Unlikable Characters: My Take on Craig Mazin's Take

I recently subscribed to yet another podcast, Scriptnotes, which describes itself as a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

If you've followed me on social media or here on my blog for any amount of time, you know that I'm not a screenwriter. (The screenplay I wrote with my high school friend Sam doesn't count, but it sure was fun and a great learning experience.) I'm a fiction writer. I primarily write novels and novellas. Yet I love this podcast and recommend it to writers of all kinds.

Scriptnotes is hosted by Hollywood screenwriters John August and Craig Mazin. After listening to a few episodes, you can't help but like these guys, even if Craig is full of umbrage (and disdain for religion).

Episode 223, from November 10, had a section about the least helpful notes screenwriters get. Turns out that Craig's least favorite (read: most despised) note is to be told that his characters aren't likable.

Craig argues that movies are filled with characters we don't like, and that characters are supposed to change anyway, so it's okay if we don't like them at first. Plus, we like curmudgeons! Unlikable quirks can make a character more interesting anyway. So stop telling us to make our characters more likable! (Totally paraphrasing here. Listen to his rant; your mileage may vary.)

And he has a point . . . to a point.

He's right that flawed and/or curmudgeonly characters are interesting. We enjoy watching characters like that, while characters who seem too perfect feel flat or fake. Even if we don't like a character, we'll hang on to watch more because we're entertained. We often start liking them as the movie progresses.

Besides, a movie is only a couple of hours long, and chances are, you paid to see this show, so you'll probably stick it out to the closing credits to see how it all turns out anyway.

In other words, Craig's advice clearly works for screenwriting.

Alas, that wisdom doesn't carry over into formats like the novel. I've learned this the hard way. Over and over and over again.

Consider this: A novel takes much longer to read than a movie takes to watch. While some people can devour a novel in a day, most readers read a chapter or two here or there, often before bed. They end up spending days if not weeks or more with the same book.

As the author, you don't have the luxury of assuming the reader will hang on until the character is sympathetic, or that the reader will trust you at all to go beyond the first page or two, that eventually, they'll see that they were in good hands all along. (An exception exists for really big names, who can pretty much break every rule and still sell millions because their name is a trusted brand before word one.)

With novels, readers may well toss a book aside if they hate the characters after a few minutes of reading. Not so with a few minutes of a movie. Readers simply won't devote hours and hours (or days) of their lives to your story. No way. They'd rather re-watch their most hated movie and get it over with in two hours or so.

That said, readers don't want perfect characters either. They want flaws and they want growth, just like moviegoers do. (Two groups with a ton of crossover, of course.)

The result is that fiction writers face a double challenge: Create characters who are human and flawed but still likable enough for the reader to hang on and care enough to keep reading, and make all of that happen on page one.

Oh, and be sure to open at precisely the right moment. Starting a even a few minutes (or, heck, seconds) earlier or later in story time could kill the opening.

No pressure or anything.

If you've hooked your readers with the opening, they'll likely turn the page. If you've managed to carry them to the 25% mark, they've invested enough time that you've got a good shot at carrying them to the end even if the characters start making really unlikable choices. Which they often do, of course.

To get to the point where you've earned a reader's trust, you must somehow get them pretty far into the story. And you get a page or two to hook them initially. That's it.

For me, one of the biggest challenges I've faced is beta readers and critique group members telling me that they hate the main character because she's acting so mean or hateful or whatever. And then I sit back and wonder where they got that from, because in most cases, that's not how I meant to write the character at all. I unravel what made it to the page compared to what was in my head in an effort to figure out what's missing and how to get it to the page.

But in some cases, I did mean to show the main character in a harsher light, although I still hoped the reader would sympathize. In one case in particular, the main character has been through a lot of raw, bitter stuff. The book opens with her being angry and upset. She has open emotional wounds. To make a long story short, I needed to open the book at a certain point in her life, show X, Y, and Z, and then get out of that situation, all by the end of chapter one.

Turns out that "wounded" is really hard to write without coming across as witchy (keeping the blog family friendly . . ). I must have rewritten that chapter fifteen times. In each version, she felt weaker and weaker to me because I had to keep softening her edges. But readers were slowly starting to connect with her.

Even though I wanted to show her realistically angry and pissed off in chapter one, I couldn't. Readers had no way of knowing enough about her at that point to have any kind of sympathy for her. You read vitriol and assume the character is a pretty awful person. So anger and even depression in that context only made her look bad.

My theory is that closing a book after two pages and tossing it to the side is far easier than standing up and walking out of a movie theater two minutes into a film, when you haven't even seen the opening credits. No one walks out that early, and few people walk out ever.

Lots and lots of people give up on books, though.

I could have left the chapter as it was, I suppose, but I can guarantee that by doing so, I would have lost a lot of readers in short order. They wouldn't have held on until they sympathized or even empathized with her.

I've been writing for a very long time (writing seriously for over two decades now), so when I first heard Craig saying that this particular note was pure crap, I wanted to cheer. Oh, how I wanted to. But I couldn't, because for a fiction writer, his opinion doesn't apply. (I wish!)

Sometimes I think I've learned how to write a flawed yet likable character who works from word one, yet far more often than I want to admit, I get the rug pulled out from under me yet again. Betas (had-picked readers I trust) point out why the character isn't working. After initially pulling on my hair and muttering things under my breath, I return to the keyboard and revise yet again. Because when everyone is saying the same thing, they're probably right.

I suppose in some ways, reading about a character in a new book is a lot like meeting someone in real life. You don't tell a new acquaintance about every skeleton in your closet, every bump in your road, every emotional injury. Rather, we get to know people a little at a time, and their personalities and characters are revealed gradually through actions and words. The same goes for characters, even those we've got a tight POV on.

Watching a movie is more like people watching; it's easy in real life to watch completely awful people interact and be nasty. We don't walk away from boredom. (Heck, we'll probably pull out our phones and start taking a video so we can entertain our friends.)

I'll continue working on making my characters just likable enough in the beginning for readers to agree to go on the ride.

But I confess that I'll forever envy Craig Mazin and his fellow screenwriters for their ability to ignore that note, even if the note drives them nuts.

