Here We Go Again …

There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who write blog posts and those who are trying NaNoWriMo … again. (If you don't know about NaNoWriMo, see my earlier posts about it.) See you on December 1.

NaNoWriMo Redux

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) once and get it out of their systems; and crazy people, like me, who vow to participate every year. I haven't done it in a while—not really, anyway. The last couple of Novembers I've made half-hearted attempts, but have given up pretty early on in the process.

So why do I think this year will be any different? I don't necessarily. But I do know that I haven't been doing much (read any) of my own writing for quite a long time. And that's a bad thing. Firstly, because I miss it. I think about writing all the time. I've a got million ideas, and at least 100,000 of them are pretty good.

And that's the thing. Writing ideas are a dime a dozen. You can have thousands of great ideas. It's the execution of the thing that matters. Until you put fingers to keyboard and try to translate that great idea into a story, you just don't know if it will pan out into something real.

Next, I feel like I'm in a different place in my writing. This year has taken a toll in a lot of ways, but it's also allowed me to let go of some things that I was holding onto for the wrong reasons. As I have absorbed these changes (some might call it growth, but that seems a little grandiose; others might call it giving up, but that seems a little pessimistic), I see some lessons that might apply to my writing.

Letting go is tough job. I think it's one of my worst things. I think my inability or failure to let go has held me back in my writing. So, it's time to see what happens when I really let go. When I stop trying to control everything and let the characters and the plot take over.

This is where I think NaNo can really help. There's just no time to be controlling. You have to meet your word count. To do that, you can't keep going over and over the things you already written, patting yourself on the back for your brilliance or agonizing over your complete lack of talent. All you can do is get in your 1,667 words a day and move on. Sometimes, that's all you can do in life—put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, that's all you can do in writing—put one word down after the other.

So, here we are. I'm already a bit behind (big shock), but I'm trudging along at 8,760 words instead of the 13,333 I would need to be on target as of this moment. But I like my idea; the words are not exactly pouring out of me, but they're coming. I know there are other things I should be doing. I know. So don't lecture me. I don't pretend that I'll have anything very good at the end of the month. But having anything at all is better than nothing. It's definitely something.

It's just too bad that I can't add the 535 words in this post to my word count. Hmm, that would bring me up to 9,295. Not bad.

Wake Up

Not long ago, my friend Hey-It's Mike Anderson posted a visual two-kinds-of-people gag on my Facebook Wall. It may or may not have been the image above (I couldn't find it on my feed), but that's not important. What's important is the thing Mike wrote along with the image: "I miss the blog." Hundreds of Several A few other people "liked" his post.

Now, before you go getting all up in my face about how immodest it is for me to tell you this, let me just say that, as a writer, this is probably the best thing anyone has ever said to me. It means that someone READS MY STUFF. And misses it when I'm not writing. This is huge. HUGE, I tell you.

It's also motivating. Not motivating in the sense that I immediately wrote a new post or anything. But motivating enough that I'm finally getting around to it just a few short weeks (months? Mike?) after the gentle nudge. Again, in writer-procrastination time, that is immediate.

You see, half the reason I haven't been posting here is that I have a lot of other work that I'm supposed to be doing. So, I haven't been writing. Of course, that doesn't mean the other work is getting done, it just means that I was leaving open that window of opportunity to do it, you know, eventually.

But, I miss writing when I don't do it. I miss my legions dozens couple of readers, and was frankly thrilled to discover they actually exist.

So, today I'm posting. If you're one of the two (kinds of) people who read this blog, thank you. Leave a comment so I know you stopped by.

I also submitted two poems (I've been told I'll hear whether they've been accepted in two to six months, so don't hold your breath). Who knows. Maybe I'll even get some of that other work done. Thanks Mike. Now look what you've gotten me into.

Image credit: Bubble Gag. Nudge credit: Mike Anderson

The Joy of Blooming Late

Welcome today's guest writer (and fellow late bloomer), Janice Deal, author of the new collection of short stories The Decline of Pigeons, released today by Queen's Ferry Press.

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who bloom early, and those who bloom late. 

Conventional wisdom has it that truly creative works come from the energy, the hope, and the exuberance of youth. But conventional wisdom is wrong.

Youth Is Served 

It's easy to find examples of people who flourished at a relatively young age. We need look no further than Picasso, whose best work came when he was young. Just 20 when he painted “Evocation: The Burial of Casagemas,” Picasso went on to create many of the greatest works of his career by the time he was 26. Consider also T.S. Eliot, who wrote “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” when he was 23. John Lennon’s haunting “In My Life,” a paean to love and loss, was written at the ripe old age of 25.

