Inspiration Archives - Page 6 of 7

Writing Process Relativity

September 26, 2013 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

Last week I wrote about how time is relative. Specifically, I noted that I can accomplish about 4 times as much work in a child-free hour as a child-full hour. I’ve since noticed that the writing process itself is subject to the time-warping effects of relativity. Some parts fly past, some drag–even if they take exactly the same amount of real time.

I don’t do much in the way of outlining and prewriting (although I am trying to do a little more with my latest WIP), so that doesn’t take me too long. I think if I tried detailed outlining I would find the process tedious and draining, which I why I steer clear. While I admire the authors who can write a scene-by-scene outline, I just cannot get the passion for basically writing the book before I write the book. If I tried, that would be a part of the process that would seem to move at a snail’s pace for me.

Some writers say the first draft drags for them. For me, the first draft is fits and starts. Some days the words flow so fast I lose track of time, I am so immersed in the story. Other days the words don’t come and every time I look at the clock it seems the hands haven’t moved. But even though this is one of the physically longer time frames in the process, it does not move slowly for me. I tend to make steady progress, so I feel good about it.

The revision is where time relativity really can come into play. I find large-scale revisions such as moving scenes, deleting scenes, writing new scenes or new parts of scenes to move quickly. I have more of a big-picture brain, so I enjoy this part of the process a great deal. Probably why it seems to go quickly for me.

It’s the small-scale edits that drag for me. The typos and the grammar and the punctuation and the sentence-level structure. Grammar-type issues such as punctuation have never been my strong suit, and, although I am learning, it is still a struggle. The reading the book out loud edit always takes a long time, but it is completely necessary for me. One time I found that my global search-and-replace had failed to change my protagonist’s name in 4 different places. I never would have caught that without reading out loud. My mind, when reading silently, had inserted the correct name all the previous times I had read it–and I was on the 7th major revision at that point!

I don’t know about you, but when I get to the revision stage, I make a list of all the things I need to do. For a while, this list grows instead of shrinks, since often changing one thing will lead to more changes further downstream. Then the list seems to stall, as if I cannot check off anything no matter how hard I work. But then a miracle of relativity happens, and one day I look at my list and there’s only one or two things on it! I experienced that with the non-fiction genealogy project I am working on for my family. Just this weekend I looked at what had been a very long list, and realized I was on the second-to-last thing! What a thrilling moment to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

How about you? Which parts of the writing process fly for you, and which are like pulling teeth?

Renaissance: Reviving my Muse

August 8, 2013 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

I’ve written before about the creative slump I’ve been in since my child was born 3 years ago. All the long-form works I’ve put out since then have been projects I began before her birth. In most cases, the entire first draft had been done prior to her arrival.

Truthfully, the complete lack of creative drive and new ideas scared me. It felt like something inside me had died, and that’s a pretty permanent feeling. I had this secret fear that I would never have another idea for any other novel for the rest of my life. But I slogged along, hoping that somehow the spark would rekindle.

I did all I could to stoke the fire. I took workshops, I went to conferences, I blogged, I read, I began writing short stories, I hung out with really cool fellow writers. I kept writing—even if it wasn’t very good. Most of the time I felt like I was getting nowhere really, really fast.

But then a strange thing happened. I went to the 2013 Philadelphia Writer’s Conference—and came away with stirrings I hadn’t felt in close to 3 years. Whispers of the Muse. Sparks. Nothing concrete, but a sign that all hope was not lost.

The fire burst forth in full conflagration just a few weeks ago. I had a long day of driving ahead of me. Usually, I love this alone time and don’t even turn on the radio. With a curious 3-year-old around, quiet is something I rarely have, so I find solo drives soothing. But with over 4 hours on the road, I knew I wanted some music this time.

So I stocked the CD player with songs I hadn’t listened to in years—songs that have a strong writing connotation for me. Songs that evoke particular stories I’ve written, characters I’ve created, and worlds I’ve imagined. Songs that take me back to a time long before marriage and child, and even before adulthood. A time when creativity geysered out of my brain.

