Celebrating Perserverance: Come Share Your Story!

Although you will find me mostly on my author's blog here, I wanted to share this post with all of you who have not yet subscribed to it (please check it out!)

Today I am happy to be part of Writers Persevere!, an event that
authors Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi are running for the next few days to
celebrate their release of their newest book, The Emotional Wound Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Psychological Trauma.
This book looks at the difficult experiences embedded in our character’s
backstory which will shape their motivation and behavior afterward. 

Because Angela and Becca have spent the last year exploring painful human struggles, they wanted to highlight a very important aspect of overcoming difficult circumstances: it can make us stronger. I promised to let Angela hijack my blog
today, so please read on!

***

Hi everyone! When you set out to find examples of
inner strength, you don’t have to go very far. Right here in the writing
community we see it every day. Writers more than anyone understand the swirl of
emotions as we work toward publication. We dream of making it and seeing our books in the hands of readers…yet doubt and
frustration can be a constant companion. For us, there is a lot to learn, much
to steel our nerves for, and unfortunately, a host of real-world problems that
can try to derail us. And, even as we slowly move forward and grow, we
can sometimes feel like impostors. This is a tough road.

But the fact that writers face this battle,
day after day, and KEEP GOING…this should be celebrated! We need to be reminded
that we are much stronger than we sometimes believe. We dream, create, and
force ourselves to keep striving. Through the ups and downs, we persevere!

Have you encountered something on the
writing road that made you question yourself? Have you faced an obstacle that
required a force of will to get past?

If so, we want to hear about it! Join Becca and me at Writers
Helping Writers from October 25-27^th, where we are celebrating
writers and their stories of perseverance. Stop in, and tell us about a
challenge or struggle your faced, or if you like, join this event by writing a
post on your own blog and share it using the hashtag #writerspersevere.  Let’s
fill social media with your strength and let other writers know that it’s
okay to question and have doubts but we shouldn’t let that stop us. 

GIVEAWAY ALERT! 

We also have a prize vault filled with items
that can give your writing career a boost, so stop by Writers
Helping Writers. I would love for one of you to win something that will
help you get closer to your goal!

If you struggle, remember to reach out to others. We are in this together, and by supporting one another, we cross the finish line
together (and then keep going!). 

Happy writing!

Angela and Becca

Tool # 50: Own the tools of your craft.

. . .Build a writing workbench to store your tools.

We now come to the last chapter in "Writing Tools" by Roy Peter Clark. A very helpful summary, but difficult to condense!  Here we go:

"I've designed this final chapter as a guide for you to build a workbench to store your writing tools. So far, I have organized these tools into four parts. We began with nuts and bolts, things like the power of subject and verb, emphatic word order, and the difference between stronger and weaker elements in prose.

     From there we moved to special effects, ways of using the language to create specific and intended cues for the reader. . . The next part offered sets of blueprints, plans for organizing written work to help bothe the writer and the reader. . .This last part coalesced earlier strategies into reliable habits, routines that give you the courage and stamina to apply these tools. . .

     One final step requires you to store all of your tools on the shelves of a metaphorical writer's workbench. I began learning how to do this back in 1983 when Donald Murray, the teacher to whom this book is dedicated, stood in front of a tiny seminar room in St. Petersburg, Florida, and wrote on a chalkboard a blueprint that forever changed the way I taught and wrote. It was a modest description of how writers worked, five words that revealed the steps authors followed to build any piece of writing. As I remember them now, his words were:

     IDEA.

               COLLECT.

                                  FOCUS.

                                                 DRAFT.

                                                                 CLARIFY.

In other words, the writer conceives an idea, collects things to support it, discovers what the work is really about, attempts a first draft, and revises it in the quest for greater clarity.  .  . Here's my annotated version:

Sniff around. . .all good writers express a form of curiosity, a sense that something is going on out there, something that teases your attention, something in the air.

Explore ideas. The writers I admire most are the ones who see their world as a storehouse of story ideas.  They are explorers, traveling through their communities with their senses alert, connecting seemingly unrelated details into story patterns. . .