The Glory of the Late Bloomer 

But for every John Lennon, there is an Alice Munro, publishing her first book at 37. And then there is Alfred Hitchcock, who directed classics “Dial M for Murder,” “Rear Window,” “To Catch a Thief,” “The Trouble with Harry,” “Vertigo,” “North by Northwest,” and “Psycho" between his 54th and 61st birthdays, as Malcolm Gladwell references in his 2008 New Yorker piece, "Late Bloomers.” Gladwell believes that youth doesn’t corner the market on incandescent work. He notes: “Some poets do their best work at the beginning of their careers. Others do their best work decades later. Forty-two per cent of [Robert] Frost’s anthologized poems were written after the age of fifty. For [William Carlos] Williams, it’s forty-four per cent. For [Wallace] Stevens, it’s forty-nine per cent.”

My Story

As a late bloomer myself, I appreciate and celebrate those artists who found their voices years after they hit drinking age. I am “young” in many ways: God help me, but my favorite store is Hot Topic, where my 11-year-old daughter and I buy the T-shirts (Walking Dead, Doctor Who) that make up the balance of our wardrobes. But according to the calendar, I’m getting long in the tooth: born the day Martin Luther King gave his “I have a dream” speech, I’m looking 50 straight in the eye.

I do things…late. I married years after many of my college friends had already tied the knot; my husband David and I had our beloved daughter Marion well into our 30s; I went back to graduate school and pursued a degree in library science after years as an editor. And I didn’t start writing until I was in my 30s. In fact, I dropped out of a creative writing class in college (taught by a gifted poet and instructor), because I didn’t feel as though I had anything to say. It wasn’t until I took a continuing education class, as a lark, out of Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois, that something clicked for me: I had something to say. I was 30 years old. And then it took me almost two decades to define exactly what that was.

 

My instructor at Northwestern, Fred Shafer*, saw something in my work and invited me to join a writing workshop he held out of his home. And then I started writing in earnest: eking out stories after work, on weekends, at night. Stories started getting published; I won a grant; we had a child, and David and I decided we’d love it if I could stay home, and write, and hang out with our kid. More stories were written, and I kept sending them out. My pace is glacial: one story got 33 rejections before The Sun picked it up (thank you, Sy Safransky). But slowly, stubbornly, I started building up a backlog of short stories that worked together. The stories carried a common theme, loss; something we all experience if we live long enough.

Living and Losing

But why could Lennon write about loss when he was still in his mid-20s? It could be argued that he’d had a hard life, that he was an old soul. Lennon’s backstory hints that both those suppositions are likely true. But complementing them are theories such as the one posited by University of Chicago economist David Galenson, who believes early-blooming artists like Lennon are “conceptual” in nature: that is, they start with a clear idea of where they want to go, and then they just do it.

Galenson, discussed in Gladwell's article, contrasts conceptual artists with what he calls experimental artists, who “build their skills gradually over the course of their careers, improving their work slowly over long periods.” Lennon could write about loss when he was 25, but it seems I had to do some living before I could.

As I turn 50, I have faced some challenges—job loss, illness, death—that I couldn’t conceive of decades earlier. Loss can inform people, season them, and make them tough and compassionate. And it can lead to art: I was learning about the craft of writing even as I learned about life. As Gladwell notes, “Experimental artists build their skills gradually over the course of their careers, improving their work slowly over long periods . . . Prodigies are easy. They advertise their genius from the get-go. Late bloomers are hard. They require forbearance and blind faith.”

Who Is in Your Corner?

If you are a late bloomer, you need someone in your corner. As Gladwell says, “If you are the type of creative mind that starts without a plan, and has to experiment and learn by doing, you need someone to see you through the long and difficult time it takes for your art to reach its true level.” In my case, I had a gifted teacher, Fred Shafer, who encouraged me and helped me grow in my writing. I had friends, fellow writers, who were learning and growing along with me, and who encouraged me. And I had a life partner, my husband David, who believed in my writing—believed in me—even though it took me years to get more than a handful of stories published in literary journals.

I’m just shy of my 50th birthday and Queen’s Ferry Press is publishing my first collection of stories, The Decline of Pigeons, under the thoughtful guidance of publisher and editor Erin McKnight. Some artists are born mature: precocious “old souls” who possess insights and create beautiful, meaningful work at a young age. I admire that, but my path has been different. For me, for my writing, there has been no substitute for experimentation, and living.


What is your path?

(*ed. note: Fred Shafer will be teaching for four weeks at Off Campus Writing Workshop in Winnetka, Thursday mornings beginning September 12, 2013. Nonmembers welcome.)

Janice Deal is the author of The Decline of Pigeons, a short story collection to be released by Queen’s Ferry Press, July 16, 2013, and a finalist in the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction. Six of the nine stories, which detail the sometimes bitter, sometimes transcendent ways that people cope with the inevitability of loss, have appeared in literary magazines including The Sun, CutBank, the Ontario Review, The Carolina Quarterly, StoryQuarterly and New Letters. She is currently working on a novel, and is the recipient of an Illinois Arts Council Artists Fellowship Award for prose. Janice lives in Downers Grove, Illinois, where she watches zombie movies with her husband and daughter.

