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There is nothing “almost brave” about Jen White’s debut novel. Survival Strategies of the Almost Brave is big and bright and full of courage and heart. And there is nothing “almost brave” about Jen White–particularly when she talks about finding her way back from her “maybe place.” Her wise words resonate and offer light to us all as we struggle through our own murky worlds of maybe. It’s my pleasure to welcome on WRITE NOW, the lovely, and most certainly brave, Jen White.

Writing Through the Maybe Place

Last week, in the middle of the night, I was awakened by my three-year-old daughter; her small face inches from mine, her slight breath on my face. I felt her before I saw her.

“What’s wrong,” I asked.

“My mouth hurts,” she said.

I turned on the light to inspect the inside of her mouth. It looked normal. My husband woke. He gave her acetaminophen, thinking maybe she had a sore throat, and then put her back to bed. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard the pad of small steps across our bedroom floor and the familiar clink of the ring attached to her pacifier as she walked.

I sat up and called her name.

No response.

My husband said, “She’s asleep.”

“No,” I said. “She’s up.”

I called her name again. But the house remained silent. I got up and felt my way across the bedroom to check the bathroom, my closet, the hallway, the laundry room, her room…no three-year-old. And just as the worry started to rise in my chest, I saw her in the dark, crouched against the wall, wrapped in her blanket.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m hungry.”

It was one o’clock in the morning. And generally, with five children in the house, I say no to middle of the night mealtimes, and normally I would have put her back to bed, but….

Maybe it was the way she whispered, “Say yes, Mommy.” Or the way her eyes seemed almost too bright, too fully awake, that I let her lead me by the hand, the two of us like mirrored ghosts–one large and one small, down the dark stairway toward the kitchen.

A house is a different place in the early morning. It felt almost shrouded in a mist of fairy dust, like an unexpected secret. We stared at one another over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (her request any time of day when food is being offered).

She sat on the stool at the island, and ate her sandwich in silence–her eyes round and clear. The great window in our kitchen, which usually framed our backyard–grass, patio, trampoline, fireplace–was now gone, replaced with nothing but a deep, inky black.

“Where’d the park go?” she asked suddenly, a worried crinkle between her eyes.

“It’s outside,” I said.

She seemed to take that in, but stared into the dark night like she didn’t believe me.

“Where’s the beach? And Disneyland?”

“They’re outside,” I said, now understanding her concern. “They’re still there, even though you can’t see them. It’s just dark. The sun will be up tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Maybe,” she said.

I put her back into bed and then lay in my bed thinking about such a world where anything was possible. A three-year-old land where one day the beach existed and then in the next, maybe it didn’t. That world must seem like a gigantic vacuum, a precarious place without boundaries, but also with endless possibility. A maybe place.

I believe this place is also where writers live. We can’t always see where our art will take us, but it’s the endless possibility–the maybes–that keep us writing. Dan Santat said in his 2015 Caldecott Acceptance speech for his book Beekle, “’Maybe’ is a dangerous place to be, because it fills your mind with hope, and sometimes that can be an awful thing.” What are the hopes that keep you writing? I have thought a lot about hope as my first book, Survival Strategies of the Almost Brave, was published only mere months ago. With its release came the maybes.

Maybes like:

1) Maybe my book will bomb.

2) Maybe it will be great.

3) Maybe the publishing company will forget to publish it.

4) Maybe it will get a second run.

5) Maybe no one will read it.

6) Maybe someone will read it.

7) Maybe this will be the only book I ever write.

8) Maybe I’ll write ten more.

See. The maybes are dangerous. Each one of those thoughts were equally terrifying because with art there is no norm.  There is no equation that will give you what you think you want. There is no formula that tells you, “Hey, you’ve made it. You’re an expert now.”

As a writer, in the beginning, I only wanted to ease the anxiety in my chest. And that would only happen if, first: I was brave enough to let someone read my work. Then I wanted the reader to like it. Then I wanted a publisher to like it. Then I wanted a good house to publish my book. Then I wanted to publish another. After traversing through these steps, I noticed my anxiety about my writing never waned. Sometimes it grew quieter, but it never went away, because deep down I thought maybe I didn’t deserve success…but then other days, I thought maybe I did. As a writer, there is always glorious hope trapped between terrifying maybes.