It's Coming: Story @ Home

In a little over a month, the Story @ Home conference will makes its debut in downtown Salt Lake City. It's not a writing conference, and it's not just about family history. It's about well, bringing stories and family history to life . . . at home.

Family history and genealogy are some of the fastest growing interests in the world.

We now have access to more resources and information than ever before on how to do it, how to organize, get involved, make it a family affair, or even how to blog or simply write your personal life story.

All that information can be overwhelming. The idea of writing your personal history can seem daunting, especially if you don't consider yourself a writer.

That's where this conference comes in.

Created by Cherished Bound, the conference will focus on three tracks: Blogging, Genealogy, and Storytelling. When you register (for the steal of $79, which covers both days), you'll indicate which track you're most interested in, but that's mostly so they can plan. You can attend any class that strikes your fancy.

I'll be teaching, as will several other writer and bloggers you may be familiar with:

Rustin Banks from the Blog Frog

CJane

Elisa Scharton (also known as The Motherboard and the co-founder of the Casual Blogger Conference)

DeNae Handy (I challenge you to read her blog and not snort with laughter)

Jana Parkin

And many others, including, as I mentioned, yours truly.

It's going to be a ball. Be sure to register soon!

How I Pulled an "Anne"

Or: Maud's Influence

Like many writers (at least, I believe), I am influenced here and there by the books I read. Not in a blatant "I'm stealing this plot" sort of way, and not even in the more subtle, "I'm totally using that metaphor" kind of way, either.

If I come across a passage where an emotion comes across powerfully, I'll step back, put on my writer hat, and try to figure out how the author made the scene so effective. I watch for structure: what works well, what doesn't. Most importantly, why.

And so on.

But there was one case where a book impacted mine in a more direct way.

I won't do spoilers, so here's my attempt at explaining while being vague:

There was a case where I wrote Character A needing redemption in the eyes Character B, so A and C could be together. As I pondered the plot issue, I remembered a device in Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy Maud Montgomery (who preferred to be called Maud, not Lucy).

I realized with an aha that I'd found my solution. Sort of.

Those who have read all my books will likely recognize this now that I'm about to point it out. (And now you'll know where that plot event came from.)

When Anne accidentally gets Diana drunk on what she thinks is raspberry cordial, Mrs. Barry refuses to let the two be friends anymore. The two girls are not allowed to even talk to one another.

It's not until Mr. and Mrs. Barry are gone one night, and Diana's little sister Minnie Mae gets very ill, that things change: Anne comes to the rescue to save Minnie Mae, who would have died by the time a doctor arrived had Anne not intervened.

That night changes everything: now Mrs. Barry is overflowing in gratitude toward Anne for saving her baby. And she knows without any doubt that Anne can't be a horrid, evil girl after all. Diana and Anne get to be friends again! All is well.

In my book, I pulled an "Anne." I gave Character A, who needed redeeming, a chance to save someone else to prove their character to Character B, who was keeping them from the Character C.

(Is that vague enough to avoid a spoiler? Yet clear enough for those who know what I'm talking about? Hope so.)

That was the one time I deliberately used a specific technique I learned from LMM or any other writer. Yet my version looks very different than hers. I adapted a device.

However, in my very first book, I accidentally mimicked a line of hers from one of my all-time favorite books. I didn't realize I'd done so until two years after Lost Without You first hit shelves, while rereading The Blue Castle for probably the 10th time. I came to a similar line near the end of the book and gasped.

At first I was horrified. Had I accidentally plagiarized? But then I realized that no, I hadn't. First of all, plagiarism is deliberate. This was completely unintentional. Plus, the line wasn't copied; it just contained a distinctive adverb. I'd simply read and loved so much of LMM's work that her influence was bound to creep into my writing on some level.

Most of the time, when I'm influenced by another writer, it's in unseen ways: I notice how they start or end chapters, how they reveal character, show emotion, even describe gestures. (Robert Jordan was particularly good at the latter.)

So: I'm assuming others are influenced in similar ways. For the writers out there: whose writing influences you and how?

Or am I the only one weird one?

(Oh, and if you know what book and situation I'm talking about, please don't spoil it in the comments for anyone else! Thanks!)

Interview & Contest: Josi Kilpack

Up today: An interview with one of the coolest people on the planet, and a dear, dear friend.

I'm excited to announce two things in conjunction with her interview:

1) The release of Pumpkin Roll, the sixth book in the Sadie Hoffmiller culinary mystery series:

and

2) A contest to WIN an iPad. Fer reals, peeps.

About the author:

Josi S. Kipack hated reading until her mother handed her a copy of The Witch of Blackbird Pond when she was 13. From that day forward, she read everything she could get her hands on and credits her writing education to the many novels she has studied since then. She began writing her first novel in 1998 and never stopped. Sheep's Clothing (2007) won the Whitney Award for Best Mystery/Suspense. Lemon Tart, the first book in the Sadie Hoffmiller Culinary Mystery series, was a Whitney finalist in 2009. Josi currently lives in Willard, Utah, with her husband, four children, one dog, and a varying number of chickens.

Additional notes from me: Josi's cell phone ring is the sound of chickens, and Josi adores chocolate-covered cinnamon bears. She's also one of the four authors (with me!) of the upcoming Newport Ladies Book Club series.

***Our interview***

AL: You started your writing career with issue-driven books (prescription drug abuse, internet predators, infertility, etc.). How is writing culinary mysteries different?

JK: It’s a lot more different than I thought it would be when I started. For one thing, this was the first time I’d ever written a book with only one point of view character. There’s also specific expectations associated with Cozy mysteries—culinary mysteries are Cozies with a specific expectation in regard to story arc and character. I’ve had to learn about so many new things.


AL: Any similarities?
JK: This series is not different in regard to developing a character people hopefully care about and a plot that challenges that character to grow. AND, I still manage to work in an issue here and there :-)

AL: How do you go about approaching each new story to keep things fresh and interesting?

JK: Panic and pray and write, write, write. I write, I cut, I write some more, cut some more, and eventually mold something new. I’m mindful of trying not to repeat plot lines, motives, twists, and character types which gets harder every time but so far is working out after much stress and many Coke slurpees.

AL: With your Sadie mysteries, how do you come up with the type of murder and motivations each time?

JK: I watch a lot of TV and movies. A LOT!

