How did it go last month? Did the muse writing exercises help? Did you come up with some interesting ideas to keep you going through the month? Is your muse playing nicer now? More regularly?
How did you complete last month’s exercise – on your keyboard, or on a piece of paper? Judy Reeves (A Writer’s Book of Days) strongly suggests that writer’s exercises are best completed by hand. Here are a few of her reasons:
· Writing is a physical act; you should do it with your body.
· Writing muscles include the hand and the heart.
· Writing by hand is sensual; it allows you to feel the movement of pen against paper.
· When you write by hand you slow down enough to write only some of your thoughts. In writing practice more is not necessarily better.
· You are more connected to your feelings when you write by hand.
· Handwriting is alive.
· You are in control when you write by hand (no low battery or malfunctions or save command or crash can interrupt you).
· You can write anywhere when you write by hand.
This month, I challenge you to write your exercises by hand, and try a different location. If you normally sit at a desk, try your living room, or a blanket on the spring lawn (if it’s warm where you are), or a coffee shop, or sitting in bed. Ok. Let’s go.
EXERCISE ONE:
Pick the first complete sentence from page 33 of the nearest book and go from there (a book off the top of your to-be-read pile is good – one you haven’t read before). Write whatever the line inspires in you. If you dislike direct orders, any old random page will do, but no cheating. It must be the first full line that you see. Write for 10 minutes. (source: writingfiction.suite101.com/article.cfm/writing_prompts_to_wake_the_muse)
EXERCISE TWO:
Some writer’s exercises tie directly to your work-in-progress. Exercises in Holly Lisle’s Create a Plot Clinic tend to fall in this category. But these can be useful as well for luring your muse out of hiding. Here’s one called “Goosebumps”:
I was surprised last month by how polished the writing was for those who chose to post their entire muse exercise. Intimidated me! For those of us who really compose sh!tty first drafts, I thought I'd post one of my attempts. Keep in mind that, following this month's rules, I wrote this out long-hand first.
Exercise One: The first full sentence from page 33 of a nearby book (this one from the top of my TBR pile - Laura Kinsale, My Sweet Folly): "A face of glowing simplicity - not pretty, no, nothing like her extraordinary stepdaughter."
Looking at this now, I realize I focused on the "face of glowing simplicity" and the stepdaughter, but didn't really pay attention to the fact that the observer wasn't saying the stepdaughter had the face of glowing simplicity. Oh well. This sentence invoked images of Snow White. Here's what I wrote:
A face of glowing simplicity -- a girl of innocence, who sees the best in everyone. Happiness. Love. (I was just writing whatever came to mind here, sort of brainstorming regarding the sentence until I sort of hit my stride.)
Snow White's stepmother could have forgiven her anything but her face of glowing simplicity. Her ability to see the wonder in all of God's creatures. That, the stepmother could never forgive her. Because, in that simple view of life, the girl held on to her father's love in ways the stepmother could never hold him. She was the one distraction that kept him from being completely hers.
For a time, she managed to convince herself that it was her own wit, her cunning, that would attract men of power. But once married into the household, she found it had been her money which had been the necessary element. Money, and perhaps a lingering beauty, that made her palatable. But in the end, she could not stand up to conquer innocence. She had failed. And in that failure, she determined to exile that which had stolen her ultimate prize - not love, but admiration, partnership, a time sharing of power.
**
Observations: Not great writing! Not related to my WIP at all. But interesting. Sort of a study in what creates bitterness in a character. I like the image from the original sentence about the face of glowing simplicity. Within what I wrote, what is the one thing my character could never forgive in their enemy, or even a friend or family member? Make a note to brainstorm on this. How can I work this into a scene? I also liked the idea of conquering innocence. How would one do this? Can I assign this motivation to any of my characters?
I'll work on the other suggestions throughout the month, one day at a time, and if you're interested, so should you. If you want to share, you don't need to type in your whole writing (you did write by hand, didn't you?). But if you made any interesting observations (as in my paragraph above), feel free to put those here. And of course, if you want to share your entire exercise, please feel free!
Jenny
Dear Jenny,
I was sitting in my physic lesson, thinking of this excersice and opened my physic book on page 33 to see what sentence there might be. The first sentence was "Galileo Galilei--...and the world goes on" So, I took out a paper and wrote the scene which came to my mind. Here it is:
"He isn't born yet, but in about 140 years, he'll be a great physicist. My dad told me some things about him.", I told Jack, who looked completly confused at me. For sure, he couldn't think about people who would be born in 140 years. I put my pillow in the right place and lay down. It had been, though not a very stressed, a long day and I was tired.