Photo credits: Moon Flower by AshleyRandallDances via a Creative Commons License

Many Ways of Going Forward

There are many ways of going forward, but only one way of standing still. — Franklin D. Roosevelt

Bet you can guess the theme of this post—there are two kinds of people in the world: those who move forward, and those stand still.

A few years ago, I realized that to avoid being left in the dust of the horserace that is writing, I had better start moving forward. It was a good call. In the five years since I started writing this blog, here are just of few of the changes that have taken place:

• Amazon has taken over the world (at least the retail world, and certainly the book-selling world).
• Borders shut its doors.
• Self-publishing has gone from "vanity publishing" to a method embraced by even heavy-hitting authors.
• E-publishing has grown exponentially, with one in four Americans now owning a tablet, and one in five owning a dedicated e-reader.
• Americans live online—at least 244.1 million (or 76.5%) of us do.
• Blogging has changed from online personal diaries to big business, with even the largest, most respected media outlets and companies boasting at least one, often many blogs. "Blogger" now really just means "writer".
• Social networking has co-opted both networking and socializing.
• We've gone app-crazy—in December 2008, there were about 10K iPhone apps; by January 2013, there were more than 775,000, and that doesn't even count all the other apps for all the other platforms now available. 

You get my point. I was right (I love being right) about how quickly the world of writing was changing—and continues to change. Then why are so many writers still stuck with the myopic vision of publication that reigned for all those decades before the Internet took hold?

I talk to a lot of writers and I honestly believe the number one reason is fear. Fear of change. Fear of technology. But mostly fear that their long-held dream won't come true. You know the dream: being a best-selling, critically acclaimed author published by a big-name house, toasted by the glittering literati, celebrated on national talk shows, and holding court over admiring fans at champagne-laced readings all over the world.

OK, that dream won't come true—at least not for most writers. But it never did come true for most writers. Here's the good news: in the new world order of publishing, there are so many more dreams that are possible for so many more writers. If you are an excellent writer willing to work hard, you can become a published author. You can write online for your business. You can blog about your travels or your hobby or your passion. You can write a book and people will be able to read it in a real live paper version or on their favorite readers.

But you can't do it standing still. And you shouldn't do it unless you have a plan and get to know what's going on out there in the publishing world.

Five years ago, I started this blog with nary a clue as to what I was doing. Then I jumped into Facebook. And Twitter. And Pinterest. And WordPress—first .com and then .org. I learned some code. I learned what worked and what didn't. I started giving classes on social networking. Last fall, I conducted a successful Kickstarter campaign to fund the production and printing of my first picture book, the Animal Store Alphabet Book. I started with a great idea, a fabulous illustrator, and a 21-page business plan. Hard-cover copies of that book came to life on January 1 of this year and today children and bookstores and libraries have copies of it.

Now I'm excited to be teaming up with the dynamic April Eberhardt, a self-described "literary agent for change". We're pooling our collective knowledge and experience, coupling it with our enthusiasm for the ever-exciting, ever-changing world of publishing, and bundling it together into a workshop that we call Pathways to Publication: Choosing the Best Way to Reach Your Readers.

If you want to take a step forward, I hope you'll consider joining us on June 7 in Chicago (the day before Printers Row Lit Fest). Click here for more information and to register. Special thanks to Karen Gray-Keeler and Where Are We Going for supporting this project.

As excited as I am about all these possibilities, and before I started any of this, I learned how to write…because no matter which path you choose, it's the writing that counts.

Have you taken a step off the dime? How are you moving forward?

Them's Fightin' Words

There are two kinds of people in the world: risk takers and scaredy cats. I've been thinking a lot about taking more risks as a writer. I think it's key, at least for me, to be braver, less coy, unafraid to come out from behind my protective armor. It's time for me to stop caring so much about what people will think of me because they might not like something I write. That being said, let's start again.

There are two kinds of people in the world: balls-out risk takers and chicken shits.

There. Do you hate me yet? The funny thing is that I swear like a sailor in real life, but somehow it seems…rude…in print. Using profanity in my writing, however, is not what I'm talking about when I say I need to take risks.

So, in an effort to be less chickenshitty, I'm opening the doors and windows of my comfortable writing home and stepping out into the big bad writing world. I'm joining new groups and exposing myself to new experiences. Like Write Club.

Here's what their website says about Write Club:

WRITE CLUB is bare knuckled lit.
WRITE CLUB is literature as blood sport.
WRITE CLUB does good without being annoying about it.
WRITE CLUB eats trouble and shits money.
WRITE CLUB is coming to your town.

2 opposing writers.
2 opposing ideas.
7 minutes apiece.
Audience picks a winner.
Writers compete for cash going to a charity of their choosing.

Here's what I say about Write Club:

It's kind of like debate team meets poetry slam—part preparation, part performance. And it's risky. The writers/performers take a risk. They put themselves and their writing out there for the world—or at least the audience—to cheer … or not. There is a winner and a loser.