AL: What research did you have to do for Pumpkin Roll in particular?

JK: I’d never been to Boston before, which made it intimidating to set a book there. I had hoped to go before my deadline, but that didn’t turn out, so I had to rely on friends, travel guides, websites, and movies and TV shows set in Boston—did I already mention I watch a lot of TV and movies? I also spent a lot of time researching ghost sightings and metaphysical beliefs and objects—lots of education there.

AL: What is your typical writing schedule like?

JK: I fantasize about a schedule. *sigh* Alas, I am a frantic writer these days. I try to plug writing in anywhere I have room. My most effective writing these days is when I can leave my family in the hands of my husband and escape to the office building of our business. I try to do this once a week and write from about 5:00 p.m. 'til midnight. I can get a lot done, and if I know I have it scheduled that week, I don’t feel as neurotic about it. In addition to my writing, I have four kids and do the bookkeeping for our business. Life is chaotic.

AL: Your career started out with a smaller niche publisher and has gone on to be with a much larger publisher and a successful series with a large fan base. What is one big thing you've learned throughout your career?

JK: That you can never stop learning and growing. Not only within your writing, but in your own personal development. If you stop experiencing life, you’ll run out of ideas, and if you at any time think you know it all, prepare to be sideswiped with something that reminds you otherwise. Writing should be a part of your life that helps makes it better, and your life should be a part of your writing that makes it better too. Every goal you reach will lead to a new goal you’ll need to set. There will always be set backs, there will always be frustrations, but the pursuit has been a worthwhile one for me.

AL: What's been the biggest surprise about the journey?

JK: The amazing people I’ve met. I never imagined that there were as many neurotic people driven by the stories in their head :-) But my best friends are people I’ve met through my writing, and it has enriched my life more than the writing ever could. If someone would have told me that before I started, I wouldn’t have seen how the connections would happen, but they’ve become a priceless part of my journey, which just goes to show you that you’ll never know where your ambitions might take you.

AL: Any advice for aspiring authors?

JK: Allow yourself failures and be honest in your evaluation of them. Find people who will tell you the truth and always look for ways to improve and grow your abilities. Keep perspective that writing should be a part of your life, but don’t stop living in the meantime. Surround yourself with inspiring people and things and work, work, work.

*****And now for the iPad contest!*****

In conjunction with the release of Pumpkin Roll, Josi and her publisher, Shadow Mountain, are sponsoring a contest for a new iPad.

To enter, simply leave a comment in the comment section of this post before
November 1, 2011. Winners will be announced and notified November 3, 2011.

For additional ways to enter (and there are many), visit Josi's website.

Get the book in paperback, audio, and Kindle formats HERE.

In Lieu of WNW . . .

I'm over at Precision Editing Group's blog today discussing TIME and the writer.

Come visit me at the Writing on the Wall blog!

Compelling Characters: The Great Blogging Experiment

Today is The Great Blogging Experiment, hosted by Elana Johnson, Jen, and Alex. Visit the links to find all of the gajillion bloggers talking about this topic today. Should be fascinating to see how so many writers view characterization differently.

This is a huge topic, so I'm going to boil it down to what I feel are the basics that make up compelling characters.

I think the most compelling characters are the ones who are the most developed, the "roundest," as they often say. But those terms don't really do the concept justice.

Compelling Characters

They are not easily figured out by what they look like on the outside. They think, feel, and have depth, layers. (Like those from The Help.)

What others think of them isn't necessarily the entire truth. (How about that Mr. Darcy?)

Their background and past experiences have shaped and defined them, and those things impact the current story and how they behave in it. (Easy example: Harry Potter.)

A compelling character isn't perfect, but is doing their best, even if that means standing facing danger, public ridicule, or something else. (Montag sure has a fight.)

It's someone I can relate to, even in a small way, and even if they're in a bizarre situation I'll never be in. (Katniss, anyone?)

A compelling character needs weaknesses and flaws, but ones that aren't so huge I dislike the person. To balance the flaws, they need a redeeming quality. (We'd hate John Cleaver without his redeeming quality. With it, he intrigues us.)

I like seeing characters who have weaknesses that can be turned on their heads to become strengths in the final, crucial moments of the story. (Stealing from myself here: this one is very Tabitha.)

Most of all, a compelling character is someone who has become so real to me that even after I read the last page and close the covers of the book (or turn off the Kindle, as the case may be), I keep thinking about them for a long, long time.

Drafted!

Final word count: 82,940

Working title: Band of Sisters

Time for: Happy dance!!!

Frickin' Brackin' ARGH!

So that's a slight exaggeration. But it is frustrating.

I've been slaving away at my work in progress, trying very hard to get it fully drafted by the end of this week. It's been a 12-week goal of mine to get it done, and I'm so close . . .

The goal isn't a random one. It's pretty important I get the book done soon, because of certain scheduling difficulties and plans I have for getting it critiqued by trusted people and getting it back and revised and submitted and . . . you get the idea.

Much of that stems from the fact that I won't be able to write for much of September, so time is of the essence here. (I'll explain why soon. It's a totally rockin' cool reason why I won't be working then. I'll blog all about it afterward. Let's just say it deserves a big huge "WOOHOO!")

Here's the deal: I have five women who are all integral to the book. Each one faces her own issue. Their problems intertwine, and the women help one another. It's been neat to see how they get along and work things out among them.

But, um, problem. Part of the story just refused to come together properly. One character's arc was misbehaving in the worst way, and I couldn't figure out how to knock the puppy back into submission. It's been bugging me for weeks. My poor husband has gotten an earful of me whining about it. I've been trying to ignore it for weeks so I could get work done on other areas of the story.

So . . . if you haven't noticed, the week and my 12-week goal end, oh, TOMORROW. And as of today, I still had no resolution for my poor character, J.

I spent much of today trying to figure her story out. Right around 6:30 this evening, the answer came to me. It's an easy fix, as fixes go. And it'll totally do the job.

Basically, I was trying to do too much with her in this book. Two scenes of hers really belong in a sequel, if I ever write one. So out they'll go. Cut. Delete. G'bye.

Yeah. That's 2,318 words that are no longer in the story. (Each and every one of them counts, people, yes, even the 18.)