Collect evidence. I love the wisdom that the best writers write not just with their hands, heads, and hearts, but with their feet. . .The great Francis X. Clines of the New York Times once told me that he could always find a story if he could just get out of the office. . .

Find a focus. What is your essay about?. . .Get to the heart of the matter . . .Getting there requires careful research, sifting through evidence, experimentation, and critical thinking. . . 

Select the best stuff. One great difference stands between new writers and experienced ones. New writers often dump their research into a story or essay. . .Veterans use a fraction, sometimes half, sometimes one-tenth of what they've gathered. . . A sharp focus is like a laser. It helps the writer cut tempting material that does not contribute to the central meaning of the work.

Recognize an order.  .  . What is the scope of your work? . . .Working from a plan, the writer and the reader benefit from a vision of the global structure of the story. . .

Write a draft. Some writers write fast and free. . .other writers. . .work with meticulous precision. . .But here's the key: I once believed that writing began with drafting, the moment my rear hit the chair and my hands hit the keyboard. I now recognize that step as deep in the process, a step that becomes more fluid when I have taken other steps first.

Revise and clarify. Don Murray once gave me a precious gift, a book of photographed manuscript pages titled Authors at Work. In it you. . .watch as the novelist Honoré de Balzac write dozens upon dozens of revisions in the margins of a corrected proof. You can observe Henry James cross out twenty lines of a twenty-five line manuscript page. For these artists, writing is rewriting.

     Sniff. Explore. Collect. Focus. Select. Order. Draft. Revise.

     Don't think of these as tools. Think of them as tool shelves or toolboxes. . .

A blueprint of the writing process will have many uses over time. Not only will it give you confidence by demystifying the act of writing. . .provide you with big boxes in which to store your tool collection, but it will also help you diagnose problems in individual stories. . .account for your strengths and weaknesses. . . and build your critical vocabulary for talking about your craft, a language about language that will lead you to the next level.

We have now come to the last WORKSHOP:

-With some friends, take a big piece of chart paper and with colored markers, draw a diagram of your writing process. Use words, arrows, images, anything that helps open a window to your mind and method.

This is my final post focusing on the formal craft of writing. I hope you have found useful these chapter tidbits from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

From time to time, I am inspired by an event, film or book that begs to be commented on. In future posts, I will share my insights, which I hope will prove to be meaningful. Until then, is there any topic that would resonate with you here on my blog? What would you like to see posted here?

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Tool #47: Recruit your own support group.

. . .Create a corps of helpers for feedback.

". . .In the real world, writing is more like line dancing, a social function with many partners. . .

     You must create a system of support both wide and deep. If you limit yourself to one classroom teacher or one editor, you will not get the help you need. You must create a network of friends, colleagues, editors, and coaches who can offer feedback--and maybe an occasional feedbag.

Roy goes on to suggest later that we:

"Work on developing the support system you need and deserve." 

And he then lists the kinds of people he needs:

* A helper who keeps me going.  For years, my teaching partner Chip Scanlan has played this role for me, especially when I am working on a long project. . .He says to me, over and over again, "Keep going. Keep writing. We'll talk about that later."

* A helper who understands my idiosyncrasies. All writers have quirks. The fleas come with the dog. . .My wife, Karen, understands this. While I cower under the covers with my dog Rex, she sits at the breakfast table, crunching her Rice Chex, reading my story in the paper and making sure no unforeseen horror has appeared. "All clear," she says, to my relief.

* A helper willing to answer my questions. For many years writing coach Donald Murray has been willing to read my drafts, and he begins by asking me what I need from him. . .My response might be, "Is this too Catholic?" or "Does this seem real enough to publish as a memoir?" or, "Just let me know if you find this interesting." 

* An expert helper to match my topic. My current interest often dictates the kind of helper I need. When I wrote about the Holocaust, and the history of anti-Semitism, I depended on the wisdom and experience of a rabbi, Haim Horowitz. When I wrote about AIDS, I turned to an oncologist, Dr. Jeffrey Paonessa. Such people may begin as interview subjects, but the deeper you get into a topic, the more they can turn into sounding boards and confidants.

* A helper who runs interference. Joyce Barrett blessed me with her assistance for twenty years. I especially remember the morning she came to work, saw that I was writing, closed my office door, and put a motel-style Do Not Disturb sign on the handle. . . .