Austin Kleon calls this the “imposter syndrome,” a very real thing, he says, that runs rampant in educated people (Steal Like an Artist). This is where we think at any moment someone will discover that we don’t really know what we’re doing; that we’re faking it. A side note: As a general rule, no artist really knows what they are doing. Art is almost always winging it, a doing of what feels right. As we create, we have hope that our current inspiration will be just that: inspired.

Steve Jobs said, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward, you can only connect them looking backwards.”  How true. You have to wade through the creative process and reach the end to finally realize the full potential of what you’ve done. Even then, there are no statistics. There is no crystal ball. You can do all the research in the world, but when it comes to creativity, you have to go with your gut. You must jump in and create without a map or guide. And then, once your creation is finished, the mere production of it has to be your reward. I can now say from a place of experience, regardless of what you produce, someone will love it and someone will hate it. And that outside opinion can’t affect your ability to continue to create art.

Jandy Nelson says in her book I’ll Give You the Sun, “We wish with our hands, that’s what we do as artists.” Perhaps it’s that desire, that wish for something better, which keeps us creating even within the throngs of doubts and maybes. It’s that expectation of what art can provide that keeps us pushing forward. We stare out through the window at the dark night and trust that what we wish for is still out there. We take a step forward, not knowing what it will bring. It’s this step by step procession that makes creating art so very gratifying. I’ve decided, the maybe place can be a beautiful place to live, as long as hope is its friendly neighbor.

Kelly Bennett is simply unforgettable. Known for her humor and her heart, Kelly’s books are bursting with both. Her picture book, Not Norman, A Goldfish Story–a favorite of my son’s–recently celebrated 10 years in print and was chosen for Jumpstart’s Read for the Record­© campaign. I’m tickled several shades of pink to host on WRITE NOW, my dear friend and Vermont College sister, the fabulous and fun Kelly Bennett.

Keep Your Head in the Game

Write now! That’s often easier to tell myself than to do. As of late, everything—even my own books—are getting in the way of my writing. My current excuse for not spending much time writing is Jumpstart’s 2015 Read for the Record© campaign. Just imagine it: On October 22^nd, 2015, my fishy picture book, Not Norman, A Goldfish Story, illustrated by Noah Z. Jones, being read by millions of adults and children on the same day! If enough people participate, it could be the largest shared reading experience in the whole world!

Truth is, I had absolutely not-one-thing to do with Not Norman, A Goldfish Story being chosen. That was all between the Jumpstart folks and Candlewick Press’s remarkable marketing team. First I heard of it, I was in Montpelier, Vermont slurping down a maple creamy (maple ice cream cone heaven) when my phone rang. Mary Lee Donavan from Candlewick Press was on the line. Mary Lee had never called me before. When I heard her voice, I was sure she was calling with bad news. (When a publisher/editor call comes, I always think it’s going to be bad news. Will that ever stop?) What I learned, and you might be interested to know, is that Read for the Record© is truly a joint effort between Jumpstart and the publishers. Among other things, Candlewick Press printed a special edition of Not Norman for Jumpstart to sell to raise funds to support its literacy efforts, as well as thousands of extra copies to donate to schools and libraries. I love my little fish Norman, so yes, I was worried. I could see millions of people registering to read the previous Jumpstart selections: Corduroy, Otis, The Snowy Day, Llama Llama Red Pajama, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Bunny Cakes, Lady Bug Girl and the Bug Squad, The Story of Ferdinand. They are HUGE Bestsellers by big name authors! Will millions of people register to read Not Norman on Oct. 22, 2015?

They will if I have anything to do with it!

From then to now and through Oct. 22, 2015, I am committed to spreading the word about Jumpstart, which means spending more time on marketing, traveling and school visits that I have writing. And while I’m at, I encourage everyone—you too!—to register to Read For The Record©. Here’s the link: www.readfortherecord.org.

But, what about my writing? In this whirl of marketing and promotion, sandwiched between swirls of family and friend time and holidays and grand parenting, how do keep my enthusiasm for works in progress? For that matter, how do I even remember who these characters are? Let alone recall what the heck they were doing or feeling or wanting when I last left them? How do I get my head back in the writing game?

With memory joggers.