The word count on my sidebar doesn't reflect the cut, however. I'm still counting the grand total of words I've written for the whole book. Because it makes me feel better. And because I'm not brave like some people who have folders to hold their cuts. (Hi, Josi!) The final count will be 2,318 words below whatever the rest ends up being.

2,318 is a lot of words. They represent two scenes I really, really liked and worked hard on. My goal wasn't just to get it drafted, but to write 60,000 words over the 12 weeks. If I delete those words wholesale, I'm a couple thousand (and 318) words in the red. If I leave them in my wordcount, I technically make my goal even though the story isn't quite done.

So here's the deal: I won't get too annoyed about hacking them out if everyone promises to buy this book in droves so there'll be enough demand for a sequel and I can use them later. (This is a contemporary book I'm working on, not my upcoming historical . . . wanna make sure everyone knows what they're promising.)

Deal?

Good. Now I can go kick something and feel better.

The Lyon's Roar

Cheesy title, but I couldn't resist; it just fit.

Tristi was kind enough to bestow the following award on me:



I am now supposed to give three pieces of writing advice and then pass the award on to some great writers.

I could throw out all kinds of advice (I'm opinionated and nerdy that way), but really, the things that most good writers do can be boiled down to three main things:

1) Write. A lot.
Obvious, yet I can't count how many people have come to me saying they "want" to write but never have gotten their behind in the chair and their hands to the keyboard. Want to write? DO IT. A lot. A good pianist can make a concerto sound effortless, but you can bet your booties that getting to that level took a lot of mundane practicing, including boring scales. Writing is the same way. To make it flow and sound natural takes work. A lot of it.

2) Read. A lot.
I don't know of a single good writer who isn't also an avid reader. On the flip side, I do know some sad writers who declare they don't have time to read. I love how Luisa put it once: that fiction is like a language, and to learn to "speak" it, you have to be fluent. The only way to do that is immerse yourself in it regularly.

3) Be where other writers are.
That means going to conferences, belonging to writing groups, joining a critique group, and networking. This is where you go from wannabe writer to real writer.

And for the award bestowal:

Rob Wells over at the Frog Blog. One of the funniest writers around. Love his stuff. Oh, and he's a closet romance writer. Don't let him pretend otherwise.

Josi who has a real power in her words (I don't recommend trying to read one of her books while on the treadmill. Crying or laughing while exercising just don't mix, people.)

Heather, my conference co-chair and a member of my critique group, who is so good at pin-pointing flaws and finding fixes.

Michele, yet another Whitney finalist (all three of these ladies are), and also a member of my critique group. I hope to have rough drafts this good when I grow up.

Mel's Wild Kingdom

Not long ago, my sister Mel began working on a collection of essays about her childhood. When I read them, laughing so hard I cried, my kids raced in to see what was wrong. Part of my enjoyment surely came from remembering the events she describes so vividly (and accurately!), but a lot of it is simply that Mel's a great writer.

Long-time readers here may recall that as a sixth grader (totally grown up, from where I stood in second grade), Mel began scribbling stories in notebooks. That's when the writing bug bit me, because emulating your big sister is really the coolest thing ever, right?

After Mel sent me a few of her pieces, I decided that the world needed to see one of these trips down memory lane, so with her permission, below is one of several that had me rolling on the floor.

It's longer than your average blog post, but it's well worth every word. Enjoy!


Lions and Tigers and Bears—But First, a Poodle

by Mel Henderson

I spent pretty much the entire fifth grade mad at my dad. Irritated by his lack of initiative, at least. I couldn’t understand how a well-schooled, world-wise university professor, a PhD—and a grown-up, for crying out loud—couldn’t be bothered to follow up on an issue so acutely important to his family: The matter of a pet.

Dad always described me as bright, delightful, a joy, and energetic. That said, I’ve also been told I could sometimes be an intense, demanding kid. Whatever.

We had cats, but everyone had cats. As a fourth grader, I’d even somehow persuaded my parents to let me have 2 white mice, and named them Cookies and Cream. My resourceful big brother fashioned tunnel mazes for them out of empty toilet paper tubes and masking tape. I had trained the mice, or so I believed, to stay safely on top of my dresser when I let them out of their cage to play. But my delusions of being the Mouse Whisperer would tragically end because, well, we had cats.

What I truly wanted was a wild, magnificent creature, bigger than me, grander than any house cat. And I knew it could be done.

My mother raised us to do our research: We are living in the in the Information Age, there is no excuse for ignorance, young lady, and she was not raising incompetent females.

Check. I did my research. I read every book I could find on the subject in the school library. I twisted my mother’s arm enough to buy a few more from those book order fliers from school. My bedroom was wallpapered with animal posters, wild and domestic. I watched Gentle Ben, Grizzly Adams and Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom every week.

I groomed and educated my animal sensibilities, and yet my parents kept bringing up little concerns, like is it illegal to own a carnivore the size of a Volkswagen when you live so close to an elementary school?

Being a born teacher and not wanting to completely burst my bubble, Dad’s strategy was to offer thought-provoking questions so that I could conclude on my own that finding and taming my own baby lion or tiger was a bad idea.

After striking out on obvious concerns like violent death in the jaws of a hunter (I had hard data supporting that it is possible to make giant cats safe if raised correctly from infancy), he’d offer questions like, “But how would a huge tiger ever get the exercise he needs?” to be met with my carefully thought-out response, “Dad, I’m riding him to school every day, then he will walk straight back home because that’s what I will have trained him to do.” Previous misadventures as the Mouse Whisperer not withstanding.

Next question.

Dad’s Socratic approach, while admirably gentle, put him alone in my angry cross hairs because it left me with a scrap of hope. I saw his questions as simply objections I was challenged to overcome, not actual considerations in making a wise decision. And I was proudly knocking every objection out of the ballpark. Score another run for Bright-Demanding-Joy.

Conversely, as a born truth-teller and anti-sugar-coater, Mom’s strategy was to strangle hope before the seed ever germinated. Her exact, unminced words were, “Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” She would often say things like, “When you’re the mom, young lady, you can have all the lions and tigers and monkeys you want in your house.”

To which I would silently respond, Hellooo . . . as if you could put predatorial carnivores under the same roof with monkeys!