* A coach who helps me figure out what works and what needs work. For more than a year, an intern named Ellen Sung edited a column I wrote for the Poynter Web site. She could articulate the strengths of a column, ask great questions that would lead to revisions and clarifications, and framed negative criticism with persuasive diplomacy."

He ends with this paragraph:

"You may choose these helpers one by one, but over time they form a network, with you at the center. You may address them as a group via e-mail or ask them in various combinations to help you solve a problem. You can test the criticism of one against the wisdom of another.  You can fire one who gets too bossy. You can send another flowers or a bottle of wine. It's good, on occasion, for the writer to be the king--or queen." 

Now put this tool to use in the WORKSHOP:

--Look at the six categories of helpers described above. Make a list of six people who might be able to serve you in these capacities. Rehearse a conversation with each with the goal of expanding your network.

I hope you found useful this chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Next week I feature another of Roy's "Useful Habits": "Limit self-criticism in early drafts."

Writing Tool #45: Break long projects into parts.

 . . . Then assemble the pieces into something whole.

Anne Lamott's book Bird by Bird gets its title from an anecdote about her brother.  At the age of ten, he struggled with a school report on birds.  Lamott describes him as "immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead," but then, "my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, 'Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.'

     We all need such coaching to remind us to break long projects into parts, long stories into chapters, long chapters into episodes.  Such advice is both encouraging and practical. . .Tiny drops of writing become puddles that become rivulets that become streams that become deep ponds.

Then Roy speaks from his own experience:

You are now reading Tool 45-- in what was once a yearlong online series -- headed for Tool 50.  If I had said to my editors, "You know, I'd like to write a book of writing tools, "I never would have done the work.  At the front end, book projects seem impossible to get your arms around, like hugging a polar bear.  Instead, I pitched the writing tools project as fifty short essays, delivered at the rate of one or two per week. . . 

Bird by bird, tool by tool, line by line.

Let's put this tool to work in Mr. Clark's WORKSHOP:

- Admit it. You want to write something bigger than you've ever written before, but you can't get your arms around the project.  The length or breadth of it intimidates you.  Cut up the monster.  In a day book or journal, break it up into its smallest parts: chapters, sections, episodes, vignettes.  Without referring to any note or research materials, write one of these small units.  See what happens.

I hope you found useful this chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Next week?  "Take an interest in all crafts that support your work."  Join us!

Tool #42: Do your homework well in advance.

. . .Prepare yourself for the expected--and unexpected.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.  This last section of chapters is entitled, "Useful Habits."

"That great writing coach Prince Hamlet said it best: 'the readiness is all.' Good writers prepare for the next big writing project, even if it is not yet on the radar screen,  they expect the unexpected.  Like Batman, they cinch up a utility belt loaded with handy tools.  They fill a reservoir of knowlege they can drain at a moments notice.

     Virginia Woolf argued famously that to prepare to write fiction, women would need some money and 'a room of one's own.'  Her contemporary, Dorothea Brande, describe a more disciplined form of writing preparation:

Mind you, you are not yet to write it.  The work you are doing on it is preliminary.  For a day of two you are going to immerse yourself in these details; you are going to think about them consciously, turning if necessary to books of reference to fill in your facts.  Then you are going to dream about it. . . There will seem no end to the stuff that you can find to work over.  What does the heroine look like?  Was she an only child, or the eldest of several?  How was she educated?  Does she work? (from Becoming a Writer)

She then cites novelist Ford Madox Ford, who adhered to an even more exacting regimen:

I may. . .plan out every scene. . .in a novel before I sit down to write it. . . I must know--from personal observation, not reading-- the shape of windows, the nature of doorknobs, the aspect of kitchens, the material of which dresses are made, the leather used in shoes, the method used in manuring fields, the nature of bus tickets.  I shall never use any of these things in the book.  But unless I know what sort of doorknob his fingers close on how shall I . . .get my character out of doors?

So, with these quotes, let's go on to the WORKSHOP:

-With the help of a friend, list possible big writing projects that could emerge from your specialty or area of interest.  Begin homework on these topics, preparation that will help you down the road.