And a new novel was born.

By the time I got home, the characters, the world, the backstory—all of it—glowed there in my mind, longing to break free. I jotted notes and reveled in the whirling dance. Although I can’t jump in with both feet right now (trying to finish another project on a deadline), my shiny new object is waiting for me like a reward. Just knowing it is there makes me giddy.

This new novel has a long way to go before it becomes anything, but I have not been in this stage of creation for so long that I had forgotten the elation of it. While I am certain the sleep deprivation and motherhood will make my creative process less than smooth, I am once more standing at the start of a new adventure.

And it feels amazing.

Have you ever lost your writing mojo? How did you get it back?

The End of an Era: When Writing Mentors Move On

August 1, 2013 By Kerry Gans 9 Comments

You know that moment in Star Wars where Obi-Wan Kenobi gets killed and you freak out because Luke’s just lost his mentor and he still is nowhere near where he needs to be, training-wise? That’s kind of where I am right now.

In 2005, I met Jonathan Maberry, who had joined the now-closed Writer’s Room in Doylestown. From that moment on, he has built a wonderful society of writers in the Greater Philadelphia area. Now there is a thriving community, helmed by the Liars Club, that has workshops and networking meetings and just has a generally good time.

I have been a part of an ongoing workshop of Jonathan’s since 2006. Originally called Revise & Sell, it is now known as the Advanced Novel workshop. Basically, all of us in the workshop have novels in some stage of development (but beyond first draft) and are trying to get published. I was one of the original workshop members. Over the years, people have come and gone, but a core group has stayed rock-solid and bonded together. We critique each other’s work when asked. We offer a shoulder to cry on when needed. We discuss problems, both craft and business, that are standing in our way. A group of us formed The Author Chronicles group blog about 3 years ago. Several of us have had short stories published, and one member, Tiffany Schmidt, is now a published novelist with her second book coming out in February!

So when Jonathan told us he was moving to San Diego later this year, it was a bit wrenching—one of the main pillars of my writing life was disappearing. We had what is likely to be our last in-person class last week, which was a weird feeling of endings and beginnings all mixed into one.

Last in-person class. Photo courtesy of Tiffany Schmidt

But the thing is, just like Luke Skywalker, we aren’t really losing Jonathan at all. Technology today has made it possible for us to continue this workshop virtually, through Skype. I am looking forward to keeping up the forward momentum we have built together. Although conversing with a flickering, pixelated mentor is a little too sci-fi even for me! But maybe we’ll get lucky and the Force will be with all of us.

I wish Jonathan all the best in his new adventures out in California. The man is a force of nature; I have no doubt he will do well. And I’m glad that technology will allow us to stay in touch as a class, because I get quite an energy boost from our meetings—and I think there are good things ahead for all of us. I want to be there to cheer the others on and celebrate when they get their big break. We’ve all done the hard work—but it’s with Jonathan’s guidance that we’ve come as far as we have.

So, thank you, Jonathan. It’s the end of an era—but the beginning of a new one. I can’t wait to see what new opportunities the new era brings.

Have you ever had a writing mentor?

Newbery Picking

June 27, 2013 By Kerry Gans Leave a Comment

I decided as part of my continuing education in YA & children’s literature to read all the Newbery Award winners. The award has been given since 1922, so you can image the breadth of genre and writing styles encompassed by this list.

I’m nowhere near done the list, but I have been enjoying the adventure. I’m reading books I might not otherwise have picked up, and I can say that I have not been disappointed in any of them so far.

While I am enjoying them as a reader, I am also noting craft as a writer. I am always trying to improve my writing, so looking at how the best of the best wrote is a good education.

So far, three things have jumped out at me:

1) In the Chronicle of Prydain series, Lloyd Alexander wowed me with his ability to have each character sound so unique that I didn’t need to read the dialogue tags to know who was speaking. This is something I struggle with—making them sound different and making the difference sound natural. I have not been captivated by a series so completely in a long time, and Alexander’s characterizations were a large part of my enthrallment.