In case you haven't figured it out by now, Write Club is a take off on the movie Fight Club. Now, I've never seen Fight Club, but even I know the first rule:



Write Club has rules, too, and the first rule is that everyone who attends must tell five to seven people about Write Club.

Here are the other rules.

Consider yourself told.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, no, I have not (yet) stepped into the Write Club ring. But I'm working my way up to it, since it seems that it might be the ultimate expression of Two Kinds of People.

Write Club got its start here in Chicago, and now has chapters in Evanston, Atlanta, Athens (GA), San Francisco, and Toronto. The next bout in Evanston is this Monday, May 6, 7:00 p.m. at Space. In Chicago, the next bout is at The Hideout, Tuesday, May 21, 7:00 p.m. Other cities, check your local listings.

Writers, what brave steps have you or are you taking in your writing? Other folks, are you taking any bold risks in your life these days?

P.S. And just because I'm this much of a word nerd, I looked up the origin of them's "fightin' words." Looks like the phrase was first used by Ring Lardner (a fellow Michigander) in Gullible's Travels c. 1917.

George Saunders, Stephen Toblowsky and Me

There are two kinds of people in the world, and I have been all of them. Infantile and wise. Majestic and wretched. Crestfallen and elated. Gracious and a horse’s ass. I have been these people and many, many more.

As a writer, this duplicity or plurality of being is important on many levels. Obviously, it's the name of my blog—Two Kinds of People (or 2KoP). I find that it’s a perfect vantage point from which to explore a whole variety of subjects in my writing—a sort of literary springboard.

I’m a self-admitted public radio (NPR) junkie, and two recent interviews have generated some writerly “ah-ha” moments that have made me understand that my interest in “Two Kinds of People” has something to offer all writers … read more on Write It Sideways.

[This post was originally published on Write It Sideways on March 25, 2013.]

Wordless Wednesday #10: Jolly Roger?

Each week, I post a photo and give you ways to participate:

1. comment on what Two Kinds of People ideas it inspires. ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .") 
2. comment with your guess where the picture was taken (bonus points for correct answers).
3. Use the photo as a writing prompt. If you write something and post it, be sure to leave a link in the comments so we can find it. You may repost the photo (please include ©2012 Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). 

If you have a graphic that has 2KoP Wordless Wednesday potential that you would like to share, let me know.

(And for more Wordless Wednesday fun, check out our weekly posts on The Animal Store blog.)

Wordless Wednesday #9: Into the Mystic?

Each week, I post a photo and give you ways to participate:

1. comment on what Two Kinds of People ideas it inspires. ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .") 
2. comment with your guess where the picture was taken (bonus points for correct answers).
3. Use the photo as a writing prompt. If you write something and post it, be sure to leave a link in the comments so we can find it. You may repost the photo (please include ©2012 Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). 

If you have a graphic that has 2KoP Wordless Wednesday potential that you would like to share, let me know.

(And for more Wordless Wednesday fun, check out our weekly posts on The Animal Store blog.)

Wordless Wednesday #6: James Paradiso

©James Paradiso, 2012

This fabulous Wordless Wednesday prompt comes to you from fellow writer and amazing photographer James Paradiso. Check out his photo gallery. How does this image inspire you? Here are two suggestions:

1. comment on what Two Kinds of People it brings to mind. ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .") 
2. Use the photo as a writing prompt. This photo appears on 2KoP with permission from James Paradiso. If you choose write something based on this photo and want to post it, please contact James first for permission and information on how he would like to be credited. Be sure to leave a link in the comments so we can find your creation. 

(Check out our weekly posts The Animal Store blog for more Wordless Wednesday fun.)

Wordless Wednesday #4: Friendly Giant?

Each week, I post a photo and ask you to comment on what Two Kinds of People ideas it inspires. ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .")

Or, use the photo as a writing prompt. If you write something and post it, be sure to leave a link in the comments so we can find it. You may repost the photo (please include ©2012 Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). If you want to know more about the picture, ask.

(And for more Wordless Wednesday fun, check out our weekly posts on The Animal Store blog.)

Wordless Wednesday #2: Stubborn?

Each week, I post a photo and ask you to comment on what Two Kinds of People ideas it inspires. ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .")

Or, use the photo as a writing prompt. Write something creative and leave a link in the comments so we can find it. You may repost the photo (just add my copyright ©Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). If you want to know more about the picture, ask.

I swore to myself the I'd have another 2KoP post up before Wordless Wednesday #2. Note to self: don't swear. If you want good ideas for your own blogs, though, I recommend to posts on Write It Sideways:

Not Just Another Writer's Writing Blog by Susan Bearman (c'est moi)

Is A “Niche” Or “Non-Niche” Blog Right For You? by Sarah Braughman

Wordless Wednesday #1: Magic?