Next week's excerpt is from the chapter: "Read for both form and content."  Stay tuned!

Tool #40: Draft a mission statement for your work.

. . .To sharpen your learning, write about your writing.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

We are now in the fourth and last part of the book, entitled "Useful Habits". . .

In 1996 the St. Petersburg Times published my series "Three Little Words," the story of a woman whose husband died of AIDS. The series ran for twenty-nine consecutive days and received unprecedented attention from local readers and journalists everywhere. . . 

     Good writers turn stories into workshops, intense moments of learning in which they advance their craft.  I learned more about reporting and telling stories from "Three Little Words" than from any other writing experience of my life.  I'm still learning from it.  But I did not learn how much I learned until I stumbled on a strategy I've turned into a tool: I write a mission statement for each story. 

Roy goes on later to say:

I scribbled my mission for "Three Little Words" on two pages of a legal pad.  It covers the content and the form of the story, what I was writing about and how I wanted to write it.  My mission begins: "I want to tell a human story, not just about AIDS, but of the deeply human themes of life, love, death, sorrow, hope, compassion, family, and community."  The mission statement included these goals:

(I've chosen three out of Roy's five)

• I want to portray my protagonist as a fully human character--and not some kind of cardboard saint.
• I want to do this so people can identify with and care for her and her family. It's so easy to see people with AIDS as "the other," the outcast, suffering sinners.
• I want to do this in a form--twenty-nine short chapters--that will give people a chance to know, to learn, to care, to hope.

As for the format:

• I want to restore the form of the serial narrative to newspapers--using the shortest chapters possible.
• I want to reconcile the values of short and long writing in American newspapers.
• I want to write each chapter with (a) a stand-alone quality, (b) a cliffhanger ending, (c) a sense of a new starting point.

I cannot overstate the value of this exercise.  It gave me a view over the horizon as I drafted the story.  This 250-word mission statement, which took about ten minutes to write, helped create a 25,000-word series.  It provided the language I needed to share my hopes with other writers, editors, and readers.  It could be tested, expanded, revised--and it was--during the writing process.

Roy ends the chapter with these words:

     My "Three Little Words" workshop goes on and on as I hear from readers and journalists years later.  From this distance, I see things I would have done differently: reduce the number of chapters; make the reporting and writing methods more transparent; create a straighter narrative line by eliminating one flashback.  By writing that mission statement, I not only kick-started my own learning, but I also created a path where many others could ride along.

Now, use the tool in Roy's WORKSHOP:

1. Write a short mission statement for your next work.  Use it to think about your writing strategies and aspirations.  Share it with someone else, as a reality check, and to get suggestions on how to achieve it.

2. Study some of your old pieces, especially ones you deem successful.  Write a mission statement after the fact, listing what you learned from each.

Check in next week for Roy's 41st tool: Turn procrastination into rehearsal.

Tool #39: Write Toward an Ending.

. . . Help readers close the circle of meaning.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

There are endless ways to begin and end a piece of writing, but authors rely on a small toolbox of strategies, just as musicians do.  In musical compositions, songs can build to a crescendo, or fade out, or stop short, or echo the opening.  In written compositions, the author can choose from among these, and more:

(I have listed six of the ten for you)

-Closing the circle.  The ending reminds us of the beginning by returning to an important place or by reintroducing us to a key character.

-The time frame.  The writer creates a tick-tok structure, with time advancing relentlessly.  To end the story, the writer decides what should happen last.

-The epilogue.  The story ends, but life goes on.  How many times have you wondered, after the house lights come back on, what happened next to the characters in a movie?  Readers come to care about characters in stories.  An epilogue helps satisfy their curiosity.

-Problem and solution. This common structure suggests its own ending.  The writer frames the problem at the top and then offers readers possible solutions and resolutions.

-Look to the future.  Most writing relates things that have happened in the past.  But what do people say will happen next?  What is the likely consequence of this decision or those events?

-Mobilize the reader.  A good ending can point the reader in another direction.  Attend this meeting.  Read that book.  Send an e-mail message to the senator.  Donate blood for victims of a disaster.