I began creating memory joggers when my then writing partner, Ronnie Davidson, and I were working on Strangers in Black, a middle grade memoire of a boy living in Cambodia when the Khmer Rouge were in power. As Cambodia was both an unfamiliar and real place, we couldn’t “make up details as we went along.” So, I made a collage using photocopies of pictures we’d gathered while researching the story. We hung the collage over our work area so we could see it and refer to it while writing. It worked so well I’ve been creating WIP collages and other memory joggers ever since.

Memory collage for a current book

Here are my favorite memory joggers.

Playlists:

I create a playlist for each project. The playlist consists of a song or songs that bring to mind the feel or tone I want for that project and/or a song that encapsulates key character’s personalities or desires. For example, Not Norman’s playlist consisted of three songs: “All By Myself,” the main character’s anthem ; Norman’s Song is “People Let Me Tell You About My Best Friend”, aka The Theme from Courtship of Eddie’s Father; And Not Norman’s soundtrack, “Under the Sea” from Littlest Mermaid, of course. Yes, because it’s a fish song, and more because it’s punchy and livelyand I wanted Not Norman to be a snappy, faced-paced story.

Visual Gallery (This is a 2-parter):

First part is about getting my mind in the game by reminding myself who I want to enjoy my story. Sometimes my internal critic and external ones (reviewers, agent, editor, adults…) get between me and my best writing. I’ll find myself writing to please them, instead of writing to entertain children. To block them out and keep my intended audience in mind, I write each piece, whether it be a blog post, article or picture book manuscript, with a specific reader in mind. I have poster-sized photos of my children and grandchildren hanging on the wall in my office. They are my picture book audience!

Second part, I create collages for my stories from photocopied images collected while researching a project and/or magazines. These includes landscapes, places, clothing, and pictures of specific characters. I post the collage on the wall so I can see it while I’m writing.

Flap Copy:

I write a one-line explanation of my story (Call it what you will: Log Line, Elevator Pitch, Catalogue Copy) and post it at the top of the manuscript where I can read it each time I open the file. Here’s Not Norman’s: “A boy wants a pet more than anything in the world, but when he finally gets one, it’s not the kind of pet he wanted at all.”

 Modeling (Or as I like to think of it, use envy for good):

For each project, I find a book that has the feel, the flow, the pacing, the style of writing I want-wish-strive for in my story. Once I find “The Book” I keep it at hand and read a passage or two each time I sit down to write. For Not Norman the book was When Ira Sleeps Over by Bernard Waber.

What’s best about these memory joggers is that by using music, visuals and tactiles to create them, the right-side of the brain and subconscious are working too—maybe even when we think our heads are in other games!

Kelly Bennett is the author of many books for children—mostly picture books. Her stories, such as Vampire Baby; Your Daddy Was Just Like You and Your Mommy Was Just Like You; Dance, Y’all, Dance; Dad and Pop; One Day I Went Rambling, and Jumpstart’s 2015 Read for the Record© book, Not Norman, A Goldfish Story, celebrate imagination, families, friends, pets… all that goes into being a kid! Kelly divides her time between Trinidad & Tobago, Westhampton Beach, New York and Grandmaville (which is anywhere those Grand boys are!). She’s busy creating lovely spaces and new stories!

GIVEAWAY! How fortunate we are that Kelly is offering signed copies of her book, Not Norman, A Goldfish Story, to 3 lucky winners! Just comment on the post and register to Read for the Record at Jumpstart for a chance to win! Click here to register.

When JaNay Brown-Wood and I met as co-recipients of the NAESP Book Award, I was immediately drawn to her warmth and enthusiasm. Her beautiful debut picture book, Imani’s Moon, with gorgeous illustrations by Hazel Mitchell, encourages young children to believe in themselves, through its delightful and determined heroine, Imani. It’s my absolute pleasure to host on WRITE NOW the enchanting and very talented, JaNay Brown-Wood.

My Process as a Metaphor

Do you know what writing is like for me?

I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. I can see the rock beneath my tennis shoes, solid and sturdy; small loose pebbles fall away as I shift my feet, making soft crackles as they fall down the cliff side. I don’t look behind me because that doesn’t matter so much—what’s done is done and the past has already happened.

But I do look down. Past the cliff’s edge. And what I see as I peer over is…nothing. Nothing. It’s like a blinding white abyss of nothing. But that’s okay. Because I’m prepared. I’ve got what I need and more. On my back I’ve got an oxygen tank strapped on beneath a survival backpack that’s got a parachute attached. I’ve got sunblock on and goggles. First-aid kit. Water bottle.

