This Is the Stuff Books Are Made Of

Call me sentimental because it's graduation weekend, and mother's day (hi, Mom!), but the only thing I could think to blog about this week is this — life is full of good things that need to be appreciated, even amidst all the struggles.

That's quite a topic, you're thinking. And yes, it is! But the end of things often bring a time of reflection,  and often a little bit of nostalgia and sadness. Yet endings also let you realize just how great things have been; and how great they are.

This week, I have just been so overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, encouragement, and celebration I've received. But as I thought about it, that support is not limited to this week. It is not limited to graduation celebrations or words of congratulations. In fact, I've received support throughout my two years in grad school, and in many other times in my life (but for the sake of this post I'm going to focus on grad school). A multitude of people have helped me get through grad school, and though they may not realize it, their contributions were essential, however small they might seem to them. An email, a word of encouragement, a cheer when another assignment was completed, a "you can do it" when I felt like a I couldn't anymore — they were all important, and they were all greatly appreciated.

This week is an easy week to be appreciative. Times of celebration can make everything look good. But really, sometimes the truth is I simply do not stop to appreciate the network of encouragers I do have. In the busyness of life, I forgot that this shouldn't be taken for granted. I miss the love that's happening all around me because I'm too focused on getting myself to the goal.

But with school now over, as I bask in the tremendous amount of support I've recently received, I realize that this is the stuff I need to be cherishing. I need to soak it in. We all do. We need to relish the friendships and the laughter, this time in our lives that will never come again, and the people who are there with us as well as the people who helped get us to where we are.

All this might sound sappy, and I'm not going to lie. I can be a pretty sappy person. But for writers, this goes way beyond sentimentality. Beause this is the stuff that life is made of. And, therefore, this is the stuff that books are made of. Real relationships. Real feelings, good and bad. Complicated, co-existing emotions. Struggles. Wants. Hard work. Tears. Moments of joy followed by feelings of 'now what?' Celebrations. Encouragements. Long days. Life questions. Chasing dreams and holding loved one close. Telling people 'thank you'. Letting yourself cry in front of someone else. Trying your best when you might feel you have no idea what you're doing. And rejoicing in the love that exists all around you.

See, I may be writing this as a currently deeply grateful and hapy graduate, but I am also trying to keep my eyes wide open — to see this moment and chisel it into my mind; to lock this unique moment away in my mind to use for later. Writers not only need to observe, but writers need to live. We need to live in our moments and learn from our experience and hone all of our feelings and observations and truths and questions into our craft so that our characters are alive and our emotions are tangible.

So whoever, and wherever you are, look around. Take inventory of your life. Feel this moment. And then use it. Writing is important, but life should come first. For without it, there's really nothing to write about anyway.

A Love Letter to My Graduate Degree

So this isn't actually a letter, but more of a reflection. A reflection on just how wonderful grad school has been, and just how much I have loved it.

You know, grad school is no joke. Sometimes reading up to six or seven books a week, writing weekly papers, working on a single project for more than half a semester, reading twenty-seven books over winter break, finishing a manuscript I had begun one semester during the summer between classes, writing and revising a complete manuscript under the guidance of a mentor, and completing another manuscript with a different mentor, the phrase "hard work" seems like an understatement. Grad school was harder than I thought it would be. And while the concepts and learning were definitely challenging, it was the sheer volume of the workload that created the highest demands .

I remember days going to work and feeling so overwhelmed with the amount I had to do and the little time I seemed to do it. Speeding through novels during my lunch hours and commute to work, saying no to plans and holing up in my room to finish all my assignments, outling, brainstorming, drafting, and creating — looking back it's kind of amazing how much I really got done. No wonder I am tired now. But in the midst of all this, during what perhaps seems unappealing and rather crazy to some, I have loved grad school. I have loved my program. And I have loved the people I've found within it.

Talking to my friend Allison last night, after she had turned in her last paper and was feeling slightly sad that school was now officially over, she said something to the effect of, "You know it's funny because I've never felt as much for a place as I do about Simmons." And the truth is I totally feel the same!

Coming to Simmons, I have found a community of people who are kind and interesting and passionate about the same things I am. I have found classes that challenge and expand my mind. I have found instructors who push and support and taught with enthusiasm. I have learned more about books I love and books I had never even heard of than I had ever imagined I would. I have been inspired. I have sharpened my writing skills. I have chased after my dreams. I have worked so incredibly hard. And I have tried to soak up every minute of it, getting the most out of this experience while it is here and in front of me. And now as it is ending, I reflect on just how good it has been, and what a blessing grad school has been to my life.

