Ponderings of Home

My sons exploring the world through the windows of a fish-head.

I have started a new short story this week and the central focus, so far, explores the concept of home.

Is home a specific place? Is it a person? Is it family or is it being part of a community? How does one define home?

I stumbled on this story by accident when I saw my Grandmother's first name, Audrey, on a book. Memory evoked hearing my Grandfather tenderly referring to her as "Aud," made me wish I could stop by for a coffee.

Once I started writing my thoughts my brain skipped to them moment I first felt I'd come home, except this moment came as I sat in a Bar, in a strange city, surrounded by strangers. To my logical mind this place should have been the opposite of home, so what was this I felt? This is a concept which I've been pondering for years and my idea of home keeps growing and changing. And no, that Bar was definitely not home, but then, that's part of a bigger story.

Thus I have my current story project and I plan on working on it more during July's "National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) Camp".  For those who don't know, this is a smaller version of the National Novel Writing Month event which is held every November and participants get the experience of being put in a cabin with other writers for the month, making a virtual community.

What would you work on if you had a whole month to develop it and a virtual community of like minded writers in which to call home while you did this?

Pondering on Fireweed

Taken at Dredge #4, Dawson City, Yukon. July 2009.

I always find it amazing to discover how a specific detail of a story writing has made it's way into my work from my subconscious and what the connections are, however loose, to my own life. A year ago in June one of the words I suggested was "Fireweed." Then, last summer I when began exploring linocuts for blocks printing. One of the first cuts I designed was Fireweed. I was very happy with the simplicity and detail I had put into the image, but lacked the drive to actually do much with it until last week, when I again had the print making materials out for the kids to use and I decided, 'what the heck, I'll have some fun too' and pulled out my fireweed cut. 

Having made 9 different and unique prints on paper I was then left with the dilemma of wondering what to do with them. It was this pondering which got me thinking about Fireweed. I remembered as a child spending hours playing in the field of fireweed which grew on the embankment next to the garden and watching the bumblebees harvest pollen. And I began to wonder just why Fireweed still continues to fascinate me and what it's significance is in my life is now that it has turned up, not only in my writing, but my drawing and other creative expression too. In doing this I recalled the post On the Road to Somewhere where I discussed story beginning I wrote last June using the word "Fireweed," which appears below.

On the Road to Somewhere

The purple-pink carpet stretches on both sides of the road as far as I could see, broken by blackened stumps, sentinels lifting their heads above the thronging flowers, bowing in the wind. Bumble-bees hovered from bunch to bunch gathering nectar. The raging fire, bearer of this beauty, but a memory soon forgotten.

 My worldly possessions filling the trunk of my little Epson Ford, I drove. If you had to chose what to take. If you could take only what would fit into the car; what would you chose? My typewriter, a suitcase and paper for words yet to come. 

 Back home Tom was heading in the other direction. I could imagine the women on his smooth talking arm, twirling their skirts, smiling with their flippant blonde locks streaming in the wind I’d left behind. 

I let the pictures fly, one by one, out the open window, memories blowing in the breeze marking the trail of where I’ve been, the stereo playing in the background. So, what; fine me for littering. I looked ahead at the open highway, roads to somewhere - unwritten. 

After reading this I realized that the fireweed in the piece appears after a moment of irrevocable change in the main characters life, a climax in a story, and is very fitting. Springing from the ground after a forest fire, fireweed displays it's beauty and reclaims the earth with new life and I think for me it is a symbol of rebirth and hope, that no matter what the changes are and how many, to borrow phrase form L.M. Montgomery,  "bends in the road," there is always some new beauty, some hope. And, in my case, I have Fireweed.

One of the 9 prints.
In this one I highlighted the design in
silver ink after the print dried. 

A Writing Blueprint

I have never been a fan of New Years resolutions and last year my solution was to make New Years wishes. In my post, New Beginnings, I referred to Emily Starr, a character in the books Emily of New Moon, Emily Climbs, and Emily's Quest, by L.M. Montgomery. In the Montgomery's books Emily is a writer and she often writes letters from her present self to her future self. I contemplated doing the same with my New Years wishes. My thought was to write a letter to myself containing my hopes for the coming year in and asking questions about where I am now and if the things I've wished have happened. The idea being to open this small time–capsule New Years Eve and consider its contents.

Now, as I sit here, I'm attempting to imagine what I would have said and how I would feel upon reading such a missive from my younger self; I wish I'd actually written the letter. What I did do last March was start a wish book which helped me resolve several things in my life. However, I have no desire to read it.