My heart slams around in my chest and beads of sweat accumulate on my brow. My mouth is dry with anticipation. I’m ready.

I step to the very tip of the cliff and stare down into the schism. And I jump, diving down into it. And as I fall downward, the details begin forming.

Specifics materialize on all sides of me. Like yesterday, when I jumped, fluffy cumulus clouds appeared among bright blue sky and patches of green and brown fields grew in size below as I neared them. And on my back, I had glider wings and my parachute–all the other things that I didn’t need had disappeared.

And the day before that, when I jumped, I hit temperate water, diving down through the ocean’s depths. Past jellyfish and blue whales and coral reefs. My tank was in place, oxygen filled my lungs, and I took in the beauty.

This is what it’s like for me when I write. My process. I have an idea of where I’m going, sometimes more clearly than other times. And I feel confident in my abilities to make something happen on that blank page. Then I let my imagination go, let it take me wherever it needs to, allowing my fingers to trap it on the page.

And often it feels like a risk. Often, thoughts creep into my mind like “what if this scene doesn’t work” or “what if my character isn’t believable?” or “what will the critics say?” But, I try to quiet that with the wind or water rushing past me as I fall into my story. I’ll figure all that out when I’m editing. But for now, just write. Just write. Just keep writing.

“….story of determination tinged with magical realism.” –School Library Journal

That’s the most important part of all of this: Just. Keep. Writing. Even if you feel as if the risk of spilling your thoughts for others to read seems scary and daunting. Just keep writing. Even if you’re not sure if you’ll even use this scene in your final draft. Just keep writing. Even if there are sharks in the water or a tear in your parachute. Don’t worry, just keep writing.

Someone once said “you can’t edit a blank page.” That stuck with me. If you want to make this happen: Just keep writing.

Your process will come. And the more you do it, the more likely it will be that your dreams will become real too. Book publications. Agents. Huge deals. Adoring readers. The works!

But none of that can happen if you don’t write.

So what are you waiting for? Go on.

Write!

JaNay Brown-Wood is a children’s author and educator. Through the years, JaNay has been a performer, preschool teacher, camp counselor, poet, silly-song singer, youth specialist, designer of curriculum, Harry Potter lover, reader, jellybean eater, and someone who truly cares about our future generations. Currently, she works as an Early Childhood Education professor at American River College.

Her first picture book Imani’s Moon is the winner of the NAESP Children’s Book of the Year Award, is a Northern CA ACL 2014 Distinguished Book, as well as a Reading Is Fundamental (RIF) Multicultural Book pick for 2015. It has also been turned into an audiobook through Live Oak Media. JaNay has also had poems featured in Highlights for Kids and Highlights High Five. Keep an eye out for her second picture book “Grandma’s Tiny House” (Charlesbridge Publishing) inspired by her family’s holiday gatherings.

GIVEAWAY! We’re so excited that JaNay is offering an autographed copy of her wonderful book, Imani’s Moon. Comment on the post for a chance to win!

To learn more about JaNay:

Visit her website at www.janaybrownwood.com

Like her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janaybrownwood

Follow her on twitter: @janaybrownwood

Or shoot her an email to say “HI!” janay@janaybrownwood.com

Erin E. Moulton knows sisterhood–its presence shines in her novels. It’s woven throughout her newest release, Keepers of the Labyrinth, with mystery, mythology and a touch of magic. Erin knows magic, too–not just the enchanted kind, but the kind that connects us to one another. It’s her deep understanding of what binds us together, and what makes us human, that renders her characters and their stories so irresistable. I’m proud to host on WRITE NOW, and even more honored to be a part of her circle of writing sisters, the inspiring and most fabulous, Erin E. Moulton.

Keepers of the Labyrinth and the Spectrum of Femininity

Keepers of the Labyrinth is a mystery adventure set in present day Crete that has an ancient backstory of a secret sisterhood that dates back to the Minoans. At its very root, it is a story of sisters in an ancient secret society, a story of sisters with secrets shared and kept. A story of sisters protecting something universally sought after. Only they know how to keep it safe. It has been their duty since the beginning.