Roy finishes the chapter with this helpful suggestion:

I end with a warning.  Avoid endings that go on and on like a Rachmaninoff concerto or a heavy metal ballad.  Don't bury your ending.  Put your hand over the last paragraph.  Ask yourself, "What would happen if this ended here?"  Move it up another paragraph and ask the same question until you find the natural stopping place.

Get out your tools and use them to craft or edit your story in Roy's WORKSHOP:

1. Read stories, listen to music, and watch movies with endings in mind.  Pay close attention to details and themes planted early to bear fruit at the end.

2. Just for fun, take some of your recent work and and switch the beginnings and the endings.  Have you learned anything in the process?

Next week, we move into the "Useful Habits" category. . ."Draft a mission statement for your work.

Thanks for stopping by!

Tool # 38: Prefer archetypes to stereotypes.

. . . Use subtle symbols, not crashing cymbals.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

     Good writers strive for originality, and they can achieve it by standing on a foundation of narrative archetypes, a set of story expectations that can be manipulated, frustrated, or fulfilled in novel ways, on behalf of the reader.  Examples include:

     The journey there and back

     Winning the prize

     Winning or losing the loved one

     Loss and restoration

     The blessing becoming the curse

     Overcoming obstacles

     The wasteland restored 

     Rising from the ashes

     The ugly duckling

     The emperor has no clothes

     Descent into the underworld

My high school English teacher, Father Bernard Horst, taught me two important lessons about such archetypes.  First, he said, if a wall appears in a story, chances are it's "more than just a wall."  But, he was quick to add, when it comes to powerful writing, a symbol need not be a cymbal.  Subtlety is a writer's virtue.

     "The Dead," by Irish author James Joyce, is the take of a married man named Gabriel who learns at a holiday party that his wife is haunted by the memory of a young man.  Years earlier, Michael Furey had died for her love.  Countless times I have read the final paragraph:

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window.  It had begun to snow again.  He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight.  The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward.  Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland.  It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves.  It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey laid buried.  It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns.  His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

When I first read that paragraph in college, it struck me with a force that transcended its literal meaning.  It took me years to recognize the rich texture of its symbolic iconography: the names of the archangels Gabriel and Michael; the instruments of Christ's passion ("crosses", "spears," and "thorns"); the evocation of the last days ("fall," "descent," "living and dead").  The fact that these were veiled from my first view is a virtue of the story, not a vice.  It means that Joyce did not turn symbols into cymbals.

His last words of advice?  "Use archetypes.  Don't let them use you."

Now, on to the WORKSHOP:

Discuss Father Horst's advice: a symbol need not be a cymbal.  Can you find a symbol in your work?  Is it a cymbal?

Next week: Write towards an ending. . .

Tool #37: In short works, don't waste a syllable.

. . . Shape short writing with wit and polish.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer,"         published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

In the ideal, the author of a great big novel should not waste a syllable, but he will, and chances are, in an ocean of words, the reader will not notice.  The shorter the story form, the more precious is each word. . . 

Poet Peter Meinke taught me that short writing forms have three peculiar strengths: power, wit, and polish.  Their brevity gives short works a focused power; it creates opportunity for wit; and it inspires the writer to polish, to reveal the luster of the language. . . 

     In his column for the Charlotte Observer, Jeff Elder wrote this response to a query about the extinction of an American species:

Passenger pigeons looked like mourning doves, but more colorful, with wine-red breasts, green necks and long blue tail feathers.

In 1800, there were 5 billion in North America.  They were in such abundance that the new technology of the Industrial Revolution was enthusiastically employed to kill them.  Telegraphs tracked their migration.  Enormous roosts were gassed from trees while they slept.  They were shipped to market in rail car after rail car after rail car.  Farmers bought two dozen birds for a dollar, as hog feed.  

In one human generation, America's most populous native bird was wiped out.

There's a stone wall in Wisconsin's Wyalusing State Park.  On it is a bronze plaque of a bird.  It reads: "This species became extinct through the avarice and thoughtlessness of man."

When I asked readers to appreciate this piece, they point to its many shiny facets.  They notice:

     -"The phrase 'rail car after rail car after rail car' looks like a rail car."