Looking back I recall the types of things I mentally wished for and see I didn't manage to accomplish everything. Somethings in my life have turned out drastically different than I would have imagined and others have worked out better that I would have thought. But I'm happy with what I've done. I've managed to rearrange my schedule to get more writing time, I've grown as a person, I've found a balance which works for me in my creative work and I've currently have 8 submissions out that I'm waiting to hear back on.

In thinking of this I have looked at the coming year as a whole and decided on what some reasonable expectations would be. Now, everyone knows for a wish to come true one must keep it a secret so these plans are not wishes, nor are they resolutions. Resolutions are like chores one doesn't want to do but knows one should and I have no wish to hang that stone around my neck.

Instead my thoughts for this next year take the form of a writing blueprint; an elaborate plan containing all the specific information needed for the construction and completion of a my desired writing project – down to the margins, formatting and type of font required. The following is my blueprint for the next year. It is a continuation of the work I began in October and, when completed, will provide the foundation necessary to ensure I have a growing number of finished pieces to submit to various markets which will hopefully result in publication.

1) First Draft of new story (A Queer Fairytale)
2) Changing Tides (minor revisions and polish and send out) 
3) First Art related article (reproof and send out)
Jan 15th (total = 10)
4) The Wall and Wishes and Dreams (add missing pieces, revise, polish)
5) Memory Files (revisions and polishing)
6) Still, I stand (minor revisions, polish and send out)
Feb 15th (total = 11)
7) Reread The Wall, Wishes and Dreams and Memory Files, put on final polish and send out. Reproof, polish and send out any of the 8 stories currently submitted places, as needed.
(total = 14)
6) Mobri's Dragon (revise)
7) A Queer Fairytale (revise and edit)
8) Write first line story
March 30
9) Continue working on Times Heart and The Trade Off. 
10) Revise first line story and finish the "winding stair" story – find a title for it.
11) Polish and send out first line story, Mobri's Dragon and A Queer Fairytale
June 1st (total = 17)
12) SUMMER BREAK – Break from writing and begin 10 hour days at work and play with fabric, inks, drawing and other visual art type projects, hike, kayak and relax and gather ideas.
13) September 01 take a brief breather. 
14) Assess goals, decide on where I am and where I want to be and revise blueprint as needed. Continue working on pieces to send out and the novels, Times Heart and The Trade Off.


All stories will be constructed in Times New Roman font. Drafts will be stored in individual files marked with the stories title. All submissions will follow the submission guidelines specific to the place they are being submitted. Numbers for items in circulation will be recorded with date of submission, title of story, place submitted and expected response time. The totals specified in the plan take into account those stories currently in the submission pools (starting status = 8). 

Of course, this is just a surface picture of the entire blueprint I'm working from. Like the sketch of a finished house without the nitty gritty plans for each floor. I haven't included blogging, writing excercises, correspondence, research, and the possibility of other new work arising within the course of the year. I have simply worked with the stories currently finished or underway. And the deadlines, as in any project, may be shifted as lifes crises arrise. But, if I follow the plan I should end up with the minimum end result – a growing collection of completed, polished work and increasing options.

And as I ponder resolutions, wishes and plans I'm struck with the realization that they largely reflect the things which are important in some way, changes and progress towards a goal that matters and I wonder if everyone wrote theirs down what they would all look like.

Photos: Above right taken at dusk in Haines Junction 2009 Easter weekend. Above left taken in 2005 at a small forestry day use/ trail head camp just before Stewart BC.

Finding a Natural Rhythm

Big Sky - October 2010

"Don't quit your day job." This is the advice many authors, and publishers alike, give to writers. And it is a well known fact that writing alone doesn't always pay the bills.

But, here's the dilemma. If one doesn't quit ones day job, how does one have the time or energy to get a collection of work together? If I was a visual artist it would be difficult to become known without having a collection of work, a show, or something more than a few pieces of work to display. This is also applicable to writers. And to get published one must send stuff out; to send stuff out one must have stuff to send out and at the rate I was going it would take another 3 years to get 10 stories together never mind anything else.

For Sale 

Of course, writing residencies would be perfect and afford me the time necessary to dedicate to my writing and do this – but many require you to have specific publishing credits in order to qualify and these are the very things I need to build. So, how does one keep the day job and amass work without taking a decade to do it and still write what one wants?

At the end of last summer I was forced to make some decisions about work in order to avoid a second burn out and take care of my health. I chose to cut my work load in half and work a 6 – 7 hour work day instead of 12 (at least when school's in). This has enabled me to spend more time on my writing and I have now come up with a system which works for me.

