Monday, May 16, 2011

SNI: Shiny or Scary New Idea?

I've known for awhile what my next novel will be. I refer to it as a Shiny New Idea, but really, it's an old idea that's recently been polished. My current project either doesn't include or doesn't focus on any of the subjects my SNI would, such as friendship, a two-girls-one-guy love triangle where it's (hopefully) not obvious which girl the guy should choose, Nova Scotia, musicians, and summer.
Of course, I don't know how the novel will turn out until I write it, but I know I can write about all the topics I listed. Aspects of the project scare me--like, uh, its lack of plot--but the subject matter doesn't. 

But recently, I had a dream which inspired me (I know, please stay with me.) I've never been inspired by a dream before, but when I woke up from that one--I honestly can't remember the dream at all--I thought, "What if I write a character who ___ ?" (I know, but this idea isn't fully fledged yet--and may never be--so the rest of this post will be ambiguous. This post isn't about the idea itself.) 

I toyed around with that idea for awhile, and tried to put it in the context of a story I abandoned last summer. It still wasn't working, so I forgot about it. Then, I listened to a song I hadn't heard in awhile, and I had to pause it after the first line because I was so struck by it, and the story it sparked in my head. Once I put the novel I abandoned, the idea from the dream, and the inspiration from the song together, I had something--not enough that I could write a practice query, or even eloquently describe it now, but enough for me to explore it. 

I'm a pantser, so what scares me the most about this idea isn't that I don't fully understand it yet, but that, unlike the SNI I discussed earlier, I don't know if I can write it. It's dark, and though my novels aren't purely fluff, they're not dark. That said, my novels do have some fluff, and anything that seems romantic in this new SNI would always have a borderline disturbing quality to it. Also, worldbuilding would be crucial in this novel (though it's still contemporary), and I am slightly terrible at worldbuilding (understatement of the year.) 

I like this idea, but I don't know if I'm the person to write it. I'm scared of it. I'd love to tell you that I'll be brave and try it after I finish my current project, but I don't know, I may not. I may stick to the safe idea--which I still like--and let this one sit for awhile. I don't know what I'll do.

And that's why I'd love to hear from anyone who has been in this situation. Have you ever had a Scary New Idea? What was it? Did you try it? Did it work? Let me know in the comments!

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Road Trip Wednesday: Who Should Narrate the Audio Book?

Road Trip Wednesday is hosted by YA Highway.

This Week's Topic:
If you got to choose a celebrity narrator for the audio book of your WIP or your favorite novel, who would it be and why?

When I hear my narrator talk, I don't hear the tone of her voice. I do, however, hear her attitude and emotion. So, this choice is more about the way my character speaks than it is about how she sounds. 

Chelsie Hightower, of So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing with the Stars fame, is who I would choose to narrate Building Forts as Callie. I have no idea if she can act--her dancing suggests that she can, but that doesn't involve her voice--but her attitude matches Callie's well enough that it wouldn't be much of a stretch.


I've posted a collection of Chelsie's quotes, many of which match Callie's personality. The most important part of Callie's voice is her snark, which I hear in how Chelsie's sarcastic with others and herself. Callie's also not the most eloquent of narrators, and Chelsie has multiple moments where she realizes what she's saying isn't quite right halfway through. I also think how Chelsie's sexy when she dances, but jokes about her sexuality and is a little tomboy-ish off stage, would translate well to how Callie can be so awkward during flirting and foreplay, but ultimately knows how to, uh, get the job done.


Who would you choose to narrate your WIP's audio book?

Monday, May 2, 2011

Why We Shouldn't Ignore Our Weaknesses

I love dance, but I am not a good dancer.

I do all the moves pictured on the left every night in my basement. Seriously.
In elementary school, I enrolled in every week-long summer dance camp I could, the ones taught by high  school students in gymnasiums that claimed to be combination of hip-hop, jazz, modern, and contemporary, all at the same time. The first age appropriate song I performed to was "Waiting for Tonight" by Jennifer Lopez, and a couple years later, I made my debut as a co-choreographer with a piece to "Space Cowboys" by N*SYNC. I did not gain any technique from these experiences, but they were fun, and a huge part of why I decided to look for a studio.

The first studio I joined is one of the most respected ones in my city, and I joined a hip-hop class like any suburban girl would. And I loved it. The class was small, my teacher was awesome, it was fun, and I was half decent at it. Problem was, the class was so small that the studio had to cancel it, though they encouraged me to sign up for the intermediate class when the next term started. So, I signed up.

I was so intimidated during the first intermediate class that it became my last. My classmates were real dancers, who were older, taller, skinner; who dressed like dancers and wore their hair in ponytails; who picked up choreography like that; who could perform moves I only saw in So You Think You Can Dance.

I wasn't an intermediate dancer, so I quit. My friend, who actually is a wonderful dancer, was part of a different studio, and from her recitals and competitions, I knew their choreography was easier than what I'd tried to do. I joined their hip-hop/jazz class, and took it for two years. The class was really a jazz class--with the occasional booty shake--yet I learned little technique beyond pointing my toes. But, that was what I signed up for, and though it always took me awhile to pick up choreography, hitting the moves was rarely the problem.

When I watched the DVD of my performance back, I realized why I didn't struggle with the steps in class. Unless we were doing a move that required the use of our arm, we were told to put our hands behind our back, because we'd look messy if we didn't. The problem with that is there were moves where we needed to use our arms, and mine looked more like spaghetti than anything else. They were weak, flimsy, awkward, and everything else a dancer shouldn't be. In class, we never worked on strengthening our arms, because they were hidden most of the time, anyway.

You can't put your hands behind your back when you write.

My weakness as dancer was my arms, and one of my weaknesses as a writer (definitely not my only, and the easiest one to fit into this analogy) is setting. When my hands were behind my back, that didn't matter. When setting isn't important to a scene, it doesn't matter.

But, when I had to use my hands? My weakness showed, and it was so obvious that it ruined my entire performance. When I get to a point where I have to mention setting? Well, in revisions for my current project, I realized my paraplegic character left the hospital much sooner than he should have, which of course affected the time-line of the entire novel.

It's easy to ignore our weaknesses, to put our hands behind our back and hope no one notices. But, if there's one element of writing we should focus on (especially in revisions), it should be the one we least want to confront, the one we're worst at.

It's important we stay in the intermediate class, even when we're intimidated by it, because we won't grow as writers if we stay in a class where we're comfortable, and our flaws are hidden behind our backs.

What are your weaknesses as a writer? Are you working on them? How so? 

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