Magician at Pike Place Market in Seattle, 2010. ©Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People

Welcome to the first edition of Wordless Wednesday, Two-Kinds-of-People-style. Each week, I'll post a photo and ask you to comment on what Two Kinds of People ideas it inspires. (Start with "There are two kinds of people in the world: …", then finish that thought based on the photo.)

I also invite you to use the photo as a writing prompt. Take it and run with it. Write something creative and link back to this post. Feel free to repost the photo (just add my copyright ©Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). If you want to know more about the picture, ask.

Full disclosure: the idea came from two of my favorite inspiration blogs:

Strangling My Muse by Sandy Ackers
Leaving the Zip Code by Amy Zimmerman

If you want more visual inspiration and haven't yet visited Pinterest, check it out (but only if you have lots of free time). Have fun.

Third Annual Two Kinds of People Essay Contest

Contest closed. Results soon.

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who do things once or twice, and those who create an annual event. The 2KoP guest post essay contest is now officially an annual event.

Top Five Reasons You Should Submit

1. Your own personal Two Kinds of People idea has not been written about here on 2KoP. We all know two kinds of people. If yours has been glaringly absent from these pages, now is your chance to correct the situation.
2. Writing is Fun — you know it is. Every time you read something on the Interwebs, you know you can do it better. So do it.
3. There are prizes. Yep, real, honest to goodness prizes, including (but not limited to) the publication of the winning essay right here on 2KoP for all the world to read.
4. Because I'm a mother and I said so.
5. Fame, glory, the envy of your peers. No cash. Absolutely none. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Need some inspiration? Check out the winning posts from the First Annual (Murray Abromovitch) and Second Annual (Deborah Carroll) contests. For writing tips, you can read mine and other good ones at Write It Sideways.

The Rules

1. Because writers (at least this writer) works better under a deadline, please submit your guest post via email by midnight Central Time on February 16, 2012 (that's three weeks; plenty of time, but not too much.)
2. All entries will be read blind by a panel of judges, including me, and the winner will be the essay with the most votes.
3. Winning essay will be announced by February 23, 2012 (unless I get a million, which I hope I do, and then it may take a little longer).

That's it. Get busy. Get writing. Good luck. I can't wait to read your submissions. (Insider tip: it's the dead of winter around here, so a little humor couldn't hurt, if you know what I mean.)

The Prizes

Don't forget the prizes, which will include (at least):

\

• an official 2KoP logowear item, possibly the tote bag shown above. (Very sturdy and attractive, if I do say so myself.)
• a copy of the original The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr.
• your very own published guest post here on 2KoP
• a gift card to The Animal Store (The pet shop my husband owns in Lincolnwood, IL; I haven't actually asked him for this yet, but I'm pretty sure I can convince him.)

Objects in Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

There are two kinds of people in the world, and I continue to have a blast writing about them. Looking back, I find that 2011 has been like most years — filled with strains and disappointments, hard work and constant struggle, dotted here and there with the occasional bit of good news and a delicious belly laugh or two. It was a year that both crawled and flew by, and I find my sense of time has morphed into a sense of vertigo.

After years of waiting for life to "get better", I think I've finally figured out that it just gets different. Changes come, some welcome, some un.

Catherine Wallace, a frequent speaker at OCWW, my writers' workshop, once explained that the best way to provide feedback to a writer is to ignore less than perfect writing and concentrate on the parts that shimmer. Her idea is that by pointing out what works best, the writer will return to the mental place that produced the good writing and use that to revise and improve the rest.

I don't know that I believe this is always the best method of critiquing a piece of writing, but do I think it is an excellent way to review the outgoing year. By leaving the negative in the past (where it belongs), and dwelling on the parts of 2011 that shimmered, I hope to be able to bring those sparkly bits forward with me into the New Year to make it a better one.

For me, writing is almost always the best part of my year. I learned a lot in 2011 and have many (too many!) projects in the works. Each effort inspired me to become more creative, more open to making connections. As the year progressed, my sense of what is possible seemed to explode. Thanks to people like literary agent April Eberhardt, I began to believe that the changes in publishing were not death throes, but growing pains. Changes and more changes, some wanted, some un. But with change comes opportunity, if you choose to see it that way.

So here are a few of the writing treasures from 2011 that I plan to carry with me to improve my efforts in 2012:

January — Helped launch my client's website for her new business, Where Are We Going. It has been thrilling to work with Karen Gray-Keeler as she has transformed her passion and avocation into a business. Her energy and creativity are infectious.

February 18 — 14,239 people stopped by to read about Isaac and Molly on the Mike&Ollie blog. I started this blog during National Novel Writing Month 2010 to jump start my memoir about raising 24-weeker premature twins. The blog was picked as Freshly Pressed by WordPress and got more than 40,000 hits in five days. The feedback I got was amazing. Now all I need to do is finish the memoir.

June — Designed and wrote the content for a WordPress-based website for a client, micro mosaic jewelry designer Wendy Gray Raven. Trained her and her daughter how to manage the site and developed a strategy for the blog, connecting her website to her Etsy shop. Becoming more expert in the tools available on WordPress.