I divided my days into open hours, business paperwork, writing and market research. I'm open 5 hours a day, I spend an hour or two a week on business paperwork, 5 – 10 hours a week (ideally) on writing and 1 – 2 hours doing market research and the rest gets eaten up with errands, volunteer time and my children.

If I find a place I can send something which I already have finished, I do it that day. If I need to do some minor adjustments to a piece in order to send it out, I do it that week. In this way I have recycled, reworked, or finished many of the projects I was close to having done and polished. To date I have sent out 8 things, 3 of which are new pieces.

I have also learnt that regular writing exercises and word play are hugely beneficial in this process. If I find a magazine looking for a postcard story, I rise to the challenge. These shorts take a week or two to finish and allow me to explore different ways of conveying information; they also force me to focus on specifics such as action as opposed to narration, creating the suspense necessary to grab the readers attention and hold it, and including only the details which are pertinent to the story. This makes them pretty tight and helps my writing improve.

And in alternating between finishing projects, plugging away at longer term projects like my 2 novels, starting new short stories and sending stuff out I finally feel I've found my natural rhythm. And that is personally satisfying and relaxing in many ways.

On the dike in Dawson - facing West. July 2010

Wild Things

What's the most wild thing you can possibly think of, I'm talking weird and bizarre. Trust me, this is a good exercise. I stumbled upon this quite by accident. Writing professors are forever saying 'put you characters up a tree and then throw rocks at them,' and I think that phrase has been used so much it's become clichéd. This is kind of like the same thing from a different angle.

Take something mundane like a year of the tiger stamp which is currently at Canada Post. It's beautiful in oranges and blacks with a gold foil tiger on it. Beautiful. What if it was enchanted? Or what if the tiger cam to life? How would it come to life? Would there be some kind of ritual or spell? Why would it come to life?

Now you have the makings of a story. One must have characters to make it happen. How are they going to react if it comes to life? Will it be a good thing or a bad thing? How will they defeat it? Maybe the stamp represents some oppressor and the main characters are fighting for their rights. Now you have the beginnings of a possibly political commentary.

Now comes to the fun part, building suspense and putting it all together so that it makes sense. Your plot, characters, and story have just evolved out of a stamp. Cool isn't it? Isn't this something like what nursery rhymes originated as... political commentary children learnt as fun senseless rhymes? That is if my memory serves me correctly.

Story boarding for Revision

I sat with the story before me. The main character, Sam, clearly in my mind. I needed to revise it, to add in a piece, but was uncertain how to do it. Pregnant, she was pregnant. What did that have to do with the story? I remembered when I first began to write the beginning of this story (in 2009) I discovered Sam was pregnant, but then changed it. After all, how could a pregnant person climb on a climbing wall. I hadn't thought far enough, she could be in her first trimester. So, I decided to it back in. But, I needed to understand what that had to do with the story?

The conference. Sam's at a conference when she meets another woman. That's the catalyst that starts this story off, but what is the conference for? How does it fit into the story? I need to know this too and how it connects with what happens in the story. The main character climbs the wall, she learns something about herself, about trust. I need the pieces to fit together. I know the plot, but I feel the need to visualize it. I need to write it out, write out notes. But not write a plot line. I need to see the three strings which make up the story and then weave them together.

I don't do well with outlines, especially when I'm discovering the story. This story I know. I decide now is the time to write out some of the mechanics. I pick up my pen and begin. Why is she there, what training is she getting? Rip. I stick the paper to the front window. She's pregnant. She's single. How does she feel about this? Fear - fear of being alone, undecided about continuing the relationship with the father. Rip. I stick it up beside the first paper. What does she see in Shay? I make notes and stick it up beside the first two. Next I start on the second row. Conference - FASD. Pregant - Doesn't trust herself. Shay - desperate to connect. Then comes the next row. Conference location - Banff. Pregnant - I list the feelings and barriers this has raised for her. Shay - her safety line (ooh, poor choice) Shay doesn't want to be her safety line. Then comes the last row. Walls. This story is about overcoming walls in more than one way. I list what walls each of the sections is posing.

As stand back and gaze at my stickied window, reading the threads. Things a looking much clearer and I now have some more ideas about how I'm going to proceed with this and put in the missing pieces to the story.