2) In Out of the Dust, Karen Hesse’s description of Dust Bowl Oklahoma blew me away. I could feel the dust smothering me, gritty in my eyes, mixed in my food. When I looked up from the book and out the window, the green grass and trees shocked me—I had almost expected dunes of dust. She wrote the novel in verse, so it is hardly surprising her descriptions are poetic, but I don’t think I have ever felt a novel so physically as this one. I have improved a lot in my description, but Hesse has set the new goalposts very high.

3) Finally, all of the books could tell a story well. Obviously. But to read book after book where the structure is so solid and complete is a great way to “feel” structure. Some books had many action scenes and a breath-taking pace. Others not much “happened,” and the pace was leisurely (but never plodding). But with every book I feel confident and sure as a reader, safe in a skilled author’s hands, trusting them to lead me to a satisfying ending. And they all have. I believe my story-telling ability is strong, and although in my early drafts the beginning and end don’t always connect cleanly in the middle, I get there by the time I’m through.

This is homework I enjoy doing, and I look forward to learning much more from the remainder of the list.

What books have you read that stand out for you as stellar examples of some part of our craft? (I’ll add them to my reading list!)

The First Step in My Writing Career: My “Ah-Ha!” Moment

June 20, 2013 By Kerry Gans 1 Comment

Like most writers, I never needed any encouragement to write. As long as I can remember, I wrote—from elementary school on up. But, also like most writers, there came a moment when I started to believe that I could write well. That maybe writing was a talent I had. Something special.

I think for many of us, this moment arrived when someone outside of our family told us we could write well. As important as familial validation is for a writer, they’re your family and therefore biased in your favor (hopefully). Even as a child I recognized this.

My “ah-ha!” moment came in eighth grade. I went to the local Catholic grade school, and one of my teachers was a nun, Sister Christopher. She herself was a creative and innovative teacher, skilled at bringing out the best in everyone in our class (a tall order, believe me!). So I suppose it was not unusual for her to recognize creativity in others.

We had to write a short story for class. Mine had the obnoxious title of “Drums Rolling In Triumph.” The story was about, of all things, a young woman who wanted to be a session drummer in the music industry—and succeeded. Why I wanted to write about this, I have no clue. But I did. And Sister Christopher told me it was very good and that I should continue writing.

I am sure that if I could re-read that work, I would find that it was pretty bad. Poorly written—enough to make me cringe. I know I did not wow her with my flawless prose or my poetic description. So what made her tell me to keep going?

My guess is passion. As badly written as I’m sure that story was, Sister Christopher sensed the passion I had for the craft. She may have also seen a natural storytelling ability—I’m sure the story arc was complete and solid, even if the writing was not.

I’m certain Sister Christopher would be surprised to hear that her simple words of encouragement meant so much to me. They gave me confidence in my writing, a sense that here was something I could do well. I think everyone needs something to call their own, something they feel they can do well. Something that they can make uniquely theirs, and that no one can take from them.

I have never forgotten how words so simple had such a profound impact on my life. Those words helped set me on the path that has led here. When speaking to a child (or even an adult), I try to remember that anything I say may change the way they see themselves or the world. That words, even casual words, have power.

Respect the power of your words. You may be changing the world without even knowing it.

How about you? Have you had a “moment” that set you on your career path? Or a seemingly trivial moment that changed your life?

My Biggest Takeaway: 2013 Philadelphia Writers’ Conference

June 13, 2013 By Kerry Gans 8 Comments

This year was my third year going to the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference. I have always enjoyed it, and always been psyched up by the energy of the writing community there. This year, though, there was a vibrancy above the energy levels of the past years.

Perhaps this reflects a change in me, but I don’t think so—others noticed it, too. I can’t say why it felt different—perhaps it was the near-capacity crowd, perhaps the mix of teachers. All I know is that I was even more jazzed than usual.