To be frank, coming to Simmons had been better than I had ever imagined. I almost attended a different school, but with a series of events pointing me to Simmons, I realize this was where I was supposed to be all along. I am so thankful for the learning I have done. I am so grateful for the support I have received. I am honored by my mentors who have given so much of their time and expertise to me. I am overjoyed with the friends I have made. This journey has been extraordinary.

Less than a week shy of graduation, I am looking forward to the celebration of hard work and good friendship. This season of life has really been a blessing — a journey I am so happy to have gone on no matter how hard it was at times. It's been a privilege, grad school. And an honor to walk alongside all of my friends and classmates.

So thank you to everyone who made these two years great. In school and out of school, I couldn't have done it without the support. I look forward to the many things just over the horizon, but cherish this part of the journey, and all the people who have walked along with me. Love to you all :)

People Who Get You: The Importance of a Writing Community

Yesterday, I gave a presentation on my mentorship from last semester and read a short excerpt from my novel Blinding. As part of my MFA's programs degree requirements, after each mentorship or independent study, students, faculty, and guests gather to hear a collection of presentations on the work us students have been doing over the past several months.

Although I wasn't nervous to give the presentation, it was something I hadn't done before. The presentation went well, and I was lucky enough to have some friends and family in the audience, but publicly standing up and reading from my novel for listening ears is not something super typical of the writing process, at least not for me in this stage. Of course, it's something I hope to do many times in the future, when my novels are hopefully published and people want you to make appearances (oh, how wonderful that sounds!), but when I left it wasn't so much my presentation that I kept thinking about. Rather, it was the presentations of my friends and fellow students that stayed on my mind.

This year, with mentorships as opposed to writing workshops, I have had less contact with my fellow writers than last year, and it's been more of a "one-on-one" intensive revision and writing process. But sitting with my fellow writers and hearing snippets of and reflections on of their projects made me think about just how important it is to have them in my life — to have a writing community, even if it may not be one that you get together with all the time.

Writing communities serve many functions. Primarily, they are thought of as places where you go and workshop your pieces, getting feedback and swapping suggestions on how to make your story better. And that's totally what happens, but there's so much more going on under the surface. Writing communities aren't just about the actual exchange of stories and suggestions — they are about support and encouragement, bouncing ideas off one another, people to listen to you vent about your frustrations with plot and character, and developing friendships with people who truly understand what you're going through as a writer; people who are right there, doing the same things themselves.

At this point, however, most of my writing happens independently. I don't have a weekly group or exclusive writing buddy who reads all my work. Mostly, I write, rewrite, and revise, send to my mentor, receive comments and then do the same thing all over again. But this change in the process, the switch from workshop to one-on-one mentorship, doesn't negate my need and importance for a writing community. Sure, I may not need the workshop right now or want someone to read all my work. But I sure as heck need the support. I need to know there are friends of mine out there doing the same thing. I need that person to call who understands what I mean when I throw around writing terminology or struggles that are just specific to writing a novel, or even writing for children. I need to see the people who have had success and those who are still seeking it to know I should be both hopeful and not in despair. I need those people who get the writing humor and have read all the same books and have grown alongside me throughout this process. This is what community is all about anyway. Not just the act of making things better, but the act of relationship: being a friend.

Although we may not all talk or exchange work all the time, the simple fact of having people that you know and care about, who are also going through what you are going through is undeniably comforting. Yesterday reminded me just how good that is. We may not have to be best friends, but we are a unique type of friends, who share something that so many people just don't relate to. And that's great. There's really no underestimation of how much support gets you through, in this area of life, and in every area of life.

It's exciting to see and hear portion's of my friends' stories at this point in their careers. Knowing that they will most certainly publish and go on to jobs in publishing houses, agencies, and many other institutions, it's awesome to know we have the bonds now, and we will always be rooting for each other along the way. One day, I'll be able to say I knew them way back when, and I still know them then. So thanks guys, for being your awesome selves and loving children's books like I do.

In Thanks — The Importance of a Mentor

This time next week, I will have turned in my final revision of my manuscript and will be anxiously awaiting for my mentor's final responses. He will annotate the manuscript, send me a letter, and I will call him on the phone — all for the final time, at least in this context. After Saturday, our cooperative work on this project will be done. And I can honestly admit, that idea seems strange.

After almost three and a half months of working together, and after I have worked on this manuscript for two months before that, somedays it seems this project has just become part of the very nature of my life. But like all projects, this manuscript is wrapping up and a new one will soon be starting. In some ways, it is time to move on, and transition into the next phase of sending it out and starting my next project. Nevertheless, I wanted to take the time to truly stop and appreciate all that I've accomplished in the past five months, and, more importantly, the person who has helped me do so.