I'm not sure why I haven't used a story board to visually organize my ideas before. This isn't exactly a story board as it doesn't outline the story in sequence, but it is the closest thing I can think of to describe what I have done. Storyboards are generally used to lay out a films or movies in animated segments in order to tell a story. This has been used in film, theatre, comics, screen plays and many other types of digital or multi-media storytelling. I have heard of a few people tacking up cue cards to organize scenes and chapters in novels and I believe I even read an article on it in either the Writer Magazine or The Writer's Journal, but this is the first time I've ever actually attempted to use anything like it myself. It worked wonderfully.

Finding The Heartbeat or The Rescue of a Stranded Story

Saturday morning I sit at the local café reading the newest edition of the Writer. This act is a precursor to beginning work on the story at hand just as this post is a warm up for my other writing. In both cases the story is Changing Tides. I know I have mentioned this story in older posts and it's one which I've been easing myself back into. However, I'm now up against the do or die deadline. This is the story I'm going to work on in Newfoundland when I attend Piper's Frith and I have to put it back together before I go because in it's current million and one, okay I exaggerate, pieces it would never survive the trip in any recognizable state.

I first wrote Changing Tides in the fall of 2005. In 2008 I painstakingly revised it, polishing the flow in an attempt to prepare it for a reading. That's when I realized it was missing... something. It was mostly a very well painted backdrop strung on a beautiful island of prose. Masked somewhere behind the conscious words I'd thoughtfully written was the rest of the story, for which I would need to search my subconscious. So, with a setting rich enough to taste, crafted with gorgeous scenic descriptions (which I loved!) setting both tone and mood with perfect clarity - the story nevertheless lay stranded in limbo, lacking a strong enough plot to carry it off.  Until now...

As I read through the 5 new beginnings I've made since then, I make notes and questions to help me bare the meat, to locate the life line - the missing connections to something. To what? As the flesh begins to emerge I'm startled when the missing "details" suddenly show themselves unexpectedly and I begin to see how it fits and why it was so hard to include; how emotionally charged it makes me feel - how deep the connection is - it scares me and excites me at the same time. It's not that I haven't discovered the emotional connection to a story before, but it's never been this strong or quite like this. And I realize this is what Jenny Rough was talking about in her article, "The Essayist finds her stride," in Septembers issues of the Writer, when she describes sculling. She uses her her experience in learning to scull to explain how she uncovers the missing pieces in her writing - the emotional connection, that something that makes the writing work and brings it alive.

The more I continue to delve into the missing pieces of Changing Tides the clearer  this reveal becomes and I'm startled to discover the backdrop colours, moods and highlights are all in the right spots to reflect and display them to the best advantage - like a stage set built to order, waiting for the main attraction. An event I now acknowledge I could not have written in 2005 or 2008 because it contains aspects of my life I had not yet allowed myself to see. Things and feelings I was not ready to face at that time. Perhaps one could argue that the piece would not be the same as it is now had I finished it 2 years ago, but I believe differently. I believe it was always meant to be what it is now and I'm awed by the genius way it all fits together.

This revision will still be difficult, but I know from experience it's often the most difficult things which are the most rewarding and I am eager to begin work on it. However, in retrospect I wonder if, just as this unwillingness or inability to reveal certain aspects of myself stopped me from being able to write the crux of this story 2 years ago, perhaps it's the same thing that's also at the root of the writer's block some people experience.

Part 2: The Birth of a Writer

People who know me are constantly saying they, "don't know how I do it." Some have even asked me how I do it, meaning how do I raise a family, work a day job, be an active part of the community and find the time to write. I've found this a hard question to answer as there's no real "how" to it, and "because I have to" doesn't convey anymore information than replying to the question, "who are you?" with, "I'm me."

I began writing and drawing at a young age. I bore my own children young, birthing my first at 20. There was a period of 10 years where my writing and my children shared scant space. My writing starved, but my children thrived and my creativity found outlet in changing knitting patterns and sewing quilts, adding my own mark to everything I made. This happened for many reasons, not because I was sacrificing myself for my children, but rather I couldn't figure out how writing fit into the mold of who I was supposed to be, what I thought was excepted. I didn't know how to be both and would later find I didn't in fact know myself.

During my abstinence, my writing obstinately tried to break out of the drawer where I'd shoved it; calling to be set free - to breath. And when I could no longer resist, I began the physical act of writing again, embarking on a surprising journey of self-discovery leading to more than a half-starved writer. It was the beginning of an inner awakening, the realization of who I was and it resulted in my becoming the whole person I was born to be in more ways than one. Along with this came the knowledge of how close I'd been to losing myself permanently, my identity and how deeply I'd been buried. One can't discard or reject a part of ones self without consequences and I'd been doing that for years - every time something about who I was didn't fit into the perception of who I should be. We tell our children they can be anything they want - but do we actually mean it. Does society really support it?