     -"The words 'were gassed' carry connotations of a holocaust."

     -"The first paragraph is filled with natural imagery, but the second contains      
       the language of destructive technology."

     -"Given their extinction, it is fitting that the pigeons looked like 'mourning'  
       doves.  The author takes advantage of that coincidence."

In short writing, the reader sees the ending from the get-go.  With his ending, Elder adds a finish to the surface of the text. . .

Now, get out one of Roy's tools and put it to use in the WORKSHOP:

     -Begin a collection of short writing forms.  Study how they are written.  Make a list of techniques you could use in your writing.

Next week. . . Tool # 38: Prefer archetypes to stereotypes.

Tool # 36: Mix narrative modes.

. . . Combine story forms using the broken line.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

     Some writing tools work best for straight reports and explanations.  Others help the writer craft compelling narratives.  The author will often need tools to do both: construct a world that the reader can enter, and then report or comment on that world. The result is a hybrid, best exemplified by a story form called the broken line. . .

     Most movies are unbroken narrative lines. . .On occasion, a director will break the line of narrative for some other purpose. . .Writers can draw on dramatic literature and movies for examples of explanatory interruptions of narrative action. . .Think of the stage manager who addresses the audience in countless high-school productions of Our Town by Thornton Wilder. . .

     That is the secret and the power of the broken line.  The writer tells us a story, then stops the story to tell us about the story, but then returns to the story.  Imagine this form a a train ride with occasional whistle stops, something that looks like this:

---------------[Inform]--------------------[Analyze]-------------------[Explain]--------------------»

                                                              Narrative Line

 Roy then gives a few examples from early literature:

To many, Moby Dick feels like two books: the tragic story of a crazed sea captain's search for a deadly whale, interrupted time and time again by explanations of whaling and the humdrum life of sailors.  Even Huckleberry Finn describes a journey down a river, a narrative line with several landings along the way. . .

     The broken line is a versatile story form.  The writer can begin with narrative and move to explanation, or begin with straight information and then illustrate the facts with an anecdote.  In either case, the easy swing, back and forth, can feel like clockwork.

Now put to use a tool from Roy Clark's toolbox:

-As you read or write fiction, pay attention to the way information and explanation mix with narrative.  Notice if facts are blended into the story or framed as separate elements.

Next week: Tool # 37: In short works, don't waste a syllable.

Tool #35: Report and write for scenes

. . . Then align them In a meaningful sequence.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Tom Wolfe argues that realism, in fiction and nonfiction, is built on "scene-by-scene construction, telling the story by moving from scene to scene and resorting as little as possible to sheer historical narrative."  This requires, according to Wolfe's manifesto in The New Journalism, "extraordinary feats of reporting,"so that writers "actually witness the scenes in other people's lives."

     That advice was offered more than forty years ago, but adherence to it still makes eyewitness storytelling seem new.

BAGHDAD, Iraq--On a cold, concrete slab, a mosque caretaker washed the body of 14-year-old Arkan Daif for the last time.

With a cotton swab dipped in water, he ran his hand across Daif's olive corpse, dead for three hours, but still glowing with life.  He blotted the rose red shrapnel wounds on the soft skin of Daif's right arm and right ankle with the poise of practice.  Then he scrubbed his face scabbed with blood, left by a cavity torn in the back of Daif's skull.

The men in the Imam Ali mosque stood somberly waiting to bury a boy who, in the words of his father, was "like a flower."  Haider Kathim, the caretaker, asked: "What's the sins of the children?  What have they done?"

This is the Pulitzer Prize-winning work of Anthony Shadid, covering the war in Iraq for the Washington Post, practicing a form of immersion journalism, getting close to the action, capturing scene after bloody scene.

Using this example for inspiration, Roy suggests strapping on your tool belt, and getting to work in the WORKSHOP:

-Try an exercise created by Tom French.  With a group of friends or students, view an interesting photograph or portrait (French favors Vermeer).  Although these images are static, the writer must place details in an order that the reader can follow.  Write a scene describing each image, then compare your work.

Next week, Tool #36: Mix Narrative Modes. . .combine story forms using the broken line.