It’s my third, or if you’re really digging, my fourth book, that showcases strong sister and girlfriend relationships. It’s my fourth book and happens to have a primarily female cast of characters. Why? Femininity–and my relationship to it– has never been an easy thing for me to understand. Or perhaps I just have always struggled with what it means to be a girl. When you grow up with three sisters, there is no brother to compare yourself to, so you are just a girl, among girls. Be as you are. We fought, fist over teeth. We hugged and cuddled on the couch like a pack of pups. We literally bathed in the mud and climbed trees and skinned our knees. We jumped off rocks, dug up artifacts, hunted for frogs and salamanders in our front yard. We made up stories and read books and wrote books. We slayed dragons and laid in lagoons. We were girls, but often called tomboys because we were rough and tumble and played in the dirt and forest. Tomboy was like a badge of honor. You’re a girl, but you’re like a boy. It was seen as a step up.

To this day, I struggle with understanding femininity and my place in it. Am I not being feminine enough? Am I being too feminine? What does it mean to be feminine?

Well, by definition: having qualities traditionally ascribed to women, as sensitivity or gentleness. That’s nice, isn’t it? Sensitivity and gentleness. But it’s a bit narrow of a definition if I ever saw one. Having worked at the public library, I can tell you right now that some women start the day like they ate nails and turpentine. Gentle sensitive must be for the gentrified? Where are these gentle ladies you speak of, Webster? It just, simply, doesn’t cover the large spectrum of personality that femininity entails, today. Just as masculine doesn’t sum up what men are: having qualities traditionally ascribed to men, such as strength and boldness. I’ve known strong and bold women, and sensitive and gentle men. (I love that about people–our compulsion to create categories and try to define ourselves and then, by nature, defy our definitions.)

So, what is femininity? I happen to know a lot of women. I come from sisters, you see. Sisters by both blood and bond. To me, when femininity is defined by life and not by definition, it looks something like this:

My first sisters were my blood sisters. Amber, oldest, wisest and the one with a smart shadow that threatened to crush me if I attempted to follow her path. My younger sister, Casey, the strong, bull-headed athlete, is small but fierce, and she tackled people more easily than homework. Moie, the youngest and tallest was always loving, lanky and beaming…most of the time. Put on a happy face and everything will be ok, right?

My other sisters came swiftly on the heels of my blood sisters. Kim, pretty like a princess and able to sing like a nightingale, but funny as hell. Then there was Sam, quiet, realistic, unsure of me and my ability to fight dragons on the playground. But somehow, she was patient and accepting of other’s oddities even though they didn’t make sense to her. Later, Tristan–a mother since she was born, perhaps–sharp, inventive, but could call you out with the language of a sailor and was able to freeze people with a single stare.

Later still, sisters in the theater, hanging from scaff and A-Frames with biceps hooked like c-clamps, and just as sturdy. Theater sisters were always leading-Stage Manager, Master Electrician, Props Master. Master of the scaffolds and galleys in the wee hours of the morning. Theater sisters are nocturnal, you see.

And then even more sisters when I disappeared to writing school. Sisters with pens and paper and heart. Some sisters armed with dancing. Some sisters armed with advice. Some sisters armed with Lysol. Sisters with words and sisters with tears. All different. Grey and gold and serious and silly. Demanding and smart and visionary.

And finally, today, library sisters. Even among women in the same trade, the personalities abound. Serious and conservative, liberal and artistic, hurrying and scurrying. Laid back and plodding. Sisters who break down walls, set up tables. Sisters who love Nascar. Sisters who love crafting. Sisters who love kickboxing, sisters who love quilting. Sisters who love nonfiction. Sisters who love comic books. Sisters who create websites and haul donations. Sisters who deal with a wide variety of needs and neediness, sweet tempers and sour ones. Firm sisters, bold sisters, wild sisters, quiet sisters.

Sisters

You see, what I understand about femininity is that it is as varied as a box of Crayola crayons. There is simply no black and white. No category that could possibly fit the capacity of the gender. Femininity is unfurled, uncaught, and unrestricted (so is masculinity). The beauty of writing a cast that is so abundantly female is just like living and being around so many women. I have soldiers and artists, engineers and bookish ladies. Ladies that some people mention they keep picturing as boys, but the truth is, they’re girls. They’re not tomboys. They’re not girlie girls. They’re just, straight up, girls. This is reality, as I see it. Should the definition change to fit reality, or should reality bend to the definition? I think we’re more complex than that.