I don't regret this time, it simply was. When I think of the path my life might have followed if I'd kept writing when I was first married and had children I know my writing would not me the same as it is now - it would lack the depth and knowledge of my experiences within the drawer. Just as people who bear children when they are older parent differently than those who bore theirs earlier in life, my writing would have developed differently.

Birthing babies, never mind raising them, takes time and is hard on your body. A doctor will tell you it takes about 3 years for your body to recover after having a baby, he doesn't mean from the delivery. My children are 3 years apart, but I could swear my body didn't really recover until my youngest hit 6 or 7. I don't know if there is such a thing as recovery after birthing a story. Unlike being pregnant, writing breeds more writing. I heard an editor once refer to this  phenomenon as having a disease, once you caught the writing bug you couldn't stop. I view it as a blessing. When you experience starvation for awhile you don't take it for granted anymore.

No two writers write the same, every artist's work is distinctive to it's creator in some way and yet takes on a life of it's own; two pieces only being alike in the same way all children are children.  Each of my children is uniquely individual with their own characteristics, likes, dislikes and temperament. This can also be said for each of my stories. Most develop in the womb of my mind in a similar fashion, but they all differ in essence, design and their needs during their up bringing. Some are easy and others I have a more difficult time with, those ones fight me all the way with temper tantrums and arguments, but they're often worth it; they're the ones that teach me something and help take my writing to the next level.

I've always been delighted by a newborns perfection - one doesn't expect they won't be, but the tiny fingernails, exquisitely formed features, downy hair is all so absolutely without fault or blemish - it's amazing. And I know when a story is done because I get that same feeling. I can examine it, take it apart in every detail, read and reread it and remain almost in a state of disbelief that this piece of work originated in my brain and came from my hands - indeed, that I wrote it.

Some writers wait until their children are grown to take up the pen; for me, waiting almost killed me - I cannot do that again. Instead, I'm among those who manage to find a way to birth and raise stories along with children synchronously. There are many challenges to overcome and many hurdles to vault to accomplish goals and achieve some kind of balance between it all. I don't believe it's easy for any of us. I do it because both make up a large part of who I am and what's important to me; knowing in the end both my stories and my children will step into the world and if I've done a good job they will stand on their own.

Carrying, birthing and raising a story is as much as part of me as carrying my children was when I was expecting. There are sacrifices, decisions and priorities. It's physically and emotionally draining and one learns to live with being tired some days. Insomnia often strikes as the story begins mid-night calisthenics with ideas flowing forward as it stretches and kicks me into getting up and madly writing in my notebook. I know from experience if I don't do this and just enjoy the feeling of all these great thoughts I'll spent the next 3 weeks trying to recall them and they will never be as vivid or as perfect as this moment of clarity, no two moments, sentences or thoughts being alike. And so I write them down and later tweak them, rewriting them and adding to them until they are complete whole beings.

I loved being pregnant. I love my children; to create is to breath and to write is akin to being with child - It's simply part of who I am.

Note: The black and white photo's ones I took of my youngest son playing at the park (summer 2009). The colour photo of me at the bottom was taken by my friend Jerome. 

Part 1: The Birth of a Story Inception

Outlines work fine, if you already know the story. Which is precisely why they don't work for me; I approach my writing from the other end, preferring to create the story from the inside out. Writing those initial draft(s) to find out what the story's about is like walking when you're pregnant - it helps with the delivery. This fact I can attest to, having given birth 3 times.

In it's inception the story has the potential to go in any direction it chooses on the unwritten slate of my subconscious womb. Writing out everything initially coming to mind is part of the pairing process. This is where the DNA from my subconscious and the physical production of something concrete begins. The story begins to take form as I learn more about the characters and who they are. Their wants, desires and flaws emerge along with it's heartbeat; the core around which the story revolves, the problem, the stakes and the solution, allow for the pruning of earlier ideas and irrelevant details to begin. And this cell death results in the separation of fingers, toes and the formation of organs into distinct functioning parts.

It's at this point the outline starts to appear along with it's various layers, themes and story threads. Finally giving birth to a healthy piece of writing to be revised and polished - raised if you like.

About the photos: A sail boat in the straight between Vancouver and Vancouver Island taken from the ferry (top). My eldest son watching over the rail (bottom). Pictures taken in 2005.