During he was taking off his dirty boots he asked me to tell him more about Galilei and what my dad told me about him. I sighed, not because I didn't want to tell the story, but because of the memory of my father, who was about 6000 years away from me--not even born yet--but Jack liked to hear things about my parents, my home, my time--even when I told him all the time, that his time is now my time too.
I opened my mouth and wanted to start the story, but then I closed it again, thinking if it might be dangerous to talk about the future--because I've read enough books to know that if you don't want the future to happen that way it does--it will happen that way, because you brought it to that point with your knowledge. I shrugged and began to tell Jack the story, because _I_ wasn't trying to change the future--I just wanted to tell a story. [End]
It's very helpful to write in that way, because you force yourself to write something with that sentence--though, I couldn't do that all the time--but it was very interesting and helpful to try that once! <s>
Sarah
Sarah,
So glad you tried this exercise!
>> It's very helpful to write in that way, because you force yourself to write something with that sentence--though, I couldn't do that all the time--but it was very interesting and helpful to try that once! <<
You are right. You certainly wouldn't want to write this way all the time, for every scene. There are really two parts to this exercise. The first is just to give your muse a little space to run - sort of like warming up before exercising. Start your writing session with something not threatening.
The second part is to look back over what you wrote, and see what creative gems appear that you might never have found in a more focused writing.
In your piece, I liked this line: "I sighed, not because I didn't want to tell the story, but because of the memory of my father, who was about 6000 years away from me", especially the part about being 6000 years away. That is obviously (I assume) an exageration, but it really expresses how your character is feeling. That her dad is soooo far away that it's almost an inconceivable amount of time. Has she expressed that emotion somewhere already in your WIP? If not, you might think about where you could work that in (if you like it too).
Try one of the other exercises later in the month and see what you can dig out of your writing. You might be surprised what you find!
I think that way to write would be very difficult for each scene. Aww..did I write six-thousand? I meant 600!! Sorry. Until now I haven't written yet something about her feelings beeing in an other time than her parents--but I'll do that if I have a full scene in my mind--and here I have the beginning of it. Certainly I'll join the other excersices--they're always very helpful!
Hi Jenny,
I did the exercise by hand (as well as the Feb exercises...I think my writer's callous is re-forming!). This has absolutely nothing to do with anything I am currently working on. I was surprised by the male POV.
I started with "Wife doesn’t go out." from pg.33, The Garden Angel, by Mindy Friddle.
Like it’s a sin or something, to go out and enjoy yourself from time to time. We used to out to the bar now and then, having beers or ryes with our friends or just each other. Used to like each other then, I guess. Now, not so much. It’s like we’re living in a state of siege, like we’ve drawn our lines in the sand and we’re not crossing them no way no how. ‘course, shouldn’t stop me going out but it does. Don’t seem right somehow to just go out without her. Like that would be a declaration to the outside world that I’m still inclined to be sociable but she’s not, like our solidarity had suddenly weakened. That’d be the middle of the end, I think. Not the beginning, because that’s passed. In the past. Don’t know what it was, though. Never saw it coming. Can sure see it going, though. It’s not too spectacular, though, for all that. It’s more like a tap dripping than a fireworks display. that goddamned dripping, though, that’ll drive you mad in the end. It’ll drive you right round the bend. Considering we don’t go out though, those bends are at awful close quarters.
She’s taken to the scrapbooking, too. Don’t see why. We don’t do anything of note that you’d think anyone’d want to know about, in the future, for posterity. Perhaps she’s just bored. I sure as hell am. It’s been a damn long time since I’ve done anything that couldn’t be done right here, within this house, paneled walls just a closing in like those squashing chambers they used to have in the movies all the time. I remember going to the movies, just don’t remember when I last went to one, or what movie it might have been. Long time ago, though – everything is long time ago, for me, these days, like my whole life is past tense. No present and future’s even more of a no-go.
I’ve taken up puzzles. There was a whole stack of them, in the basement, from when the kids were with us. Went down there one day and pulled one out and damned if I didn’t get sucked right into it. Fitting all those pieces together, the shapes and the colours dancing under my fingers, doing my bidding and coming together into that lovely whole. Didn’t much matter what the picture was. I finished one and started the next until now I think I might actually dream about my puzzles. I like them so much, dreaming about that section of sky or dirt or barn wall that eluded me before bed then waking up and going to the big old table and watching as my fingers work to put it together, like they know something I don’t.