A common theme seemed to emerge in the workshops I took this year: the theme of how to present yourself to the world as an author. Cecily Kellogg talked about bloggers and their voices. Suzanne Kuhn spoke about presenting yourself professionally and consistently online. Jonathan Maberry and Keith Strunk’s Act Like A Writer was all about the “writer-persona” you need to build to present to the world. Even in Solomon Jones’ Novel: Character workshop, we worked on our writer bio. Why? Because that bio is the first character we create as writers.

How to be a professional writer. How to be engaging online without giving too much information. How to be accessible without becoming vulnerable. How to be a public figure without losing our most private selves.

A common theme—but not my biggest takeaway.

My biggest takeaway goes back to the vibrant energy of this conference. Ever since my daughter was born, I have been in something of a creative funk. I have been writing consistently, blogging, have turned out a handful of short stories, but all my novel-length work has been on projects begun and first-drafted prior to my daughter’s birth. That never-ending rush of ideas that most writers have dried up after she was born, and I have been feeling totally uncreative for more than three years now.

But at the conference something stirred. Something sparked. A fleeting glimpse into a new character, a new plot. A siren song—still far off, but audible. My creativity raised its head and blinked sleepy eyes at the world.

I am by no means back to where I was creatively. But my creativity is not dead, as I had feared. It’s still there.

And it’s waking up.

What was your biggest takeaway from the conference?

Gavin’s Trust Project: Building hope out of tragedy

May 16, 2013 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

Followers of my blog will no doubt remember last month’s sudden death of my friend’s 5-year-old son. Young Gavin had touched many people very deeply. He died on his mother’s birthday, and she asked that we do an act of kindness in his name—to which the Internet responded in breathtaking fashion. My friend Kate and her family also chose three charities to donate to in lieu of flowers, and again the response was enormous.

But the generosity of Kate Leong and her family did not end there.

You see, because Gavin was a special needs child, Kate learned a lot about advocacy. She saw the struggle to get things covered by medical insurance. She saw how much is NOT covered by medical insurance. She saw therapists who had to share equipment, which meant not every kid got the therapy equipment they needed every time. She saw schools making due with duct-taped communication devices because of underfunding for their programs. She saw so many people whose children did not have the advantages Gavin had simply because special needs ran head-on into financial need.

Once she saw, Kate could not unsee.

So this week, Kate unveiled Gavin’s Trust Project. She is raising money to donate to the Chester County Intermediate Unit (CCIU) for their Pre-School Multiple Disabilities programs—a group that did so much to help her son thrive and blossom, and yet are sorely underfunded. Kate knows that many families go without much-needed equipment at home because finances simply don’t allow it. CCIU can help with that—if they have the funds. Kate wants to help these other families and these wonderful therapists so that all the children they serve have the chance to reach their full potential.

Gavin’s Trust Project has already made its first tangible difference. With the astonishing amount of money left over from donations made to print Gavin’s memorial service programs, Gavin’s Trust Project has bought Gavin’s school classroom and school several pieces of equipment long on their wish list. More details of the project can be found here.

While Gavin may be gone, Gavin’s Trust Project builds a legacy in his name that will affect hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of children over time.

Please spread the word about this amazing project. That Gavin’s life was cut short is a tragedy; that his legacy will bring hope to so many is a miracle.

The Gavin Effect: A Tsunami of Kindness

April 25, 2013 By Kerry Gans 4 Comments

As a writer, I routinely place characters into situations where they are caught up in events larger than they are. It is rare in anyone’s real life to feel something similar—but I am feeling that way right now.

My friend Kate Leong’s 5-year-old son Gavin died last week. He was pronounced dead on Kate’s 43^rd birthday. But instead of screaming the heavens down with the unfairness of it all, Kate posted on her blog that for her birthday she would like anyone touched by Gavin’s life to do an act of kindness in his honor.

Boy, did people around the world respond.

Kate’s blog, Chasing Rainbows, has chronicled Gavin’s remarkable journey from babyhood. She has followers all around the world. Her request did not fall on deaf ears. Whether it was people like me who felt like Gavin was a part of our own family, or people who had found Kate’s blog for the first time and were moved by her generosity of spirit, acts of kindness rippled out from their epicenter—one small boy who never spoke a word.

