Let's Pretend

            All over the world, children pretend.  Even without toys, children will “play act,” pit good guys against bad guys, make-believe they are grownups, play house, invent dialog, and live in an imaginary world from time to time.

            Little girls have dolls and dollhouses, and you often see them dressed up like fairy princesses, heading into the grocery store with their parents.  Little boys build elaborate cities for their cars and trains, create scenarios for their action figures, and dress up in capes and toy guns to fight evil.

            We grow up and stop playing with toys, but we never lose that wonderful enjoyment of make-believe.  Sit down in any theatre and you are surrounded by people who have agreed to suspend disbelief for two hours, while someone takes them to an imaginary place via plays or movies.  It takes us no time at all to accept this invitation to pretend with the writers, and be swept into their created world.

            It’s absolutely the same with reading.  We curl up with a great story, and set aside our real-life concerns (we know they’ll be waiting for us, when we return).  And off we go to explore a jungle, fight pirates on the high seas, fall in love, solve a mystery, conquer in battle, save a life.  We’re willingly lost in a fictitious tale, perfectly content to be led wherever it takes us.

            Even people who don’t read respond this way to the promise of an exciting story.  Look how people perk up when someone says, “Guess what I just heard!”  It may be gossip or breaking news of a burglary down the street, it’s doesn’t matter.  It promises drama and intrigue, and people gather round. 

            Scientists claim that there are certain basic human needs—safety, shelter, food, water, even acceptance.  But I believe they left one off the list: The need to pretend.  Have you ever been at a library during reading time for the kids?  Who’s in the background?  Adults with no children!  They noticed the story being told, the pages being turned, and they stopped to watch.  It’s as if no one under the sun can resist the line, “Once upon a time…”  And that, my friends, is your job: To fascinate, to entertain, to answer that basic human need for make-believe.  What a wonderful choice you made.

Book Signings

           You've done it.  You finally finished your manuscript, got it sold, edited, bound, and delivered.  It's in the bookstores and it's even on the right shelf (no small feat, that one).  Now the tough work of marketing begins.
            Most writers detest marketing.  We'd rather be concocting stories and crafting characters.  We bristle at the thought of pushing our stuff on Facebook and Twitter, and we agonize over the business side of writing.  But guess what?  It has to be done.
            Yes, I suppose if you're wildly famous, you don't have to do anything but crank out another best seller.  Everyone knows who you are and thousands of fans have eagerly been anticipating your next novel. Your publisher does all the PR for you.  But for most of us, it's time to roll up our sleeves and sell.
             And part of that, if you're lucky, is doing book signings.  They can be as uncomfortable as somebody else's underwear, as you sit there tapping your pen and waiting for someone to approach you.  You notice a customer glancing at your poster, their lips moving as they read who you are and what you've written. And then they walk away.  It's like being at a Speed Dating event and seeing someone deliberately skirt around your table so they don't have to meet you.
            Another customer watches this awkward moment, catches your eye, and smiles.  Pityingly.  You want to hightail it out of there, go home and eat a bowl of ice cream, and call someone who actually cares about you.  You could be spending this time writing!  You steal a glance at the clock.  Another hour to go.  Agony. More pen tapping.  You sit up straight and try to have good posture so that at least you won't look like the shlub you feel like.
            So why do we put ourselves through this? For two reasons.  First, we do it for the bookstore managers.  When somebody walks into their store and asks them to suggest a book, you want yours to come to mind.  You want to be the nice writer who came and made their store look important.  You signed some books so they can tout autographed copies to potential buyers.  In short, you did them a favor, and now your book stands out in their mind.
            But second, you just might have that wonderful experience of readers lining up, eager to meet you and tell you how much your book meant to them.  Or that you're their favorite writer of all time.  Or that their sister is exactly like one of your characters.  You get to connect with people who took a portion of their lives and spent it with people and ideas you created.  What a compliment.  What a joy.  What a blessing.
            So, if you're lucky enough to be offered a book signing, take it.  You may have some painful moments, but be grateful you were even asked to be the guest author that day.  It's not only the price you pay for writing a book, it's a thank-you gift for doing so.  