Constant appeals to my father to please, please just look into it went completely unheeded. “Call the zoo today. Call ALL the zoos.” Right in the door from work and I’d hit the man with, “Dad! I found this book and the author lives in San Diego and an adult male lion lives with her and her husband. Write them a letter. I already got the envelope ready. And this book here has pictures of a bear on an actual picnic with his human family in Thailand or someplace. It’s a smaller breed of bear that is better for cohabiting with humans, but that kind would be fine!”

I could never figure out why he kept chuckling. It’s not like I was some clueless second grader who thought I was going to die if I didn’t get a pony with ribbons in its mane. But he never made even one call. I would have done it myself if I thought they’d take a kid seriously, but I needed his adult clout here. Show a little initiative.

Likely traumatized by my relentless verbal flailing, my parents’ collective “no new animals” foothold at last crumbled around my 11th birthday. They caved, allowing me to take in a 3-year old male miniature poodle, fully pedigreed AKC stock. He belonged to a friend’s grandmother who, we later learned, regularly cooked for him. He couldn’t be expected to thrive on the wretched offerings formulated in laboratories by veterinary scientists; much better to nurture a 10-pound show dog with a hot country breakfast three times a day. I think what sealed the deal for my dad was that she was willing to let us have the dog for free. Even crumbling footholds have their standards.

We were told that the poodle’s keeper/personal chef was retiring to a condo in Las Vegas and unfortunately couldn’t bring the dog with her. I suspect that once widowed, she simply found it too depressing to cook only for the dog, who never appreciated her gravy the way Earl did anyway.

Regardless, I was thrilled beyond words. My dream was beginning to come true: A poodle today, maybe a sun bear tomorrow. I was as excited and proud as a new mother and Nobel Prize winner on the same day, and I wanted to tell the world. Home video taken on my 11th birthday documents me cuddling a dirty, moppish-looking creature unsanitarily close to a birthday cake, forcing one paw into a tortured doggy-wave for the camera.

His name was Taco.

Taco came to us overfed and overdue for a grooming, but with neatly manicured nails, a properly cropped poodle tail, and the unmitigated libido of fifty randy Irish sailors. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Let’s call it thirty randy Irish sailors.

No one escaped his affections entirely, but the dog had a particular affinity for one individual, a shy and excruciatingly proper man who visited our home faithfully once a month as a Home Teacher from the church for years. Perhaps knowing that he’d see his crush only rarely, Taco always gave this gentleman his most earnest attention.

I can still hear the strained embarrassment in my father’s voice as he called for me to extricate Taco’s trembling, iron grip from a woolen pant leg and then isolate the dog behind a closed door. This could happen multiple times in one visit, as some wandering child would invariably and unwittingly release the hound, who would run full-boar once again for the object of his affections.

I have to wonder if my dad ever looked at that poodle and wished he was a lazy female tiger, stretched out in front of the fireplace, blithely ignoring everyone in the room. So much less conspicuous.

The home teacher never stayed longer than necessary. We’d apologize for the dog, again, say our good-byes at the door, and apologize for the dog, again. Later the family relaxed in the kitchen with some brownies or lemon bars. The dog relaxed on the patio with a cigarette.

It was really only a matter of time before Dad had had enough. At last demonstrating some true animal-kingdom initiative, he made a few calls to the university’s animal sciences program and offered up the pedigreed poodle-stud to be neutered in student practice. We all knew the day had come for Taco the Wonder Stud to become Taco the Poodle Eunuch.

Once he got past his initial anatomical confusion, Taco seemed to pass through a brief depression. He did eventually pull himself together and go on to lead a very full life, enriched by his new hobby of intimidating small children. Oddly, the testosterone was gone, yet the aggression remained. He continued to serve as my loyal and adoring bodyguard, sleeping at my side and fiercely chasing off anyone he didn’t trust. He also chased off my harmless little sisters, simply because he could, perhaps as a pathetic attempt to restore some dignity, some poodle manhood denied.

I never did get a lion or a tiger or a bear. But seven years later, I voluntarily left a good-paying, soul-sucking, part time job as the records clerk for an office of remarkable neurosurgeons and one prickly office manager (who I am still convinced has no reflection in a mirror) to take a position at a veterinary hospital.

By comparison, this was heaven. Inside the first week, I knew that between the resident cranky parrot, the arthritic Vietnamese pot-bellied pig, the suicidal dachshund hell-bent on poisoning himself with chocolate, and the spoiled Persian cat with the oral hygiene of a pirate, it would be a long time before my own animal kingdom would want for excitement.

The Finish Line

I made it! As of two days ago, I turned in my Manti temple manuscript. I had promised my editor he'd get it before Christmas. It was touch-and-go for a bit there, but it's done.

For those who have been following my progress, that means I reached all three of my personal writing goals for the last few months. First I had two word count goals that helped me get it drafted. Then I had a goal to get the first round of revisions done and the manuscript out to some of my personal readers. And finally, it was going over all of their suggestions and inputting them into the manuscript before turning it over to my editor before Christmas. (Wait. I think that makes more than three . . .)

I am hereby taking the next several days off to enjoy family and Christmas. I doubt I'll be near a computer much. I'll probably be reading, playing games, and taking a nap.

Sounds like heaven.

Merry Christmas to all!

More Dot to Dot

As I've mentioned before, I like to incorporate elements that connect my books to one another. The connections are always small threads, but I include them sort of like those "Easter eggs" you discover on DVDs, or a way for me to say hello to readers whether they recognize the message or not.

Just this last weekend as I had some holiday book signings, a store employee came up and asked about a young boy who appears briefly in Spires of Stone.

"Was that the Indian guy from your St. George book?" she asked.

I grinned. Yes, I told her. Yes, he was. His name is Abe. I'm so glad you caught it.

She clapped her hands and then turned to a fellow employee. "I told you it was him!"

I promised in that previous dot-to-dot post that my upcoming (and still untitled) Manti book would connect to Spires, but I was unsure for a long time of what the thread would be. I figured it out a few weeks ago as I was finishing it up. One character from Spires shows up briefly in one scene in a way that makes sense for him to be way down in Manti instead of Salt Lake City.

(I'm realizing that I need to clarify how old he is now, because this book takes place quite a bit later than Spires did.)

It'll be fun to see if readers notice him for who he is.