The Headache of a Synopsis

Sipping afternoon tea I ponder the current projects I have on the go and the post Cow Girl in New England had on her blog this morning. It was by guest author David Bridger, whose just had his book "Beauty and the Bastard" published. Now, although his book is not something I would be interested in as it's totally not my style, his post was interesting. It was all about writing a synopsis and how he writes it as he goes rather than trying to condense the whole novel into something manageable at the end.

A synopsis is what a writer sends to an editor along with a cover letter and the first 3 chapters of their novel (depending on the publishers submission requirements). It shows the editor what the story arc is, where it's going and how it ends. An important piece all things considered.

I've always found synopsis writing to be an interesting and daunting task. Interesting because everyone has a different idea of how to write one and what the outcome should look like. Daunting because it is pure hell to try and condense a 67,000 word story into 2 pages. Attempting to figure out what details to put in and what to cut, especially when the story has 4 main characters and 3 narrators! AND, of course, it's supposed to be written in the same style as the novel.

Despite those difficulties, I have written a synopsis for my novel and I am fairly happy with it. I wrote it between February and March 2009. Actually, I drafted 3 different synopsis and wound up doing something similar to the process Bridger describes. My first, the long synopsis, was 10 pages single spaced. The second, the short synopsis, was 4 pages. finally paring it to 1.5 pages after that. Of course, each editor's view is subjective so there is still no guarantees and I know I will be rewriting it yet again as I revise my work (or at least tweaking it).

High Gear

My creativity peaks and dips, providing a natural balance to my life, and when I'm at my most creative I find strange things happen. I wake up in the middle of the night and begin to write in my head, knowing I have to do something about it; half- asleep, I stumble out with my notebook in hand, curl up in my chair  (after kicking the dog out of it - the plus side is it's always warm) and write. I can't think of anything I've done in the wee hours that has been uninspired.

Sometimes I get up multiple times; thinking I'm done, I crawl back into bed and get settled only to have new ideas for wording, sentence structure or story twists, spring to life and demand my attention.

Other weird things happen too, like my present urge to write horrible poetry (I'm really not that good at it), try strange word combinations (like fireweeds red sky - since went does fireweed have sky?) and risky content.

How is it I get these creative urges and deal with the exhaustion of my mid-night rampages? They come through my immersion into writing, the more I write the more creative I get. Sure, somedays I don't feel like writing as much those are the dips, but I do it anyway; I must. I go for a walks. I let my thoughts wander and soon I must write something down, my being demands it with every breath. I sit type, erase, and type anew. I start with the easy stuff, the things I know. It doesn't matter where I start, it comes. Writing begets more writing and after a midnight binge I often awake early feeling refreshed and energized.

And, as I prepare to begin my busy summer schedule on Monday, I know it will be my writing which helps balance and ground me, keeping me from losing myself in the rush of the everyday.

Adieu for now - poetry is calling (weird).

Roots

It is very satisfying to discover the roots of a story. But, until now this weekend, I never really thought of characters as having roots other than the ones I deemed necessary for the story.  I have recently been reading "The Art of War for Writers," by James Scott Bell. It's full of strategies, tactics and exercises. What I like about it is that it's written in short sections which are easy yo fit into my day. It reminds me of things I already know and it gives me ideas on how to structure my writing time and things to try which will improve my skills. The exercises are very much open ended and apply to whatever project I have on hand.

On one section it mentions getting to know your characters by having them tell you about themselves, pg. 116. The first draft of my novel is incredibly rough and as I'm beginning work on it again, I wanted to get to know some of the characters a bit better. In order to do this I asked Lila, one of the main characters, to write me a letter and tell me about herself and her family. Especially as I came across some pointers in "The Art of War for Writers" about inner and outer conflict as well as outer action and inner reaction and I need to know my characters a lot better to make that work to it's fullest.

I discovered that one learns interesting things when actually conversing with ones characters, despite making them up. I was surprised to learn that Lila is the main character, Mira, in another short story I wrote about 5 years ago which is currently sitting in pieces because I have been unable to sew the pieces back together. She told me this was her story. She told me her father left and went back to England when she was 4 and that she only saw him in bits and pieces and never understood it until she was forced to spend a summer with her paternal grandfather after he died, when she was 11. The story, "Changing Tides," is about how she came to understand him and found her roots. She also told me she's pissed off that I put her in a novel with Sauri. I love it when my characters surprise me :)

About the photograph: The roots of this tree grow beside the trail going up Tunnel Mountain in Banff, AB.