Avoiding Cliches Like the Plague

                Next time you need a very long game to occupy you on a very long road trip, or at a very boring party, take turns listing clichés.  I’m guessing this game could take you into the next century, as there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of clichés that we writers need to avoid.

                Writers do it when they can’t think of their own clever turn of phrase, or when they get in a hurry and stop paying attention.  It’s lazy, it’s cheap, and we all know it.  Of course, clichés swirl around us like bad odors— unfortunately we get so used to them that we don’t notice them creeping into our work.  I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve found clichés in my work, and you might make the same shocking discovery in yours—hopefully before any of them get published.

                So let’s make ourselves a promise: Let’s re-read our writing one more time with the express purpose of finding—and eliminating—clichés.  Here are a few that annoy me the most; you’ll have your own list: 

Woefully anything, painstaking anything, mother of all anything, never a dull moment,  Litmus test, the fair sex, without further ado, throw under the bus, on the same page, for all intents and purposes, cross that bridge when we come to it, dot the I’s and cross the t’s, the world is your oyster, the unvarnished truth,  walking on egg shells, far be it from me, everything but the kitchen sink, signed, sealed, and delivered, every jot and tittle, all the gory details, run it up the flagpole, greatest thing since sliced bread, hale and hearty, neither here nor there,  long arm of the law, an offer he couldn’t refuse,  in less than no time, more than meets the eye, let’s get this show on the road, the little woman, shoot from the hip, waiting for the other shoe to drop, thunderous applause, ace up his sleeve, well-heeled, long in the tooth, cooking the books, it remains to be seen, selling like hotcakes, your guess is as good as mine.

A good exercise would be to make a list (or use mine), then try to describe the same thing with completely different wording.  It will teach us to be deeper thinkers, more clever wordsmiths, and more quotable writers.  Who knows-- maybe a turn of phrase that you generated will  catch on and become so popular that someday you’ll see it on a list of clichés. You may not be able to burn your bridges or bite the hand that feeds you, but you can laugh all the way to the bank, find that every dog has his day, and might even leave a killer legacy to die for.

Are You Right- or Left-Brained?

           You don't have to look far to find people who will tell you writers are strange people.  Everyone who knows us, certainly everyone who's married to us, can tell you this with much eye rolling and nodding, for emphasis.
           We stare out the window and claim to be working (and this is true), we spend hours staring at a computer monitor, we claim to be listening to our loved ones but are, in fact, on another planet.  However, what many people don't realize-- and even writers themselves don't often realize-- is that most of us are hybrids.
           The vast majority of careers out there require someone who is right- or left-brained.  If you're a left-brained thinker, you are analytical, organized, logical, and sequence-oriented.  These folks do well with computers, accounting, math, science, law, and engineering.
           Right-brained thinkers, on the other hand, are emotional, creative, social, and intuitive. They make good artists, chefs, salesmen, designers and entertainers.
           Most folks think writers are right-brain folks, because we're creative.  But guess what?  Language, spelling, grammar and reading all fall under the left brain column.  Following through, being disciplined, and having a keen eye for detail-- absolute keys to writing success-- are also left-brain traits. Right-brainers are sensitive, daydreamy, and passionate.  Hmm... writers need to be those things, too.
           So we're actually a blend.  If you're too left-brained, you will lack the poetry, romance, and creativity to get swept away in a fictional story.  You'll prefer nonfiction and documentaries. But if you're too right-brained, you might be too disorganized ever to outline or finish your story and submit it for sale.
           Just for fun, take a few free online tests, and see if you tend to one side or the other.  Chances are, you're a hybrid-- just enough of each side to make writing the best career choice for you.