When I found out who my mentor was in mid-August, I was overjoyed to have the privilege of working with someone who had accomplished so much in his career and who, I was certain, had much wisdom to share. It turns out I was right. I truly could not have picked anyone to work with over the past few months. I would never have gotten my manuscript to this point without my mentor and editor, Stephen Roxburgh.

Like the very name of his publishing company suggests, the role of an editor may often be unseen or unknown to the reader, but it is of supreme importance both to the writer, and the manuscript itself. My manuscript is infinitely better because of the ways that Stephen has shaped and led me. The input, guidance, wisdom and support he has given me has not only bettered my manuscript, but also changed me as a writer. I am thankful for his choice to work with me, and all of the wisdom he has imparted along the way. I could write for pages about all the things I've learned about the writing process and the craft; how to view your characters; what to cut and what to keep; the intentionality behind every word; the steps of the revision process; and so much more. But really, while all of these things are invaluable, most of all I want to appreciate his willingness to work with me and help me get closer to the writer I want to be. It all started with his decision to take on my project and work with a young writer. And for that I will be forever grateful.

Of course, I know that this mentorship with Stephen is a unique situation afforded to me by my master's program, but the value of having a writing mentor cannot be overestimated. While mentors are easier to obtain within a school setting, whether at the college or graduate level, I would highly encourage anyone to make sure that they are learning from writers or editors who have been doing this longer than you have. Mentors could perhaps come from a writing group or class you decide to take. And on some level, reading books about craft can serve as a type of mentorship for your writing as well. But being in relationship with other writers or editors who can read and help better your work is absolutely invaluable. Not only will you learn more about writing, but you will also find encouragement and support as you work your hardest and chase your dream.

I am blessed to say that these past few months have proven to be a great learning experience for me. I will always remember the guidance of my mentor and look back at the growth I have made during this time. I cannot express just how grateful I am, but only hope to continue learning and writing, and hopefully have more relationships such as this one — relationships that make me better, and lead me to create better books.

The Question of What to Say — On Talking About Your Manuscript

Today marks the end of my fourth revision cycle, after which I will have a few days of rest before receiving my manuscript back from my editor/mentor, and will start revision all over again. And while this past revision cycle has been busy with edits, the most challenging of which turned out to be deciding the placement of chapter breaks, I wanted to blog about something other than the revision process itself. Something that has been on my mind for quite some time. Namely, the decision about when to talk about my novel, and to what extent.

With my blog and my general commitment to writing/revising each and every day, pretty much everyone in my life knows, on some level, about my writing. The support I have received has been truly overwhelming, and I am so thankful for the encouragement offered each and every week. I've even blogged about it here, as I know that my writing, and my emotional wellbeing, would not be anywhere as strong without all of you. But in everyone knowing and supporting my writing, questions about my book and requests to read it consistently come up. And I always find myself at a bit of a crossroads here, unsure about how much to share, but not wanting to hurt someone's feelings by saying no.

I love sharing insights about my writing process, how I get ideas, the timeline of writing, and the publishing industry itself. Honestly, it is so great that people are so interested and want to understand my writing life better, as I know it opens up connections and deepens relationships when you share your passions with other people. At the same time, it can be hard to know what exactly to say and what to keep to myself. On my blog, I tried to be very careful about not revealing too much about my manuscript, because as much as the online world is wonderful and encouraging and meant to be a shared experience, I simultaneously want to protect my ideas, and make sure I don't give too much away in the case that my manuscript will be published one day. But with friends, and those I care about, it is much harder to be as protective or deny someone insight into what my ideas may be.

Over the past fews months, in response to the question, "What is your manuscript about?", one of the ways I've tried to manage this is by prefacing my answer with, "I will tell you, but you can't tell anyone else." Sometimes, I feel a little silly repeating this, but I see it as a way to both alert someone that not only do I really not want them to tell anyone else, but also that by telling them, I am placing a certain amount of trust and confidence in that person. Of course, depending on who I am talking to, I provide more or less detail about the work, but other than perhaps my one writing friend who I work through all my ideas with, I also feel a little uncomfortable telling people about my work. And that turns into feeling a little guilty.