The other day another connection dawned on me, sort of a duh moment. Generally, I connect a book with the one that was released immediately before it. But this time a second possible connection occurred to me, so I'll be adding it.

This one will jump backward a couple of books, connecting Manti with my first historical temple novel. The thread will be in chapter one.

When this book is released, keep your eyes open for Lizzy from House on the Hill as she shops on Main Street.

I've Been MIA

I've been off-line for a little while. First it was the Chocolate Show craziness and then preparing to host Thanksgiving for my siblings, and then the big day itself. (Got to have the entire family over, plus have a web chat with the parents from the other side of the planet. Good times.)

Three highlights from the non-holiday time:

1) I had the opportunity to read Michele Paige Holmes's second book as she prepares to turn it into her editor. If you've read Counting Stars, you will have read the opening chapter of this book, as it was included at the back of that one. Remember Jay? This is his continuing story, and what a ride it is!

I loved it, and I'm sure her readers will too.

2) I did a bit of digging and found a couple of resources for my next project. This was a relief to me, because the temple I'll be writing about doesn't have nearly as much written about it as the others have.

3) The other--and somewhat less enjoyable--big thing I did was do a deep-cleaning on my girls' room. Ugh. The room is packed more than it should be. We're turning a former bedroom into my new office, and while we wait for that to be done, I'm still in my old office. That means all three of my girls are crammed into one bedroom.

We thought it would be a 3-4 week thing. They could handle it that long. That was in June. Yeah. Life's been busy. (I'll have to post pics of my new digs when the place is done. Can you say "built-in-bookcases"? I can't WAIT!)

In the meantime, however, having three young girls, three beds, three times the toys and garbage and artwork and silliness all in the same room tends to create a monstrous-sized challenge. It's not as if they aren't required to clean their room regularly, but if Mom isn't involved, certain things don't get a good cleaning. Toys end up under the bed. Garbage Mom would have thrown out gets pushed into corners. Dress-ups get mixed in with regular clothes. And so on.

I'm not sure how many hours we worked on that place, but in the aftermath, I carried out eight grocery-sized bags of garbage plus a good armful for the recycle bin. I'm sure I could have found more to clean (under one bed wasn't totally cleared out, I'm afraid, and we didn't organize the desk drawers, either).

We also spent time cleaning up the basement play area for when the cousins played there after the feast. Again, I'm not sure how much time I spent on that (certainly not as much as the girls' bedroom), but it was longer than the 3.8 seconds it took the crew to trash the place when they descended on it.

All in all, it felt good to get rid of all the garbage, to set things in order--even if it didn't last long.

But truth be told, it has also felt a little weird over the last week and a half to not sit down and write or blog. I've been under self-imposed deadlines for literally months, and now . . . nothing. It's intentional; I'm letting myself rest. But part of me has looked around, wondering exactly where I put myself.

I'll be taking a few more days off of the heavy stuff until I hit my manuscript revisions.

But I can't guarantee I won't be visiting blogland in the meantime.

Mission Complete!

I don't think I've ever posted twice in one day, but I just had to report.

In short: I did it!

My Manti book still rough in a couple of spots, but it's drafted. Everything is bridged and coherent. The story is complete. (Not sure I'm 100% satisfied with the closing scene, but I'll tinker with it later.)

The current word count is eerily close to what I predicted: 95,044.

I still need to finish up the historical notes section in the back and then go through the stack of papers lingering on my desk from my critique group before I give them the entire manuscript to some of them to hack apart.

But all of that can wait until Monday.

For now, I'm going to revel in the fact that I reached my goal of having this book drafted by Saturday, November 10, 2007.

And it feels good.

Now, where's the chocolate?

Chocolate, Chocolate, Everywhere!

For Utah chocolate lovers, the time is almost here. Next week is the 4th Annual Utah Chocolate Show! Woohoo!

Read part of the press release here, and then continue below it for a chance to win TWO VIP EVENT PASSES, worth $95.00!!!

(I usually don't indulge in lots of bold type and exclamation points, but this is a moment that warrants such enthusiam).

About the show:

Chocolate lovers of every stripe have waited all year for what has become a fixture on the state’s holiday event calendar: The Fourth Annual Utah Chocolate Show, November 16 & 17 at the South Towne Expo Center, with more to do, see, learn, and experience than ever before.

Some of the best chocolate that Utah and the U.S. have to offer will be there, including V Chocolates, Utah Truffles, See’s Candies, and Utah’s own bean-to-bar creator, Amano Artisan Chocolates, plus many others. Attendees can sample chocolates and enjoy show-only specials as they get a jump on their holiday shopping.

Specialty Classes that require pre-registration—a long-time attendee favorite—are back, as are free how-to demonstrations on the Gygi Culinary Solutions Chocolate Stage.

A Woman’sHeart.org, the show’s support platform for benefitting The American Heart Association in Utah, benefits their initiatives for women. The “I Love my Heart” 5K run/walk takes place Saturday, November 17, before the show opens that day.

Other new show features include a chocolate wedding cake competition display gallery and the Utah Loves Chocolate Photography contest, sponsored by V Chocolates. Young show-goers will be delighted by a special appearance by the Chocolate Princess on Saturday from 2 to 4.

An exclusive VIP opening celebration will be Thursday, November 15, the night before the 2-day main event. That evening, the “An Introduction to Fine Chocolate” tasting class will be free, and after judging by three of Utah’s foremost pastry chefs, chocolate wedding cake competition winners will awarded. A live-action Jeopardy!-style game featuring local celebrities will benefit the American Heart Association in Utah. Vendors will offer VIP night-only specials.

Main event show tickets are $7.00 each and are good for both Friday & Saturday. Children 5 and under free. VIP passes are sold only in pairs for $95. Tickets and passes can be purchased on the show’s website www.UtahChocolateShow.com, as well as at the door at their respective events.

###

Back? Good.

So here's the deal: One of my main jobs with UCS is writing the Weekly Chocolate Fix, a free electronic newsletter with fun chocolate trivia, recipes, show updates, and more. We award show tickets each week and chocolate prizes each month (the one for November is worth $50.00!).

Every so often, I throw in true chocolate confessions and funny chocolate stories--such as times when a mother steals from her kids' Halloween stash or licks the chocolate off her kids' toe. You know, the things real chocoholics do but don't really want to admit to.