In the mostly female world of Keepers, I wanted to stretch and see if I could hit more of the glorious personalities along the spectrum that encompasses femininity. And so that, perhaps, I might identify with it a bit more—and perhaps others will, too? I hope I was able to harness what I love about women and put it in the book. And that is simply that they can be sensitive and gentle. But they can also be strong and bold. They can be everything in between.

Min Zeis Aplos. Zeis Tolmira.

What attributes do you love about the women in your life? Share with #KeeperSis

Erin E. Moulton graduated with an MFA in Writing for Children from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. She is the author of Flutter: The Story of Four Sisters and One Incredible Journey, Tracing Stars and Chasing the Milky Way, as well as the new YA, Keepers of the Labyrinth. She lives in Southern New Hampshire with her husband, unruly dogs and son. You can visit her online at www.erinemoulton.com or on twitter @erinemoulton.

GIVEAWAY! We’re so excited that Erin is offering a copy of her thrilling new book, Keepers of the Labyrinth, plus super cool book swag! Just comment on the post for a chance to win!

Super cool book swag

To meet Nancy Bo Flood is to be put immediately at ease by her calm and gentle manner, as well as her kindness. All of this is evident in her writing–along with the richness of her storytelling and her evocative and lyrical language. In Nancy’s newest book, Water Runs Through This Book, she writes of water–both ubiquitous and oft taken for granted–and creates a sympathetic character out of that most life-sustaining of nature’s gifts. It is my absolute pleasure to host on WRITE NOW, the lovely and talented, Nancy Bo Flood.

The Pueblo people of the desert say,

“Water speaks to water.”

We are water. In this information book, my main character is water. The challenge given to me by iUtah* was to write a middle-grade book that students would want to read – and keep reading – a page-turner. The challenge I gave to myself was to create a character as complex and interesting – even surprising – as any character in a novel with problems to solve and with a heart. I wanted my reader to not only learn about water, but also to care about water, to feel a sense of wonder and also a sense of concern.

I began with developing identity. A character in a book becomes real, becomes someone the reader cares about, when the reader identifies with the character.

So I began: “You are water. Even your bones. Your brain is mostly water – eight out of every ten molecules in your head are water. Water runs through our bodies, brings food and oxygen to our cells, and allows us to breathe, sweat, stand up, and move. Then water cleans up, taking away what pollutes and poisons.

Call of the sea, come get me…

Next I wanted to develop surprise, amazement, and even wonder. Did you know that when we cry, our tears contain hormones and minerals that are part of healing? Flamingoes cry. Their tears contain salt. Flamingos are one of the few land creatures that can drink salt water and live.

Did you know that the water we drink is as old as the dinosaurs? Or that astronomers search the universe for signs of water because where there is water, there can be life? But we are polluting and destroying this precious resource.

Can clean, drinkable water become extinct?

Identification, engagement, information, caring … and then, my last goal was to suggest simple ways every one of us can conserve and protect water. If we understand the importance of water and feel the beauty of water, how can we not care about water?

Water is beauty

“The Navajo people share this story: Earth fell in love with Sky, and Sky with Earth. There was such joy! Their happiness filled the clouds with laughing, splashing rain.

And in the end, perhaps beauty is water’s deepest mystery.

And so, thank you, for listening, reading, and thinking about water….”

                 “Water talking with water.”

* grant support from Utah State University, the National Science Foundation, and iUtah, a water education and research consortium, with publication by Fulcrum Publishers

Water Runs Through This Book by Nancy Bo Flood with photographs by Jan Sonnenmair, is a multi-genre (narration, poetry, plus photographs) exploration of one of life’s essential ingredients, water.

Nancy Bo Flood’s previous books include the award-winning WARRIORS IN THE CROSSFIRE and  COWBOY UP! RIDE THE NAVAJO RODEO. Nancy is a graduate of the Vermont College of Fine Arts and has worked as a teacher, counselor, researcher, and writer, in settings as diverse as Malawi, Hawaii, Japan, Saipan, and most recently, the Navajo Nation in northern Arizona where water is precious.

GIVEAWAY! How fortunate we are that Nancy is offering copies of her book, Water Runs Through This Book, to 5 lucky winners! Just comment on the post for a chance to win!