Liza doesn’t care much for the puzzles, and tick ticks when she dusts, upset cause she can’t dust there, while her goddamned scrapbooking has taken up half of one of the old bedrooms. All pink and yellow and the papers and stickers and geegaw scissors. I wonder if she hasn’t gone mad; if you ask me. Maybe she has, a little, at that.
Kathleen
Kathleen,
Love the voice in this piece. Wish my sfd's of anything came out this well!
So, what can you take from this to apply to your writing. As I mentioned, the voice is wonderful. Very clear and consistent throughout. If you could figure out how to channel a voice like this (you mentioned you were surprised to get a male POV) - mirror the feeling you got writting this exercise, that might cross over.
I liked the lines "That’d be the middle of the end, I think. Not the beginning, because that’s passed." The idea that an ending can have a middle! And this one: "like my whole life is past tense". In general, I just enjoyed his observations of things. I was definately in his head, seeing the world his way.
Thanks!
I also in general like his observations of what's going on around him.
Thanks for your kind words. I may use this as a jumping off point for a short story, perhaps in a sort of monologue style, in keeping with what has "come out" so far. I need to find out who this guy is! I do think that his voice would not have been as clear or consistent if I had let my internal editor out of the back room for this exercise. I mean, the guy has questionable grammar, but still feels free to toss out the occasional five dollar word.
Thanks for the exercise. Brains need workouts too.
Jenny,
Is it ok if I jump in and try or do I need special permission? If so, may I join in? Or know the hoops? ;-)
Veronica
Thanks Claire!
Yes, it has been a while. Tooooo long. :-) But I am stubborn and back. Love your wedding pic-what a great smile! So happy! Congrats!!!
So, I am looking an noticing after first glance that there are other excercises too. Yeah! I need a workshop . . . or ten. :-)
Thanks again Claire. And why are you awake? It is 4AM in NY. My excuse is my one year-old woke me up and I thought she would wake up again so I decided to see what I could get done in between doses of Motrin and fever checks. Maybe it is regular time by you.
I am rambling-maybe I should go back to sleep before I make a fool of myself in front of 9th graders . . . : -)
Summer . . .sigh. I just watched the weather and we are getting an ice storm today. More snow at the end of the week. Why do I live here?? ;-)
Yes, she will get better soon. She learned how to sip out of a sippy cup with a straw this week (she was just diagnosed with cerebral palsy so we weren't sure if her tongue had some paralysis or not, so we were delighted she was able to do it--) yeah! However, she learned from her sick sister's cup. Ah well. :-)
Well, happy anniversary! I am early for that, right?? ;-)
Thanks for the welcome back!
Oooh, unveiling the motivations of Snow White's stepmother...it is so interesting the places a line can take you. And, the richness, the layers of story that you can find if you change perspective. Maybe you could try this with your wip? take a scene and write it from a different character's POV? Just musing <g>...
Veronica,
Everything Claire said (it's so efficient having her days opposite mine - we can answer everything quickly! <g>)
The muse exercises are new - You'll find the Awakening Your Muse thread (which you already found!), the February Muse Exercises, and this March thread.
The Muse writing is not intended to be a fantastic piece of literary writing. It's just a limbering up. But sometimes, if you step back from the writing itself, you can mine some gems - interesting phrases, observations about what did work well, the capturing of a specific emotion, and then see if you can apply that piece to your WIP, or just enjoy the process of writing without pressure!
Feel free to go back and do the February exercises if you'd like, and anything you see here in the March one. No special permission needed - we love all participants. And as Claire mentioned, she'll be posting the big March exercise in a few days. You get your own thread if you participate in that one! <g>
Hope to see you around more, and good luck with your daughter!
>>And, the richness, the layers of story that you can find if you change perspective. Maybe you could try this with your wip? <<
I think there was an exercises like this in the past? Maybe? Re-writing a scene from a different POV? Jo? Claire? Anyone? <g>
The thing I found interesting with the page 33 exercise was the idea of conquering someone's innocence as a goal. Not in the obvious way, but in more subtle ways. One of my minor antagonists temporarily pulls my MC into his world by enticing her with promises that help her with her goals. But in the process, her innocence about the world is a little shattered. I'd never really looked at it in quite those terms until I thought about the paragraphs I wrote here. Even though he doesn't have a POV, seeing his motivation this way adds a cool layer to his character.
Good morning Jenny, good night Claire!
I am 'cheating". I have read this book before, but even though I am teaching it I haven't read it as often I like to before I bring it up in class. As an aside--I had my students work on your prompts (fav time of year-the last time I saw) and we talked about writing by hand and it was the best discussion I had with my students about writing in awhile. So thanks!! They really took to the writing.