I watched as the word spread through social media. I saw it hit other highly-popular blogs. I saw it make headlines on Huffington Post. I saw people sending Gavin’s story to the Ellen de Generes show. I read as people donated to charities, collected toys for children’s hospitals, made soup for local families in need, donated to hippotherapy or asked their local special needs teachers what they could do to help. The company who makes the popular communication software Speak For Yourself gave away 30 free apps in Gavin’s name. A jeweler named their new keepsake pendant “Kate’s Heart” in honor of the Leong family. A person kindly donated her talent to creating the program for Gavin’s funeral service, and so many people contributed money to help defray the cost of paying a printer that she ended up with well over $5,000 (anything not going to pay for the printing will be donated to the “in lieu of flowers” charities the Leong’s suggested). Everywhere I looked, people reached out to one another, to strangers—to help.

This tremendous wave of generosity, a tsunami of kindness, is something far more than any of us can comprehend at this moment. Certainly, the peak of the movement will fade as Gavin is laid to rest and people return to their normal lives, but this courageous little boy has reached out and changed us all permanently.

Some people will become organ donors who otherwise might not have. Some people who have begun helping organizations in his name will continue to do so out of their own newfound passion. Connections have been forged between people who might not otherwise have met. Any one of these things—EVERY one of these things—has the potential to change someone’s life.

We do not always know the results of the good that we do. Something that seems like nothing to us can have a deep impact on someone else. Even a small act of kindness on our part—an old iPad given to a school, a $5 donation to a cause—can be the thing that profoundly changes someone’s life. Any act of kindness might be the act that opens another person’s eyes, or becomes the helping hand a person needs to turn their life in a positive direction, or gives a child the freedom to reach their full potential. Any act of good we do can be the key to changing a life, and that life we change could be the key to changing the world.

Even after the initial tsunami of kindness fades, the effects we set in motion will continue. They will cascade and pass on from person to person. We may never fully grasp the impact Kate’s request and our response has upon this world.

But I know we made a difference and will continue to do so.

So to anyone out there who doubts that one person can change the world, I hold up the example of Gavin Leong.

One person CAN change the world—even if he’s only 5 1/2 years old.

The World Lost A Superhero: Farewell, Gavin

April 18, 2013 By Kerry Gans 9 Comments

On April 14, 2013, the world lost a superhero: Gavin Leong, age 5 ½.

Gavin had the biggest heart I ever saw, so it is the cruelest of ironies that his heart was what failed him in the end.

Gavin was special needs, but most of us would describe him with just the first word: special.

I never met Gavin in person, which shocked me when I realized it, because I felt like I had. His mother Kate has blogged about his amazing journey from the time he was born, and took us with him on her blog Chasing Rainbows. Kate and her family allowed us unprecedented access to their lives, sharing both their joy and heartbreak. But Gavin’s house wasn’t the house of a special needs child…it was a house of miracles.

Gavin’s parents were told when he was a newborn that his issues were so severe that they should just “keep him happy.”

But his parents saw more potential in their son than the doctors did.

After a long stay in the NICU after birth, Gavin was home barely a few weeks and he was back in the hospital for a two month stay, battling two illnesses that should have killed him.

Kate and Ed were told Gavin had permanent hearing loss as an infant—until the day the audiologist told them his hearing was normal and he no longer needed his hearing aids.

They were told Gavin would never eat without a feeding tube. He graduated to pureed foods and some solids.

They were told Gavin would never sit up. He started walking unassisted at Christmas 2012.

They were told Gavin would never communicate. Two days before his final illness, he independently and repeatedly sought out and pressed a button asking for water.

Gavin’s body may have been frail, but his spirit was not.

Gavin did everything in his own time in his own way. He faced his challenges with patience and courage, and even when crying in frustration he continued to fight. He never gave up, and his parents never stopped believing in him and his strength.

We were so privileged to experience it with him. At his preschool, Gavin had the goal of walking the equivalent of a 5K over the course of the school year. When he made his final lap, the entire preschool lined the halls to cheer for him. Gavin probably never knew that he had an entire Internet cheering section as well.