It was a privilege to be entrusted with early drafts of Sarah Tomp’s wonderful debut novel, My Best Everything. I fell in love with Sarah’s lyrical language and lush world-building. I adored her flawed but courageous Lulu and wished more than anything she’d find her heart’s desire. It was a true pleasure to watch My Best Everything grow into the beautiful and compelling story it is today. I’m honored to host on WRITE NOW, my dear friend, the fabulous and eloquent, Sarah Tomp.

SAVED BY THE CAT

I was saved by the cat. Or, more specifically, Blake Snyder’s three book series on screenwriting, which begins with SAVE THE CAT!

When I was writing an early draft of the story that became the YA novel, My Best Everything, I had pages and pages of Lulu falling in love with Mason. I had oodles of scenes… but no story.

I didn’t have a plot.

As someone who reads for character and voice, I didn’t fully understand story plotting. I thought trying to make the scenes fit into a particular structure would lead to formulaic writing. I wanted to be surprising and unpredictable.

Then, finally, thankfully, brilliant Blake helped me to see that structure is like a cake pan. The originality, the creativity, the particular essence of my story would be created in the details—the ingredients. I could make my own cake and decorate it any way I wanted. But if I didn’t have a pan, I’d only have a mess. I was able to use his 15 story beats to help shape my story. All of a sudden, the scenes added up to something more. One thing led to another. In other words, I had a plot!

But, because I still read for character and voice, and write novels instead of screenplays, what I love most about the SAVE THE CAT! is the attention given to creating complex characters. I think the following key questions go a long way in ensuring characters are complicated and interesting.

“A wholly original and most satisfying debut.” -School Library Journal

Blake Snyder’s Five Questions:

•  WHO IS THE HERO?

Readers want to identify with the hero, and learn something from him/her. He/She doesn’t need to be perfect, or even entirely likeable, but there needs to be some kind of compelling reason to follow the hero.

My hero is Lulu Mendez, a self-professed good girl who has spent her high school years working hard and saying no to boys and drinking. She’s a little bit feisty and a whole lot stubborn. She is confident and sure she knows right from wrong.

•  WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?

Blake suggests each hero have six things that need fixing. The more things that are wrong in a character’s life, the more room he/she has to grow. If you’re having trouble thinking of problems, think of a character’s life at home, work, and play. “Work” can be any kind of obligation—for young readers this might be school, or even a role within a family or team. Often, these challenges intersect and overlap, and are ideally a result from the character’s deepest desire—and need, which may or may not be the same thing.

Lulu has plenty of problems. Her mother is agoraphobic and her father travels extensively; so she doesn’t know how to drive, leaving her to beg rides and/or walk. She’s working in a junkyard which is not the future she has in mind. She adores her best friend, Roni, but they are at odds over their different ideas for the future. Her Catholic belief is based on following rules more than any kind of spiritual idea. She doesn’t believe in romantic love and she’s a control freak who is losing control.

• HOW DOES THE HERO BEGIN THIS STORY AND HOW DOES HE END UP?

In other words, a character needs to change. Blake calls a story “The Transformation Machine.” We read to watch a character grow and change. But we need to feel as though we can root for him/her. A character’s challenges need to be difficult, not impossible to overcome.

Over the course of this story, Lulu goes from good girl who always says no, to moonshiner/bootlegger. She breaks the law and plenty of rules—including her own. She questions just about everything she thought she ever believed in.

• WHAT’S YOUR HERO’S GOAL?

Think of your character’s goals in terms of tangible: the measurable concrete wants and spiritual: his/her abstract emotional need. They are often not the same thing.

Lulu wants to get out of her small Virginia hometown in order to go to college. When her father loses her tuition money, she wants to earn enough money—ASAP—to pay her own way. But she needs to learn about love, and to realize there is more than one right way to live. Our choices are not always our own—sometimes fate decides things for us.

• WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

This is the theme of your story. Which, for me, sometimes has to be explained by someone else. And for many writers, it’s not something that’s entirely clear until you’ve finished writing the story. I also think it’s something that readers find on their own.

When I started writing My Best Everything, I wanted to explore the idea of fate/destiny vs free will and how we each interpret moments in life. Along the way it became about second chances and re-creating one’s self-identity. I think it’s also about working hard for what you want, and facing life’s disappointments. And love. It’s about all kinds of love.