Tool #34: Write from different cinematic angles

. . .Turn your notebook into a camera.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book, "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Before there was cinema, writers wrote cinematically. Influenced by the visual arts--by portraits and tapestries--authors have long understood how to shift their focus in and out to capture both character and landscape.

Here are Roy's examples:

• Aerial View. The writer looks down on the world, as if standing atop a skyscraper or viewing the ground from a blimp. Example: "Hundreds and hundreds of black South African voters stood for hours on long, sandy serpentine lines waiting to cast their ballots for the first time."

• Establishing shot. The writer stands back to capture the setting in which action takes place, describing the world that the reader is about to enter, sometimes creating a mood for the story. Example: "Within seconds, as dusty clouds rose over the school grounds, their great widths suggesting blasts of terrifying force, bursts of rifle fire began to sound, quickly building to a sustained and rolling roar."

• Middle distance. The camera moves closer to the action, close enough to see the key players and their interaction. This is the common distance for most stories written for the newspaper. Example: "Scores of hostages survived, staggering from the school even as intense gunfire sputtered and grenades exploded around them. . ."

• Close-up. The camera gets in the face of the subject, close enough to detect anger, fear, dread, sorrow, irony, the full range of emotions. Example: "His brow furrowed and the crow's feet deepened as he struggled to understand. . ."

• Extreme close-up. The writer focuses on an important detail that would be invisible from a distance: the pinky ring on the mobster's finger, the date circled on the wall calendar, the can of beer atop a police car.

Try this exercise from Roy's WORKSHOP:

--Changing camera distance and angle lies at the heart of cinematic art. Watch a favorite movie with a friend, paying attention to the camera work. Discuss how you would describe certain scenes if you had to write them for print.

Next week: Report and write for scenes. . .then align them in a meaningful sequence.

Until then. . . put the tools to work, and keep on writing!

Tool #32 Place good coins along the path.

. . . Reward the reader with high points, especially in the middle.

Today, I am featuring another chapter from Roy Peter Clark's book,"Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company.

Think of a gold coin as any bit that rewards the reader.  A good start is its own reward, and crafty writers know enough to put something shiny at the end, a final reward, and invitation for the readers to return to their work.  But what about the territory between beginning and end?  With no gold coins for motivation, the reader may drift out of the forest.  Yet I've never met a writer, even a great one, who was praised for a brilliant middle--which is why the middle receives so little attention. . . 

Roy goes on to give three examples:

A gold coin can appear as a small scene or anecdote: "A big buck antelope squirms under a fence and sprints over the plain, hoofs drumming powerfully.  'Now that's one fine sight,' murmurs a cowboy."

It might appear as a startling fact: "Lightning. . . is much feared by any mounted man caught on the open plain, and many cowboys have been killed by it."

It can appear as a telling quote: "Most of the real cowboys I know," says Mr. Miller, "have been dead for a while."

These three gold coins appeared in a prize-winning story on the dying culture of the cowboy, written by Bill Blundell for the Wall Street Journal, a newspaper that takes the act of rewarding the reader seriously--and sometimes humorously.

And now, put what you have learned to use in Roy's WORKSHOP:

1. Take a draft you are working on and identify the gold coins.  Draw a star next to any story element that shines.  Now study their placement and consider moving them around.

2. Find the geographic middle in some pieces of your writing.  Is there a gold coin in sight?

For more useful Tools from Roy Peter Clark's book:

 You can find a copy here.

Tool #31: Build your work around a key question

. . . Stories need an engine, a question that the action answers for the reader.

Today, I am featuring another chapter from Roy Peter Clark's book,"Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Who done it?  Guilty or not guilty?  Who will win the race?  Which man will she marry?  Will the body be found?  Good questions drive good stories.

     This narrative strategy is so powerful that it needs a name, and Tom French gave it to me: he calls it the "engine" of the story.  He defines the engine as the question the story answers for the reader.  If the internal cliffhanger drives the reader from one section to the next, the engine moves the reader across the arc from beginning to end.