March 15 — My first post went up on the Garanimals Blog. Now, once a week, I get to write about pets and animals for an audience of moms, working with an incredible group of bloggers and the amazing Amy Zimmerman. Who knew that being a Reluctant Pet Store Owner would lead to such a great opportunity.

May — Proved that relationships built on the Internet can transform into real-life friendships deeper and more important than most people think possible. It's a reinvention of old-fashioned pen pals with the added advantage of instant gratification. Here's a shout out to my girls: Victoria Flynn, Christi Craig, Julie Jeffs and Rebecca Rasmussen. Great writers, fantastic women.

May 12 — Presented at the annual meeting of Fraternity Communications Association on how to improve print communications for membership-based organizations, and critiqued back issues of many of the group's magazines.

June — Taught a creative writing camp with eight young writers aged 7-11 through the Evanston Arts Camp, thanks to Angela Allyn. Their enthusiasm and curiosity inspired my own writing in unexpected ways and I'm looking forward to the sequel in 2012. (Registration is open now for the Writers' Workshop, pg. 5, camp #922213C2)

June 2 — Ran the first of several social networking workshops, this one on Facebook for beginners. Email me for information on upcoming workshops or to set up a private session.

September 19 — migrated The Animal Store Blog over to WordPress in preparation for the launch of the new website (coming very soon). Found a new voice for the blog, Ernie the Giant Gourami, who has lived at the store since before Kenn bought it 20 years ago. I am understanding more and more that writing is all about voice.

November — "won" NaNoWriMo for the second year in a row (see my winner's badge to the right) by pushing out 50,000 words in a first draft of a new novel. I continue to learn the lesson that you cannot, should not, must not write and edit at the same time.

December — Named as a regular contributor to the Write It Sideways blog. Starting in January through June, I'll be posting twice a month about my favorite subject — writing. Along the way to this assignment, I contributed three guest posts to this great writing website: Hearing Voices? Maybe You're a Writer, How to Bring Your Characters into Focus, Writers Write — Creativity Is a State of Mind. Thanks to Suzannah for this exciting opportunity to expand the writing conversation.

These are just a few of the high points for me. I have more projects in the pipeline that promise to make 2012 a year that truly shimmers. I look forward to sharing it with you, and hope your new year shimmers as well. Look for the third annual Two Kinds of People Guest Post Contest to be announced soon. Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment about one or two of the glittering moments from 2011 that you plan to carry with you into 2012.

Look in Thy Heart, and Write

"Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: 

 'Fool!' said my muse to me, 'look in thy heart, and write.'" 

 — Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586)

There are two kinds of people: those who celebrate literature and those who take it for granted.

November abounds with opportunities to celebrate the craft of writing and the joy of literature. My 2KoP readers may think I haven't been doing much writing, but that's not the case. I simply haven't been writing here. It's all good, and I'll be sharing more soon.

Last November, I participated in my first National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I had no idea what I was doing and, in fact, decided to work on a memoir instead of a novel (making me a NaNo Rebel — not bad for my first time out). And I won. What did I win? Well, nothing. Oh, I got that nifty little badge in my sidebar that says I'm a 2010 NaNoWriMo winner. I made some cool, supportive writing friends. And I have an excellent start to my memoir. Just a start.

I've signed up for NaNo 2012 and am well on my way with a new project — a mystery. Why am I starting something new instead of working on last year's project? Well, that's a complicated question, but thanks for asking. The short answer is, that's not the NaNo deal. NaNo participants agree to start a brand new project on November 1 and commit to writing at least 50,000 words in 30 days. Is there a NaNo enforcement department that will hold you to that commitment? No. But here's what I think.

Writer-types like me tend to do better when under deadline. Given gobs of time, we fret and agonize over word choice and characterization and plot twists and … nothing gets done except the fretting. Committing to NaNo is an opportunity to turn off that inner editor (or agonizer) and just get the words out. You see, there are many, many steps to the writing process, and each one requires a different set of skills:

• generating ideas
• getting down the bones
• rewriting
• revising
• starting over
• rewriting
• revising
• revising
• agonizing
• polishing
• getting critiques
• crying
• putting it in a drawer for a while
• looking at it again with fresh eyes

And that's just the first step. NaNo is the perfect time to execute bullet point #2 (getting down the bones). Just getting your ideas out on the page fast, without trying to make it perfect, can be a huge creative rush. There is plenty of time to agonize about how terrible it is when you reread and rewrite in December.

For picture book writers, November is also PiBoIdMo (Picture Book Idea Month), where you commit to generating one picture book idea every day, for a total of 30. Some people believe that discovering the idea is the hardest part of writing, but think about having 30 ideas to work from at the end of the month. Nobody said they all have to be good.