Sarah Tomp lives in San Diego with her family. She has a MFA in writing for children and young adults from VCFA. She teaches writing for UCSD Extension. You can visit her at www.sarahtomp.com and follow her on Twitter @swtomp.

I was fortunate years ago, to read passages from an early draft of Tamara Ellis Smith’s brilliant debut novel, Another Kind of Hurricane. Even then, it was the kind of story that stayed with you. That got inside you and made you wonder. That made you dream. Made you believe.  What a joy for all of us that Another Kind of Hurricane makes its way into the world this month. I’m honored to host on the inaugural post of WRITE NOW…my friend, the lovely and very talented, Tamara Ellis Smith.

More Like a Bull Than a Butterfly

I was a creative kid. I wrote in journals, I wrote poems, I wrote plays, I made clothes, I cooked. I was able to do lots of things. (See the previous sentence!) People always commented on this, in fact. They said I could do anything I put my mind to. (And they pointed to all of those things in that darned sentence!)

But here’s the important part of what they said: anything I put my mind to.

And this wasn’t true.

There were plenty of things I placed my mind upon that I was not able to do. A list a mile long, in fact. But nobody knew that because I tried them all for less than a minute – enough time to recognize that they wouldn’t come easily but not enough time for people to notice that I had even tried. A butterfly landing on a fence post and then flying away again in the blink of an eye.

I was not patient. This is part of why I didn’t try these things for too long. In fact, I was almost allergic to patience. Truly. If something was hard to do, then I got all itchy and breathed heavy like a dog on a hot day. If I couldn’t figure something out quickly, then I believed it wasn’t worth doing.

Or I made myself believe that.

Because the truth is that while, yes, I was an impatient kid, I was more of a scared kid. Scared to take a risk. Scared to leave my comfort zone. Scared to try something that was hard to do, because I might fail.

I spent a long time like this.

There wasn’t an exact moment when I finally faced this fear. It came in bits and pieces. I needed a way to de-stress and so I began a very long process of learning how to be a runner. I wanted to be a better parent and so I began the very long process of learning how to nurture. And one summer—ten years ago—I wanted to tell the story of two boys during Hurricane Katrina and so I began the very long process of writing a novel. And—

“A hurricane, a tragic death, two boys, one marble. How they intertwine is at the heart of this beautiful, poignant book.”

Ten years, two major rewrites and about twenty-five drafts later, Another Kind of Hurricane was born.

Facing the fear that I couldn’t write a novel meant changing my relationship with patience. (I needed it to be a friendly one, because I was going to be using it a lot!) But it was my relationship with longing that made the biggest difference in getting my novel done. While I had always had a terrible relationship with patience, I had no relationship with longing. I had consistently and successfully pushed it aside. Finally—after all of these years—I was honest with myself about what I deeply longed for. I let that longing sit with me, day after day, through mistakes and critiques and rejections and epiphanies and writing spurts and writer’s block. And—

Ten years, two major rewrites and about twenty-five drafts later, Another Kind of Hurricane was born.

This is what I believe and this is what I urge:

• It’s a good idea to find something to be grateful for, and focus on it.
• Find out what you love and do it – even if it means hard work, making mistakes and not getting it right the first time…or the fifth time…or the fiftieth time. Especially if it means all of that.
• Be patient.
• Be less like a butterfly and more like a bull.
• Take a deep breath.
• Find a friend. Ask her or him to tell you that you can do it. And then try again.

Helping New Orleans:

lowernine.org is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the long-term recovery of the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, Louisiana in the wake of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, and the levee breaches of 2005. lowernine.org is working to bring home more Lower Ninth Ward families than any other single organization.

A portion of the profits from the sale of Another Kind of Hurricane goes directly to lowernine.org.

Big Class is a nonprofit organization dedicated to cultivating and supporting the voices of New Orleans’ writers ages 6-18 through creative collaborations with schools and communities. Big Class offers a variety of free, innovative programs that provide under-resourced students with opportunities to explore their creativity and improve their writing skills.

Readers all over the country are donating copies of Another Kind of Hurricane—as well as other vital books—to Big Class, getting meaningful stories directly into the hands of the community they represent.

Information about both of these organizations—and how you can help—can be found at www.tamaraellissmith.com.

Tamara Ellis Smith earned her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. She lives in Richmond, Vermont, with her family. This is her first novel. Visit her on the Web at tamaraellissmith.com.