In the same edition ( Roy's local newspaper) I read a much more serious story about tsunami survivors in Sri Lanka:

In the pediatric ward of the town hospital here, Sri Lanka's most celebrated tsunami orphan dozes, drools and, when he is in a foul mood, wails at the many visitors who crowd around his crib.

His identity is unknown.  His age, according to the hospital staff, is between 4 and 5 months.  He is simply and famously known as Baby No. 81, the 81st admission to the ward this year.

Baby No. 81’s awful burden is not in being unwanted, but in being wanted too much.

So far, nine couples have claimed him as their own son.

This story raises questions in our minds, which Roy asks:

What will happen to Baby No. 81?  Will we ever learn his name and identity?  Who will wind up with Baby No. 81, and why?  How will they determine the true parents among conflicting claims?

The newspaper article (first appearing in the New York Times) raises questions of its own, including, as Roy suggests, "the story's higher meaning:"

Could it possibly be that nine couples honestly believe Baby No. 81 to be their flesh and blood?  Could it be that childless parents are looking for a boon amidst the disaster?  Could it be that a photogenic baby boy has inspired a craving that a girl would not haven.  All these theories circulate on the streets of Kalmunai.

Later, Roy invites us into his WORKSHOP to use a tool:

-Look for engines in films and television narratives.  Does an episode of  I Love Lucy have an engine?  How about an episode of Seinfeld, which is supposed to be about "nothing"?  How about one of the many police procedure dramas?

Stop by next week for Tool # 32: Place gold coins along the path.  Hmmmm. . . Sounds intriguing, no?

Tool # 29: Foreshadow dramatic events and powerful conclusions.

. . .Plant important clues early.

Today I am featuring another chapter tidbit from Roy Peter Clark's book,
"Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Not long ago, I saw a movie that reminded me of the power of foreshadowing. Clues planted early in the story offers what a dictionary definition describes as "vague advance indications" of important future events.

In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, terrible events are reversed at the end when Hermione reveals to Harry her ability to travel back in time by means of a charm she wears around her neck, a time turner. On first viewing, the plot twist comes as a surprise. Watching the film a second time, I notice how often the director makes reference to time, especially in visual images of huge pendulums and giant clockworks.
For novels and movies, it may require several readings or viewings to appreciate all the effects of foreshadowing. . .

In dramatic literature, this technique inherits the name Chekov's Gun. In a letter he penned in 1889, Russian playwright Aton Chekhov wrote: "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it."


Hmmmmmmm. . . definitely food for thought!

Now, try one of Roy's Workshop activities:

• Until now, you may not have noticed the technique of foreshadowing in movies, fiction and dramatic literature. Now that you have a name for it, look for examples.

Do you use foreshadowing in your writing??

Tool #28 Put odd and interesting things next to each other.

. . .Help the reader learn from contrast.

Today, I am featuring another chapter from Roy Peter Clark's book,"Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer," published by Little, Brown and Company. You can find a copy here.

Ironic juxtaposition is the fancy term for what happens when two disparate things are placed side by side, each commenting on the other.

Consider this introduction to the Philadelphia Inquirer's story of the nuclear accident at Three Mile Island:

4:07 a.m. March 28, 1979

Two pumps fail. Nine seconds later, 69 boron rods smash down into the hot core of unit two, a nuclear reactor on Three Mile Island. The rods work. Fission in the reactor stops.

But it is already too late.

What will become America's worst commercial nuclear disaster has begun.

What follows is a catalog of terrible truths that officials will learn, along with harrowing details: "Nuclear workers playing Frisbee outside a plant gate because they were locked out but not warned of the radiation beaming from the plant's walls." The suspense that builds from those first short sentences reaches a peak when the failed nuclear reactor produces radiation that bombards workers playing Frisbee. Radiation meets Frisbee. Surprising juxtaposition. 

And now, take a tool from Roy's WORKSHOP, and put it to use:

-Feature photographers often see startling visual details in juxtaposition: a street person wearing a corsage, a massive sumo wrestler holding a tiny child. Keep your eyes open for such visual images and imagine how you would represent them in your writing.

Have you ever noticed ironic juxtaposition in a modern art piece?

Stay tuned next time for Tool #29: Foreshadow dramatic events and powerful conclusions.