That's where you, dear readers, come in.

Add your chocolate confession/story of no more than 150 words to the comment section (or email it to me: annette at utah chocolate show dot com).

You've got two big things going here:

1) If I select YOUR story to include in the next issue of the Weekly Chocolate Fix, you get the two VIP passes that are good for the VIP opening night celebration (which has tons of fun stuff not available at any other time--visit here for the low-down on the fun), but they'll also get you into the two-day show. And they're worth NINETY-FIVE BUCKS.

2) If I don't pick your story now, but DO decide to use it in a future issue of the e-letter, you'll receive FOUR free tickets to the 2008 show.

Really, folks, it's a no-brainer.

Now for the technical stuff: All submissions become property of the Utah Chocolate Show and may be edited for length and/or clarity.

To subscribe to the Weekly Chocolate Fix, click here. After the show, we always take a holiday hiatus before starting up again in January.

But please join us (both on the Fix and at the show next weekend)!

If you come, be sure to find me and say hello. And then give me chocolate. :)

Grace Period

I'm crying "uncle" on my current writing challenge.

Realistically, there is no way I'll reach 95,000 words by Wednesday.

Several factors played into this, among them the fact that I'm not just drafting scenes anymore, but filling gaps, smoothing over sections, and sometimes deleting sections that no longer work. Just this morning I ended up cutting 500 words belonging to a brief scene that I now see doesn't need to be there at all.

Ironically, that's still progress. We're in the shaping and molding phase of this book now, which means that sometimes the total word count decreases before it goes back up again. But I've been working--really, I have--and consider it quite an accomplishment to have numbers officially assigned to SIXTEEN chapters. (If you know how totally spastic I write, that's impressive.)

Compound that with the fact that I think I'm coming down with a bug. Just sitting at the computer hurts.

Oh, the joys.

The upshot is that I'm giving myself a bit of a break. On the other hand, I really do need this puppy done soon in order to have time to get feedback from my priceless critique group and do necessary revisions.

Therefore, I'm revising the challenge (it's my challenge; I'm allowed): I'm giving myself until Saturday night (that's November 10th) to finish drafting this thing.

If I manage that, I'll have to treat myself to a long bath, a day of reading, or an ice cream sundae.

Update, 8:40 pm:
I now have chapters 1-19 labeled and several scenes fixed and working. Unfortunately, my net word count for the day is negative 180--the reason I'm not updating my word count on the side bar. When I have a word count higher than what's there, I'll add it.

Onward and upward!

On My Own . . . or on YouTube

In honor of the October writing assignment over at Cre8buzz.com, here is my contribution.

It’s not a witty essay or a piece of fiction—just something silly that the prompt brought to mind. (That’s what a prompt does, right? Bring things to mind?) Had I managed to have more than three seconds to think straight over the last two weeks, I might have written something really inspiring and literary.

Or . . . maybe not.

* * *

As I’ve mentioned before, I went to high school with a bunch of thespians. These are people who took acting and made it a lifestyle. Their favorite party games were acting games. (Ever played "In the Manner of the Adverb"?) Their favorite pastimes were viewing or participating in plays—or listening to Broadway soundtracks.

With their insane music ability, it was a snap to stand around a piano while one (take your pick; it could be any one of half a dozen of them) sight read music and the rest sang along in perfect harmony. (Except me. "Give Annette the melody" was their sympathetic mantra.) Their competitions weren’t of the football variety, but rather Region Drama.

Being part of this group was particularly interesting since I lived in a very tight shell of shyness. These people exploded that shell off my person—which was a good thing in many ways, if uncomfortable at times. It stretched me.

It was because of them that I auditioned for and performed in three community youth theater productions. It was because of them I started taking voice lessons and tried out for the school choir. It was because of them I found my interest in ballroom dance (which in turn led to meeting my husband).

It was also because of them that I ended up playing the temptress/blackmailer Desaray Cahoon one wintry night.

Four of the gang were on a double date and decided to make a soap opera video. They spent much of the evening writing out the script. Then they called the rest of our group over to film the thing. (Essentially crashing their date, but hey—we were all buds, and it was fun.)

The story began with one of the love interests getting smacked on the head by a rival, sending her into a coma. I’m fuzzy on the rest of the story—it made more sense on paper than it did on tape—but there was also a mute girl who is cured by the pure love of her teacher, including a delightful montage between them after they discover their love. They frolicked the snow in Em’s backyard.

And then there was the blackmailing scheme of which Desaray (moi) was a part.

But the scene that had us all in stitches was when Em—the one who loved the mute girl's teacher (who was in love with the mute instead of her . . . the whole thing was dreadfully soapy)—sang a tearful rendition of “On My Own” from Les Miserables.

To fully appreciate this, you have to understand Em. She’s a consummate actress. In high school she played about every leading role possible. She won the award as the best actor of her graduating class. She went on to get a BA and an MA in theater. So yeah, the girl could (and can) act.

She can be very intense in her performances, especially her dramatic ones. Which is what made her hysterical to watch when she would take humorous material and turn it serious.

To this day, I crack up whenever I think of her dramatic interpretation of the song, “Oklahoma.” I can still hear the emotion and intensity in her voice when she’d declare, “And the waving wheat can sure smell sweet.” She had us hyperventilating.

Take that passion, add a cup of melodrama, and throw “On My Own” at her.

During the taping, one of the pianists in the group (did I mention these friends were also ridiculously talented musically?) played the music while she sang the song with the passion no Eponine has ever expressed.

I don’t know how she kept a straight face; the rest of us were rolling on the floor trying not to laugh out loud and ruin the shot.

Afterward, we had a scream watching the soap opera—then we all declared it should be burned, because someone really could blackmail us with such embarrassing stuff.

To my knowledge, it never was destroyed. In fact, I’ve met people (friends of friends) who say they’ve seen it. Um . . . yikes?

So I’m a bit scared that some day it’ll make its way onto YouTube or something.

Fast forward many years: When I wrote the book that became Lost Without You, I dropped in an inside joke that only those friends would catch. Some of them reportedly snorted out loud when they came to it.

It was when the voice teacher in the book is first introduced.

Her name is Desaray Cahoon.