When Gavin needed the final miracle that never came, so many, many people prayed for him, rooted for him, and sent him positive thoughts. Many people displayed the Super-Gavin logo.*

Sometimes it seemed as if half my newsfeed had changed their profile pictures to Super Gavin. People who had never met him, never read Kate’s blogs, shared it on their walls and sent their support. This little boy who couldn’t talk touched the world, and taught us so much.

He taught his mother the power of hope and faith.

He taught his father the power of unconditional love.

He taught his little brother the power of compassion.

He taught me to celebrate the everyday triumphs of my daughter—to rejoice in her running around even when she exhausts me; to find joy in her constant talking and singing even when all I want is a moment of quiet; to be grateful for her health and her love even in the whirlwind of life.

The answer to why Gavin was taken from us so early will never be fully understood. But the answer to why he was placed on this earth in the first place is clear:

Gavin was given to us to teach us the power of persistence, of hope, and of love.

And the greatest of these is love.

Farewell, Gavin. You are now free of the body that failed you so often in this world. You can talk and run and play with your grandparents, your sister, your twin, and your other siblings who never made it to this world.

The world lost a superhero today—and Heaven gained an angel.

How Books Can Bridge the Polarized Communication Gap

February 21, 2013 By Kerry Gans Leave a Comment

I have become increasingly concerned about our inability to communicate across differences in America. People decide upon an opinion or stance and then stick to it no matter what facts come to light to show the contrary view is correct. It started in the political arena, but it has spread to the general population—this belief that if you change your mind based on new evidence you are somehow weak.

The view that it is a weakness to change your opinion or belief based on rational thought and evidence defies logic. It is not a sign of weakness, but of strength. Only a person who thinks independently can be willing to grow and change in their worldview, and only a person of strong character can graciously admit that they were wrong initially and changed their minds. The entire basis of the rational scientific process is based on this idea that a hypothesis is made based on current evidence, but can be revised when new evidence presents itself. That’s not weakness, that’s progress.

But people today seem afraid to even listen to the other side’s view—afraid that they might hear something to make them question their beliefs or opinions. It is a fact that people tend to listen to news sources and read articles that support their beliefs rather than challenge them. People remember the bits and pieces of an event that support what they believe and forget the rest. That seems to be the way people are wired, and no amount of shouting or data from the other side is going to change what they believe.

So how can this communication gap be crossed? If people will not listen to facts, if they will not listen at all to the other side, how can people be reached?

Experience. People don’t like their worldview threatened. But if they experience something that shakes them, they may see the world differently after that. We’ve all been through experiences in our lives that have profoundly changed us for better or worse. Job loss, personal loss, marriage, children. We change the way we think when we experience something emotionally.

This is where books come in. I am not talking about non-fiction books full of data, but novels. Good novels draw a reader in. They allow the reader to experience what life is like for the protagonist. When the reader finishes the book, a really good novel leaves them thinking about ideas and questions they hadn’t considered before. Most of us have read To Kill A Mockingbird in school, and most of the people I know count it as either a favorite book or as one that touched them deeply. We’ve all had books like that in our lives.

This is how the polarization can be neutralized. I think one reason people don’t want to change their mind is the fear that they will lose face by being “defeated” by their opponent. A book doesn’t have that social fear attached. If a book changes your mind, you can claim you came to the decision yourself—which you have—and not been coerced by the other side.

Thinking for oneself is the ultimate freedom. Our culture today seems to discourage that and just want everyone to accept sound bites and celebrity shenanigans as “important news.” Don’t fall for it. Talk to the people on the other side. Failing that, read about them. Read outside your normal zone, stretch your mind into corners of the world you never even knew existed. This is the strength of books—they empower you. This is why the first thing most totalitarian governments do is burn the books or limit access to them. Books are dangerous. They allow people to think for themselves. They allow people to experience a world outside the accepted dictatorship.

Books are freedom.

Be free.

Read.

What books have you read that changed the way you see the world?

Follow Me