Showing posts with label possibilities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label possibilities. Show all posts

Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Rainbow Sky



"You'll never find a rainbow if you're looking down." --Charlie Chaplin

I looked out my porch room window this evening and, lo and behold, this is what I saw. A gorgeous rainbow! Seems like a neat way to end one month and usher in the next. Not to speak of the fact that I could have missed it if I had failed to look up...

So Rainbow is my word of the week. Here's to looking up--and being open to possibilities--in all things writing and life in general in the days ahead. Cheers to rainbows!

What might your word of the week be?
_____________________________

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Flexibility

Flexibility.

Such a familiar word--except, maybe, in how it applies to writing. This is another thing I learned from Cook's How to Write with the Skill of a Master/Genius of a Child.

Cook suggests an exploration exercise: "Select a finished story--your own or somebody else's--and play the 'How Many Endings?' game with it. How many different ways could you end that story? Don't judge, analyze, or otherwise evaluate...just capture the ideas. When you think you can't think of any more endings, think of one more."

With reservations, I decided to try this with my children's historical fiction manuscript. At first my brain cramped. After all, I've written the book--how could I possibly approach the ending any differently? But I grabbed a notebook and pen, and forced myself to begin freewriting ideas.

I jotted down first one, two, then three variations--and immediately scratched them. No, I mumbled, I'll stay with what I already have, thank you very much. No sense in changing things this late in the game.

But the drill wasn't finished. Even though I was sure I couldn't come up with any more endings, the suggestion was to try to think of one more. So I stayed with the exercise just a bit longer...

That's when a neat little twist--not a major rewrite, mind you, but a burst of something extra--came to my mind. An idea that has potential to strengthen my story, give it a touch more depth. Wow.

"The master writer," Cook says, "brings this sort of childlike flexibility to her writing. She ignores limits and sees instead the possibilities in a scene, an image, a word...She tries new angles, new combinations, new points of view...Master writer and teacher Ellen Hunnicutt puts it this way: If you only write the story that is planned, you will miss the story that is revealed."

See what a little extra stretching will do? Why stop at the knees--reach for the toes!

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Reveal

Don't you just love those HGTV shows? Well, maybe not everyone likes them as much as I do, but House Hunters is my favorite. I also sometimes watch the "reveal" shows--those where someone needs a basement renovation, or help with a project gone bad. Homeowners are always thrilled at the "reveal" of the finished project.

Thus my lead-in to the reveal of my last post--the answer to the mystery photo. The answer is reminiscent of a remodeling job gone bad, too, but more on that in a minute.

As a review, the previous post was prompted by the discovery of Cook's book, How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child (Writer's Digest Books, 1992) on my shelf. As I've delved into its pages, I've tried my hand at some of the author's "exploration" exercises. About approaching a subject first as you think you see it, then as a child might, Cook says, "When you fantasize this way, you teach yourself two important truths about your writing. 1). There are no right answers, only possibilitites; and 2). It doesn't really matter where you start. Start anywhere, dig long enough, and you'll strike the core."

So, since there are no right answers, only possibilities, my inner five-year old became convinced she saw a pile of autumn leaves just waiting to be leaped into--or buried under.

As for the real story, one through adult eyes, Lindsey and Shannon were right on in their comments when they said, "wallpaper." The surprise is in where this wallpaper can be found. I wish, Lindsey, it had been in a Victorian house!

Here's the reveal. Ready? Ta-da...drum roll, please...this photo comes from the (ahem) bathroom of a downtown Indianapolis hotel room where we stayed over the weekend when in town for a basketball game. Believe me, it's easy to become claustrophobic in the middle of this print.

So there you have it. Just a fun writing exercise. I'll try to post more of Cook's tips soon. But I promise: no more ugly wallpaper.