his parents/family! "Women dressed to the nines with hats perched on their heads, their purses dangling from their forearms, and men decked out in suits zigzag in front and behind me. They look the opposite of Daddy and Momma."

      Here's a few suggestions:
      Look at paragraph one and again at your last line you shared at the very end: Pay attention to the order. Ask yourself, "Why am I putting this sentence here?" Is there a better place for it? For example, you wrote: "I put my hands up behind my neck and breath in and out. My lungs are on fire." How might you revise/connect several sentences?

      I'd love to see you revise on your own because it's part of getting into the habit of asking yourself those why questions. "Why am I including this? Why am I putting this here?"

      Word choice: Line one - disappear. Is there a magical element to this novel? The poetic section: Invisible... again, magical?
      But from context, I believe he's invisible because of his shabbiness. And he really isn't invisible because they're zigzagging around him. Why "invisible?" What can you add that will convey your meaning?

      You have wonderful details, John. You got this! Let me know if you have any questions/concerns etc about any of these comments. I hope the "Why" questions at the end of the post (click on the link) will be helpful for you. I'm cheering you on!

      Delete
    2. oh, wow. cardboard in the shoes....what time period is this? Why is running to main street on a Sunday. Your details are great and I especially like brick buildings connected to each other.

      I want to know more...why is this person invisible? I just want to know more...period. I like the action and thoughts and description.

      Delete
  13. John,

    Loving, loving, loving the voice of this excerpt and the detail of what he sees on Main St. Watch your tenses, friend. You switch from past to present and even though it's something that can be fixed on revision, make sure you fix it before you submit! It's a distraction that will otherwise take away from your powerful writing. <3

    ReplyDelete
  14. Hi Liza! Hi Gae!

    I really like this idea of asking why to dig deeper into the story. I can see how your why answers led to the excerpt you shared and how it's much stronger when you get to that point and embed it into your story. Thanks for sharing so we can see what this looks like!

    Here's a bit from the novel I'm revising right now. I'm not in love with this little section...and maybe it's because it's out of context but it doesn't seem to flow well. Maybe I'm telling too much? The whole idea of getting the back story in without just telling is t-r-i-c-k-y! Any feedback is appreciated! xoxo

    ****

    When I come back, Hayden’s waiting for me, hands on his hips.

    “Don’t look at me like that.” I brush past him and back to my desk. I fold a towel over my now-clean brushes, patting them dry. “I like not thinking about it.” Not thinking about it means I don’t have to admit I went behind my dad’s back. I can pretend it never happened.

    He follows me. “You you have to tell him.”

    I never had to defend my art before my abuela died. Even though she wasn’t his mother, my dad respected her. But then she got sick and she was in the hospital and she was gone. I lost the one person who understood me and how much I loved my art. The thought of not painting makes my heart clench but my dad wants me to focus on the important things: school and work. It’s all about saving money and having work experience to put on my resumé so I can go to college and get a good job.

    Without telling my parents, I applied for the Art Show, doubting I would get in, but curious if my art would be good enough to be accepted. And it was. Now the Art Show is next weekend, I still haven’t told my parents, and I’m second guessing everything.

    Teenagers rebel, right? It’s what they do. Except not in my family. It’s not okay to disobey my parents. So I'm still pretending I didn't.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Wow Jen!!!! I was sucked into the story immediately. It struck all the right emotional buttons, put me into the scene, and I was hooked. Bravo!

    Regarding the flashback: My gut feeling is it needs focus, sharp details, and I am also wondering if it hits you on a personal level? Could that be why it's more of a struggle?

    Something like this might add some punch:
    But then...she got sick. Went into the hospital. Two days later, she died.

    Give a quick example of how Abuela was deeply supportive of her art.
    I don't normally give such specific directions, but I know you're struggling, so hopefully you can use this as a starting point. This emotional connection is, what I believe is what's missing from the flashback. It's the deeper why for your character. Many authors struggle with things that pierce the heart. I certainly have!

    I loved my art. But what I loved the most was how every time I showed my abuela a painting, she'd stand for ten minutes without saying a word and scrutinize every inch. I loved how her face lit up with joy and pride, and then she'd turn to me and pat my cheek, and say, " ."
    (Present day emotional reaction to this...)
    I lost the one person who understood me and how much I loved my art. The thought of not painting makes my heart clench but my dad wants me to focus on the important things: school and work. It’s all about saving money and having work experience to put on my resumé so I can go to college and get a good job."

    And that last paragraph!!!! <3

    I hope this helps! You got this, Jen!!! I'm cheering you on!!!