I know people are just asking because they are curious. And so often I receive truly amazing, and surprising support from others. Because the reality is that they really do care. But while the writing process, and this part of my life really, is something that I definitely want to share, it is also something that I do alone; something that still has to come from me, and no one else. Recently, a friend asked me why I wouldn't want to let other people read my work. And it was a really good question because it made me reflect on the reasons which I think are these:

• My friends and family are not my target audience
• While I will always want my loved ones to like what I write, ultimately, I am going to keep writing it either way, and don't want to feel discouraged by potential disapproval
• To some extent, I am just not interested in their opinions, because I want to trust my own, and I want to create something that comes strictly from me
• I want them to read it one day for sure, but not until the work is done, polished, and really ready to go somewhere 

I know some authors never disclose what they are working on, not even revealing the smallest snippet of the idea. This is definitely not something I am looking to do, but I do think the amount of sharing can also depend on the project. For the manuscript I will begin working on in December, I know that I do not want to share as much as I have for this project with such a broad spectrum of people. I've only told one person the title, and other than two of my friends who have helped me work out the plot, virtually no one knows anything about it beyond that it is going to be a fantasy novel, much like a fairy tale. And for some reason, with this project, I want to keep it that way.

I guess I don't have any concrete conclusions to share or what is the "right" answer. But I often feel this tension between wanting to answer people openly, and not wanting to keep my work private. Of course, there are times when I want help, and I definitely rely on a few fun, key idea people to bring up new concepts and help me work through conundrums. But on the whole, this is a question I think about consistently, and one I have still yet to resolve in my mind.

Perhaps this tension between wanting to be friendly, loving, and open and wanting to protect, shelter, and keep my work private will always exist. But at least know that if I don't tell you as much as you might like, it is truly nothing personal. It's just hard for me to know exactly what to say.

I'd love to hear what others writers think about this, and how much others are willing to share with friends and what that they keep to themselves, so feel free to comments or shoot me an email!

Inviting People Into Your Process

People often think that writing is a solitary experience. And in many ways, this is absolutely true. You think by yourself. You sit by yourself. You type by yourself. Most people want to work in a quiet, isolated environment. But yet, as I have been finding with my writing lately, inviting people into your process, and allowing others to share in and enrich your writing, yields a far better product than you could create on your own.  

These past few weeks, I've done a lot of writing. It feels like my life revolves around it, in fact. And in being so submerged in my projects, doing research and constantly jotting down ideas and working out story lines, I found myself developing questions that I wanted to bounce off others. For example, with the novel I am working on (the one with the deadline), soccer has become a large part of the storyline. Because of this, I did a lot of research — not being a soccer expert myself — making diagrams, listing soccer formations, studying different types of skills. And while I felt very comfortable with the knowledge I had amassed, there were certain moments when my wording didn't seem just right. Or when I wasn't actually sure if this thing would happen in a middle-school soccer game. So instead of moving forward and just hoping I was correct, I reached out to my friend Sean who knows almost everything about the game of soccer. And not only did he help me verify and correct what I already knew, but he gave me great new facts and ideas that will greatly improve my book. 

Similarly, a few weeks ago, I went to hang out with a friend of mine from work, Richard, and his good friend Justin, to talk about a future project. This novel idea arose from Richard one day talking about what Justin does. It is a job I had never given any thought to in a setting that was just perfect for a story. Something I never would have thought to explore on my own, up until that point, I didn't even really know it existed. So when interviewed, the details, description, and intricate knowledge given to me by Justin provided a richness to the setting I would never be able to achieve on my own.  And while I went in with a few ideas of my storyline, by sharing my vision and asking him to share of his knowledge, I came out just bursting with possibilities of a story I would never have pursued on my own. 

I think there is definitely a fear of sharing your ideas with others. And certainly there is a time and place to do so. I wouldn't advocate going around and telling everyone everything you're working on. Sometimes ideas need to be protected — from other's opinions or rejections, or simply so that your idea doesn't get around or taken by someone else. But at the same time, hiding your ideas could mean closing yourself off to the enriching stories of others. It could mean closing yourself off to different possibilities that might not come from your mind alone, but will only come through a collaboration with another.  

People have infinite amounts of knowledge to share. They also have infinite ideas. Each person has a unique set of expertise; a unique imagination; unique life experiences. My life will never be the same as yours, just as my imagination won't take me to the places yours does. I think it is important to develop your own ideas and to be the sole writer of your work. But at the same time, asking for help, talking about ideas, and being open to different opinions can enhance your work in a way nothing else can. 

Other peoples stories enrich mine. This is something I'm learning, and something I want to embrace. And as I share my process with others, as I invite them to partake in even the smallest bit of the experience, I am finding that not only are people interested, but they are enthusiastic. They are excited. They encourage me and help me find the drive to continue even on the days that might be the hardest.  

So thank you to those of you who help me. I am better for it, and so is my story.