For those writers who feel too constrained by the "rules" of NaNoWriMo or PiBoIdMo, SheWrites.com founder Kamy Wicoff has issued a much broader challenges called SheWriMo, where the big idea is to make a daily writing commitment (your choice) and sticking to it. That's a little too squishy for me, but I appreciate the concept.

My friend Mary Beth recently commented on my Facebook post about my NaNo progress: "I know that your numbers stand for words. And just 'cause I'm feeling kind of left out because I do not have a novel in me, whenever I see your number count, I'm going to write a number."

I haven't figured out what her numbers mean yet, but I have figured out that maybe November is just a great month for goal setting. Even if you're not a writer, I hope you're a reader. Maybe you could take this month to set a daily reading goal.

Here's one more opportunity to celebrate: November is also Picture Book Month. I'm a big believer in the importance of picture books and read alouds, both for children and adults. If you're with me, you can become a picture book ambassador. Check out the website for daily posts from different authors about why picture books are important to them. Whatever you do this month, I hope it includes a celebration of words.

Photo credit: WASTEBASKET © Lksstock | Dreamstime.com

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who go to summer camp and those who don't.

In a camp experience that keeps on giving, my husband and his brother frequently talk about the summer they went away to sleepover camp. They say they hated it. Their mother claims they loved it. They argue about it regularly at family holiday meals.

My own children went to over-night camp sponsored by our local Y. The camp is in Michigan and they all loved it, starting the summer after third grade until we ran out of money and could no longer afford to send them. (Once again, the youngest child gets ripped off, with only two years of camp under his belt. Sadly, we won't be able to afford his therapy bills, either.)

One year when I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to go away for two weeks to Camp Metamora in Michigan with my Girl Scout troop. Unfortunately, I announced this to my parents the day before the final payment was due in full. I don't remember how much it was, but from the look on my mom's face, it must have been astronomical.

Ever-practical, my mother said that, while she appreciated my desire to go away to summer camp, it was a big expense that we had not planned for. If they allowed me to go to sleep-away camp, the rest of the family would have to give up any form of summer vacation and that wouldn't be fair. I pouted. "But," she said, "If you really want to go, you can start saving up your money now for next summer and if you can save up half, Daddy and I will pay the other half." I wish I had that kind of parental discipline with my kids.

Camp Metamora never happened, but not because I couldn't save up the money. All my friends who went that year hated it. It rained, it was cold, the food was bad, there were bugs. They hated it.

While my more well-to-do friends suffered through overnight camp, I went to a Girl Scout day camp that involved a 40-minute bus ride each way. I don't remember where it was, but I do remember that we rode past a big cemetery and all lifted our feet off the floor of the bus when we passed so the dead souls couldn't get us. The girls were from in and around the greater Detroit-metropolitan area and all were new to me.

I loved that camp. I remember one girl in particular, Judy Martin, was very nice, and her mom was one of the leaders. We made s'mores and god's eyes and lanyards. We played Red Rover and sang camp songs. We hiked and played on the playground. But the best part of day camp for me was the bus ride.

A tiny African American girl sat on the seat across from me the first day. I later found out that her name was Selena McGee, but for the first three days she just stared at me. I had very blond hair at the time, and when she finally got up the courage to talk, she asked if my hair was made of real gold and if she could touch it. From that day on, Selena spent all our time on the bus playing with my hair — brushing it, styling it and, long before Bo Derek, putting it in corn rows. It was like have my own personal stylist aboard a mobile beauty parlor.

This year, for the first time, I'm teaching a creative writing camp for 7-11 year olds through our city's Cultural Arts Program. It's an afternoon-only day camp and I have eight campers, all girls. In the grown up writing world, this would be called a writing retreat and it would cost a fortune.

Just like my childhood day camp, we play games, sing songs, and make crafts. Only the games we play are improv or story-based games; and the crafts we do include making our own journals, decorating book bags, and writing letters with feather quills. We also write poems, pick a word of the day, and take weekly walking field trips to the library and beach. My brother calls it Geek Camp. I call it a blast. The camp combines all my favorite things — writing, teaching, books and kids (who go home at the end of the day).

I remind my writers, as we head to the library or beach or playground, to use all their five senses. When we get back, we try to write down five sensory details that we noticed along the way. We talk about what it means to be a writer:

• writers write
• writers support each other
• writers ask questions
• writers pay attention to details
• writers read

Each time I remind my campers of these writerly attributes, I remind myself, too. We work on our long stories in a "Stinky First Draft" spiral binder (with a tip of the hat to Anne Lamott), because writers write. When one of us shares her writing, we give three Likes and a Wish:

"I like the main character's name."

"I like the detail of the fluffy pillow right in the middle of her bed."

"I like that I could almost smell her birthday cake baking."

"I wish I knew more about her two best friends."

We use this method of critiquing because writers support each other. We choose a word of the day that is new to most of us, because writers ask questions. We note our delicious details in our journals, because writers pay attention. 