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jen,

      What I really like about this excerpt is that the mc is rebelling and doesn't want to face her own misgivings about it. The conflict here is that she's rebelling by being an achiever. That's the part of the problem that's different. You say you are not in love with this section. I have questions that might get at showing...
      -How was Abuela's sickness, hospitalization and death which is a fairly typical progression for many different. Did Abuela "achieve" something even in her illness and passing that was inspirational to this mc?

      This mc must paint....WHY? (see what I did there?) is it only so that her heart won't clench? I'm betting it's more than that...and perhaps that is elsewhere in the story.

      I have a painter in my house. She struggles with anxiety in real life but when she is painting her anxiety isn't present. She is able to express the way she "sees" in so many artistic ways. This mc must see her problem in a different way. What is it in this scene. I think it has something to do with drying the brushes, myself. But, I don't know.

      I hope my questions help. I want, want, want fiction stories for my artist girl. She needs them...at a level of art that she gets!

      Delete
  16. Sorry for the “after hours” post again. I really appreciate everyone’s feedback last week. I have taken this week to sit back and truly think about my voice as a writer. I am making a point to try and show more not just tell. It is not an easy task, but I am finding my story is coming out a little easier. I either put myself in a character’s shoes or I become a fly on the wall painting actions and emotions I want my reader to see and feel. I love the topic this week of the “Why.” As my WIP starts to unfold, I have decided that Toby’s death will be a suicide due to a medical misdiagnoses. Lizzie will struggle with a number of unanswered whys throughout the text. She will question her own life and its worth, all while trying to understand and cope with her neighbor’s tragic death. Being asked to touch on the “why” today was a great way to end the week. I am reposting from Jo’s Monday Mini-lesson on making character’s real. I have revised it since its first posting, but I felt some of Lizzie’s why shows up here. Thanks again!!

    Opening my eyes I slowly rollover. Muscles aching from sleeping in my weekends-only twin bed. I scan the bedroom/office/comic book storage room. The corners of my mouth creep into a slight grin thinking about my mom psycho-analyzing my dad. She calls it his Peter Pan complex. As I make myself sit up in bed, I notice the smell of onions and maple syrup. The faint sounds of crinkling plastic bags and bi-fold doors opening and closing are coming from the kitchen. I roll my eyes. Dad has gotten Waffle House for breakfast and is doing his best to hide the evidence. My slight grin disappears. When is he going to realize that the gig is up? Eating out of a preformed plastic dish may have fooled me when I was six, but now... I sigh and come to the conclusion that my dad will always see me as six, there's that Peter Pan complex again. Just then he knocks on the door, "Lizzie? You awake?"
    "Yeah Dad. I'm awake. Smells good (first lie). I'll be out in a minute (second lie)."
    I wish I could tell him I don't want to get out of bed. I wish I could just bury myself into the mattress like Wile E. Coyote being consumed by the side of a mountain. Lying back down I close my eyes. Praying to the ACME gods to send down a giant anvil to crush me right then and there. Squeezing my eyes so tight tiny dots of floating lights start to appear. Thoughts try to round the corner of my one track mind. I don't want to go home. I don't want to hear the third degree about my weekend with dad or for God's sake my feelings. The dread of driving down my street. Seeing the house where it happened. The black hole reopens inside my abdomen. My tongue runs along the inside of my cheek searching for a spot that hasn't already been destroyed by my back teeth. I am being swallowed whole by despair and no one even knows. No one even cares. Was this how Toby felt?
    "Lizzie! Breakfast!"
    I gasp for air, saved by cold waffles.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's something about after hours posts that delight me. I guess it's because I love knowing that writers are visiting TW all the time...even after hours.

      Saved by cold waffles. Wonderful!

      The only thing that throws me a little is realizing that Dad will always see her as six. That's really advanced thinking....but maybe if her mom is a shrink she HAS advanced thinking.

      I love the Wilie E. Coyote reference. And the eyes squeezed shut.

      This poor kid is biting herself. Not cool....adds a layer of concern for me as a reader. This is good.

      Ok. I'm trying to find things to actually crit....and am coming up short. I'm just going to say bravo and keep going!

      Delete
    2. Hi, Rachel,

      Some really lovely writing in here -- the Wylie Coyote references, the waffles, etc. as Linda points out.

      I wonder if your writing uses more passive language in the early para because she is just waking up (intentional) or because you don't realize (unintentional). If the latter, it will help your writing to become aware. You use some much of the passive vs. active and i think your writing will fell more immediate if you choose to do so wisely and knowingly. Eg. here where you have three 'ing sentences in a row (and something starting to do something rather than just doing it, etc.):

      Lying back down I close my eyes. Praying to the ACME gods to send down a giant anvil to crush me right then and there. Squeezing my eyes so tight tiny dots of floating lights start to appear. Thoughts try to round the corner of my one track mind.