Executive Decisions

I feel a little sneaky; a moment ago I wrote, "Chapter 6" at the top of a page.

Lest you think that makes no sense, I'll explain. Since I often write out of order, jumping ahead to scenes, coming back to flesh things out and bridge gaps--and since my first attempts at beginnings are rarely set in stone--I generally begin my chapters with plain old, "Chapter" until I know for sure that there's nothing missing before that one and it's clear where it belongs and what number it would be.

At least two months ago, I decided that chapters 1-5 were solidly in place and ready for their designations. In went "Chapter 1," "Chapter 2," and on through "Chapter 5." But looking at the next section, I wasn't sure.

I hesitated, going back regularly to look at it and thinking that I really should return to another character's storyline after Chapter 5 before continuing with Tabitha's situation, which was the next one written. But I didn't yet know if there was something significant happening at that point in his story to warrant a new chapter.

So, in typical skipping fashion, I'd leave it and go on my merry way to write something else. Every couple of weeks, though, I've returned to that spot and stared at it.

IS there something missing there? Or should I just continue from what is now Chapter 5 to the next scene with the same character?

Now I'm in the final crunch. I'm rereading the whole thing from page one, filling out and fixing things as I go (which, by the way, makes the word count CREEP up slowly and sometimes even reverse . . . but I AM making progress, even if the counter over there doesn't reflect it).

This morning when I came to the end of Chapter 5 and had the single word, "Chapter" staring me in the face, I remembered: Oh, yeah. I was supposed to figure out if a new scene belonged here.

What did I do? I left the computer and had lunch. I figured that maybe while I sipped some soup I'd be able to figure out what belonged there.

Lunch ended, and I had no brilliant flashes of insight. I'm taking that to mean that no, nothing belongs there, at least right now. If I tried adding something without knowing why it's there and how it plays directly to the main conflict, it'll probably be fluff.

I hate fluff.

So I sat down, planted my hands on the keyboard, and added a "6" after the word, "Chapter."

I feel so liberated. And a little like I got away with something, as if there's part of the story I decided to play hookie on.

As if it's not my story.

Writers are so weird.

Writing Topsy-Turvy

The way I write comes as a surprise to many people, readers and writers alike, but I can't help the way I do it: I don’t write my books chronologically.

Yes, I do start at the beginning and go from there. Sort of. My beginnings have a tendency to be cursed. My critique group laughs at me because I’ll bring what I think is my first chapter with the heading reading only, "Chapter." I won’t commit to it being "Chapter One" until later, because way too often I’ve had to rewrite the chapter—several times, start elsewhere in the story, or (worst of all) trash the section altogether.

Once I figure out the beginning, I generally go on my merry way for several scenes or chapters. But then I can’t help myself; I always jump ahead.

While I don’t write strict outlines of my books with every scene and plot point pre-determined, I do have a general idea of where I’m going. If the plot has points from A to Z, I know what D, G, K, P, and W are. I also know Z. But I don’t always know how I’ll get from A to D or what will fill the gap between D and G. Or exactly how K will develop to that point.

And sometimes even when I do know some of these things, I get really excited about an upcoming scene at say, L or S, and want to write it now. So I do. I figure it’ll come out better when my creative side is on fire about it than waiting until I write another 40,000 words to reach the scene the "real" way. By then my excitement might have petered out, and the resulting scene will be watered-down.

When I fill in the gaps and bridge to the later scenes I’ve already written, some details will have changed, and those scenes that I wrote out of order must be revised—sometimes significantly, sometimes just a tad here and there.

As I’ve mentioned before, I do a ton of my drafting on the fly with my AlphaSmart Neo. If it weren’t for that trusty tool, I wouldn’t get nearly much done.

But with each book, thanks to my upside-down, topsy-turvy way of plotting it out, eventually I reach a point where can’t just sit down and spit out the next scene. I have to be in front of the computer with the entire manuscript before me. That way I can read for flow, see where the holes are and how various scenes need to interconnect, and so on.

As wonderful as the gadget is, I can’t do that on my Neo.

Which makes for difficult drafting of the remaining fourth or so of a book, which for me isn’t the ending fourth of the pages.

That’s where I am now. Some days I have a specific scene I can write on my Neo, such as yesterday, when I sat in the car and wrote as my husband drove us down to Manti for research. (way cool visit, by the way. I’ll report on that soon.)

But such writing jaunts are getting harder and harder as the spots I need to bridge are shrinking and the chronology needs to be clarified and smoothed out.

Which makes my current 4-week challenge, well, more of a challenge for me.

Yikes-a-moly.

Thanks to everyone who has wished me luck on this last leg.

If only my Neo could help me right to the bitter end . . . sniff.

Writing Challenge

About a week ago I joined Tristi's Book in a Month Challenge. For me, I'm not trying to finish a book, just keep plugging along at a steady pace and hit the homerun stretch by the time we're done.

So I'm calling it my 4-Week Challenge, and to keep myself motivated, I'm reporting my progress on the sidebar: The date the challenge ends, my beginning word count, and where I am so far. With any luck, that kind of accountability will make it happen.

When it's over, I might do another 4-Week Challenge to actually get the book finished.

On a different note, my foodie side has to pass along a recipe I used last week. On Friday I had the opportunity to visit the South Pointe Deseret Book store with author Gale Sears. The two of us brought breakfast. We met the staff, ate food, and talked about our newest releases. Lots of fun.

My contribution to breakfast was homemade muffins, and if I say so myself, they turned out great. But I have to give credit where credit is due. I got the recipe from Luisa at Novembrance, using her "Mother of Invention Muffins" recipe. I highly recommend you check it out and play with it. She had three substances you can switch around.

Here's what I used:

Substance A: Grated zuchini.

Substance B: Sour cream.
The options in the actual recipe are buttermilk, milk, or water. Since I sometimes use sour cream as a substitute in another recipe, I thought I'd give it a shot here as well.

Substance C: White flour.
I personally would have preferred at least half whole wheat or all whole wheat, but I know not everyone does. As I was making these for other people, I thought I'd play it safe.

Another change that I made shouldn't be a huge shocker for anyone who knows me. Instead of dried fruit or nuts, I decided to throw in chocolate chips.

Great for curling up with a good book, especially now that fall is around the corner!