And each day, I read aloud to them, because writers read. On Friday, we finished our first read aloud, called A Beginning, a Muddle and an End by Avi, a book full of plays on words and serious ideas about the writing process. I hadn't read this book in a long time, and was delighted to rediscover one of my favorite bits of writerly advice. Edward the Ant tells his would-be author friend that if he wants to attract readers, then he shouldn't write writing, he should write reading. Brilliant. I wish I had written it.

Below is a silly Dr. Demento animation of Allan Sherman's camp classic, Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah. After you watch it, click here and leave a comment about your own camp experiences.

Photo credit: roasting marshmallows by jenny.nash712 via a Creative Commons license.

Strength in Numbers

"You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an inner exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world." 

— Sheila Graham, writer/performer (1904-1988)

There are two kinds of people in the world: the isolationists and the joiners. This comes pretty close to the crux of my whole Two Kinds of People philosophy. I spent close to 25 years as an isolationist, waiting for the world to discover the greatness of me. Never happened.

In my late twenties, I dibbled and dabbled, taking a class here and there, but still not really becoming part of a community. It wasn't until my twins were born and a neighbor dragged me to a Mothers of Multiples (MOMs) meeting that I finally understood the idea of strength in numbers, in shared experiences and common ground. 

My own mom was never much of a joiner, and I believe my early aversion came from a sense that groups that you had to join were all about exclusion, not inclusion. That can certainly be true. Even in my little MOMs group, if you didn't have more than one baby at a time, you couldn't be part of the group, which is too bad, because I learned most of the good things I know about how to be a parent from that group. 

But joining doesn't have to be about exclusion — it can be about creating and belonging to a community. In thinking about how I changed my joining tune, I turned (as I usually do) to the dictionary and found my perfect definition of community in the online version of the MacMillan Dictionary (definition #4): "the feeling that you belong to a group and that this is a good thing."

It is a good thing to belong. Since I figured that out, I have started a book club, been PTA president, and become a member of the board of a long-running writers' workshop, just to name a few groups. And now … now there is the Internet. Geography is no longer the delimiter in defining community. We can create virtual communities.

There are those (my Dad) who think we've come to far. There are those who doubt the veracity of an online community — isolationists who see the Interwebs as nothing more than a playground for perverts and procrastinators. Not true.

The online writing community, in particular, is one of the most vital. Just spend 15 minutes lurking at #yalitchat on Twitter and you'll discover a worldwide group of adults passionate about the creation of literature for young adults. Or follow #amwriting or #kidlitchat or #author.

Now I'm going to tell you my little story about how virtual became reality. About two years ago, I stumbled upon something called SheWrites.com. I was fairly new to Facebook and brand new to Twitter and trying to figure out the whole social networking scene, which seemed vast and uninviting, harder to crack than even the tightest PTA cliques (you know who you are).

I signed up for SheWrites. I joined a group called Chicago Area Writers. Nothing. Then I joined, on a whim, a group called Mother Writers. The group's "owner", E. Victoria Flynn, reached out to me in welcome. We swapped some info and she became one of my first Twitter followers. On my first "Follow Friday", she sent a shout out to her Twitter pals inviting them to follow me and suddenly I was in.

I've "met" hundreds (probably thousands) of people on Twitter and now have more than 900 followers of my own, but there's a kind of core group that has developed and we've become friends on SheWrites and Facebook, as well as on Twitter. If you're confused by all this tech talk, don't worry; I'm getting the the real part. Over time, my crew has been very supportive of each other's writing efforts and one of us, the beautiful and talented Rebecca Rasmussen has seen her first novel, The Bird Sisters, through to publication. We were all so excited. Really.

Then we heard that she was going on a book tour, just like a real author. And then we heard that she was coming to The Book Stall, a fabulous, still independent, still open book store in Winnetka, IL. And we hatched a plot. Our group would meet at for cocktails and dinner or whatever and go together to hear Rebecca read from her new novel. We would travel from around the midwest: Victoria (of Penny Jar) from Madison; Christi (of Writing Under Pressure) from Milwaukee; Julie (of Beginning a Life at 50) from Nashville; and our celebrity author (of The Bird Sisters Blog) from St. Louis.

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans and good intentions and all that. It usually doesn't work out. Except when it does. Like this time. Maybe it was because we didn't have to do it, that everyone would have understood if the thing fell apart. But I think it's because we stopped lurking and joined in. We created a real community. It started out virtually and transformed each of us quite literally. I can't wait for our next book launch. Wonder which of us it will be?

At The Bookstall, from left — Rebecca Rasmussen, Julie Jeffs,
E. Victoria Flynn and Christi Craig. (Where am I? Taking the
picture, of course.)

I'd been planning this post for some time, but the writing of it was prompted by the She Writer Blogger Ball Re-Re-Redux, another opportunity to meet and greet and join. Click on the little bookshelf image at the top of this post and join in the fun of a blog hop. No membership dues required, although your comments are always appreciated (here and on the other blogs you visit).