      See how your writing and the tone of your piece shift if you shift to active voice:

      I close my eyes and pray to the ACME gods to send down a giant anvil to crush me right then and there. I squeeze my eyes tighter until tiny dots of floating light appear. Thoughts try to round the corner of my one track mind. . .

      Great stuff. Food for thought. Keep writing!

      Delete
    3. And, yes, btw, then on reread of my flash edit, the repetition of "!. . ." sentences might bother you (me)... one of the hazards of writing in first person, especially. BUT then you would go in and determine if you need to further revise (why it takes 10 revisions sometimes to get language really right). But writing in passive voice vs. active is something all writers should be aware of...

      Always SO much work to be done. What we do. <3 :D

      Delete
    4. Hi Rachel,
      Thank you so much for sharing! I could really feel the contrast between your MC's despair and how she put on a different face for her dad, which came across as truly authentic. Great job!!!
      Also - yes to this!!! "I either put myself in a character’s shoes or I become a fly on the wall painting actions and emotions I want my reader to see and feel."

      I agree with Gae on the passive vs. active voice. Making the voice active will punch it up. :)

      Here are some questions to think about if you haven't done so already. (You don't necessarily have to add anything to this particular part, but keep in mind as you're going through your WIP):
      Why does Lizzie feel that she can't share what's going on with her father? Is his "Peter Pan" complex enough?
      Does her father know about her neighbor's tragic death? If so, then why doesn't he bring it up to talk to her about it? He obviously went out of his way to get waffles—he could have easily have given her cereal and milk. (The question is why waffles? What does it mean to them?) I know this might seem like a ridiculous question, but it was asked of me by my agent with the explanation that food if discussed should have a purpose, have muscle. It's tied to something like tradition. Dad's not lazy here... He actually cares enough to get her something special, otherwise it would have been cereal and milk, right? He may not be fooling her, but it's very sweet that he wants to go that extra step for his daughter, thoughtful?

      I hope this is helpful! The premise of your story is definitely intriguing and it'll be fascinating to see what happens. I'm cheering you on!

      Delete
  17. I believe I've been an after hours responder thelast two Fridays. I'm in the Midwest. What are the hours? My driving teen has radically adjusted my hours.

    I like the keeping your word theme here and the trust the girl has in a stranger that at first made me uncomfortable. I love the pictures in my head of this adventure swirling with sudden danger and questions but then an ending that ties it up with a lesson. I am wondering if this is a comment on our political candidates right now also. I would use this with upper elementary kids too to show how to develop a lesson or theme and to write a narrative.
    My piece is the first paragraphs from a collection of short stories I have about my boys. When they were boys. *sigh*

    Angels and Fairy Tales
    “Do angels drive?” his voice was quiet but the volume of his question shook me. I looked in the rearview mirror and caught his light brown eyes staring back at me, so innocent and trusting. So sure I knew all the answers. I wished his faith was contagious. I wished I knew I was not forever squashing his hope with truth.
    I concentrated on breathing through the sobs that were constantly bullying me. I now carried Visine in my purse to make the grief less obvious. My mind knew pulling over and sobbing would not be the right answer. Screaming, “ No, stop asking me. Stop making it real!” also would not help him to heal. I felt like a rubber band about to fly out of control into the world and be lost. And patiently he sat in the back seat, waiting silently for my answer, his fingers playing with his backpack straps. His five years had taught him to trust me, to ask me the questions he would not whisper to anyone else. His belief in me was certain as was his stillness in patience.
    The last three months had brought more silence to our home than I had ever known because it was not just an ordinary quiet but an absence of sound. My ears reverberated with its force, my mind missed the chaos, my heart ached for the joy we had once felt and my soul worried it was lost forever.

    ReplyDelete
  18. love "the volume of his question shook me" and "the absence of sound"
    I would love to see this excerpt in free verse form. There are gorgeous descriptions throughout.
    Your character is real to me.....too real. No one gives Mom time to grieve do they?
    If I had to find something to crit I'd have to be super critical....I'd "weed" words. ie. I wished his faith was contagious....I'd take out "was" and aim for a lyrical-ish tone. I think that could work in this piece.
    Driving teen. ha! Love the double entendre there. Yes, they change our hours and drive us to much...the edge, drink, crazy-love...the list goes on.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Diane,

      Linda is right. Your writing is lyrical and moving and even though Im not sure what is going on, i FEEL it in my gut and need to know. THIS is what writing is and is supposed to do. So, kudos. This feels authentic and real and urgent in the telling and the purging. A good thing.

      Linda is also right that, ultimately, as you revise, pulling out unnecessary words (her urge is always to go to free verse because she loves it (of course, I do too), and is likely a great exercise), but you can also do it just by getting adept at spotting and removing the excess or more passive language on revision.

      I'll do a super speed flash edit just so you can get a sense. This is to be illustrative and offer a rough sense... this is not to say this is exactly how it should be done:

      “Do angels drive?”
      His voice was quiet but the volume of his question shook me.
      I looked in the rearview mirror and caught his light brown eyes staring back at me, so innocent and trusting. So sure I knew all the answers.

      I wished his faith was contagious. I wished I knew I was not forever squashing his hope with truth.

      I concentrated on breathing through the sobs that constantly bullied me, wanting to retrieve the Visine I now carried in my purse to make the grief less obvious. Pulling over and sobbing would not be the right answer. Screaming, “No, stop asking me! Stop making it real!” also would not help him to heal. I was a rubber band about to fly out of control into the world and be lost. And, patiently, he sat in the back seat, waiting silently for my answer, his fingers playing with his backpack straps.

      His five years had taught him to trust me, to ask me the questions he would not whisper to anyone else. His belief in me was certain, as was his stillness in patience.
      The last three months had brought more silence to our home than I had ever known. Not just an ordinary quiet, but an absence of sound.

      My ears reverberated with its force, my mind missed the chaos, my heart ached for the joy we had once felt, and my soul worried it was lost forever.

      Just doing this quick exercise (you'll see that I've really touched very little) re affirms how extraordinary this little excerpt is, and those last lines really stand out and make me feel so deeply. Thank you for sharing this. Keep going.

      Delete
    2. Hi Diane,
      My mother's heart squeeeeezed from line one! My mind drifted to some of the worst nightmares any parent could ever face... Sob!

      You did an excellent job showing the contrast of why—the son's innocent faith, the mother wrapped in pain and questions.

      I love this line:
      His voice was quiet, but the volume of his question shook me.

      This line:
      "And, patiently, he sat in the back seat, waiting silently for my answer, his fingers playing with his backpack straps."

      Could you eliminate the word patiently? silently waiting implies patience, yes? Something to think about.

      One other suggestion that could help add a layer to your story: Root us in the setting. We know they're in the car, but where are they going? Why are they going there? Is this a first (major) outing after the tragedy? A quick trip to the grocery store? What type of road? Is she driving cautiously? The location/action also can have a huge impact on emotional triggers/mental state and obviously on "why."

      Hope this is helpful. And, since that hold on my heart needs a little relief, I'm sending an "I love you" text to my boys. Cheering you on!!!

      Delete
  19. Hi All,
    I'm going to respond to everyone now. Thanks for your patience!

    ReplyDelete
  20. Hi, Gae. I've hosted all day writing events on Fridays and had assignments due Saturdays the last two weeks, so I missed posting this on time. But I so love doing Friday Feedback with you, so I'm going to post anyway, although I know it may be too late for feedback.

    I love the activity of asking "why." A friend wrote an entire short story simply by asking why again and again, each answer lining up the deeper dive - it was great.

    Novel revisions I've done in the last 2 yrs were all about why, as I went deeper and deeper into character motivation. The more I answer that one question, the more authentically I understood the story & characters. This excerpt is one of the rough draft revisions -- I like the idea of it, but the writing's still rough.

    **

    His hand rose slightly as if in the formality of guiding a tour or leading a debutante. Slightly down and to the right, the stony end of a trail led back across the gardens and up the hill. Puzzled, she didn’t argue, but followed his lead, which made him bashful. Lift your eyes. Be belligerent, push back on me, set me straight. Her eyes, fragile birds, trailed the surface just before her feet.

    “It’s here,” he said. Flat hand pushing aside an overgrown bough. She smelled of citrus and something spicy, some flower, as she pushed under his arm and through a door not recently cut into the overgrown thicket of hedge.

    “A-ha!” she cried. He smiled to see her sorrowless smile, the one she would have had before any of life had scratched at her. “A secret room!”

    It was. Forgotten, but once special to someone: flat green mossy square, edged in filigrees of rose, four frenched fruit trees still clamped to their trellises, and bent, in the center, a concrete Venus, pouring water into the cracked sand of an aged basin. A wild hen quailed to chicks who lined up and trailed after her through a gap in the green wall.

    ReplyDelete