Back to the task at hand. I am not sure if I am doing this right, but here goes.
I chose from The Once and Future King by T.H. White. "The Wart saw that the most perfect breakast was laid ot neatly for two, on a table by the window."
I am thinking about how lovely a beautiful breakfast set for two would be-we have freezing rain this AM. My husband is out in it working his second job. I am awake out of guilt and sympathy. Guilt-guilt about everything, grew up Catholic. Symapthy, well, wouldn't we all like more sleep? So, I am pictuing a perfect breakfast in a cozy breakfast nook, lacey tablecloth, food that is delicious and not guilt-filled (see!?) with immediate weight gain after my meager progress of taking some off. (Hey, it's my fantasy!!) The sun is shining on my perfect breakfast and the air is spring and full of possibilities. The first of which (possibilities)is having a complete conversation without interruption by children, pets, or phone. A great cup of coffee-not restaurant coffee. Real coffee in a handmade mug, with cream and sugar.
Hmm. This is when I bring myself back and realize that Wart's idea of a perfect breakfast is far from that! He is a kid--who will be king but at this point in the story he is kid living during medivial times. Calories and fat are his staple! He is excited by walking mustard jars and an owl that talks in his ear.
Then I think about how this kid has never had anyone just make HIM a special meal. This boy who will be king is treated like a servant. Is a servant. He has never had anyone make a special day or meal from him, until Merlyn comes into his life. No mention of a mom who hugs him, who gives him a place to come in out of the rain. Yet, this boy who will be king is compassionate and thoughful and aware of the specialness of a meal made for him. And set special for him.
Obseravations: I see how my mind drifts when I read, analyze and then again when I write. I hand wrote my response and as I reread it-I started to change my words to clarify. Then as I typed this I came up with the ideas in the last paragraph-I never thought of that about Arthur before. I want to hug him-maybe things would turn out differently for him I could. Then I think about my students, those who will not be king one day, that is, and I wonder if they have ever been made to feel special and I wonder if I do that enough. Do I make my classroom the sanctuary? Where learning can occur despite the craziness of their lives? Then I realize--hey, what does this have to do with my writing? And am I so tired that I can only think of 'special'-not other descriptions?
Wow. I will work on trying to stay more focused. I guess the discipline is needed in my writing as well as the eating. Wish I didn't just buy 6 boxes of Girl Scout Cookies!
I LOVE the Once and Future King. It was my favorite book in high school. I still have my high school copy. I did my senior research paper as a compare/contrast between that book and something else I can't recall at the moment. But I digress!
I'm glad your class found the writing exercises useful. I find it's always interesting what I can learn when I mine what I've written during one of these sessions. If you can pick up a copy, the Writers Book of Days by Judy Reeves (where some of these exercises come from) really is a great book for muse writing tips and exercises. You'd probably find interesting ideas for your class.
I think you're right in that what your writing finally came down to was the difference between your life/experiences and Arthur's - and how that relates to the kids you teach. If you sat down with that assignment in hand: "compare and contrast your life with Arthurs", you likely would not have come up with anything so poetic and feeling filled. I find taking a step back from my muse writing when I'm done, and looking for those little hidden gems, gives me great ideas for creating depths in my own WIP.
Oh, and don't worry about those Girl Scout cookies. The money goes to a good cause.*
*leader of a troop of 12 high school girls. As the "cookie mom" for the past 9 years, more Girl Scout cookies have passed through my dining room than I'd care to contemplate! <G>
Well, this is my muse's response to Part I...... although I suppose the book might have a little bit to do with it!
From ‘The Great Plague: The Story of London’s Most Deadly Year’ by A. Lloyd Moote, 2004 John Hopkins University Press, ISBN: 0801877830 (Nonfiction)
Page 33 : First complete sentence:
Most of the page was taken up with the week’s burials in the city, parish by parish, followed by the caption: “Buried in the 97 Parishes within the Walls.”
Rochester and Harry Savile are two of the youngest members of King Charles Court, and both are equipping themselves to go off to war at sea....
**************************
Looking over Harry’s arm I see what he does – 'The Intelligencer’ – that news filled broadsheet that tells of all-important events in town, this week reports that only fifty-three people have died of the plague in all one hundred and thirty parishes of London. Only fifty-three! Yet, everywhere I look there are people packing carts and wagons full of household goods. The streets are clogged with them – and every one of them seems to be headed out of the city. There are so many that it is much faster to move about on foot. They will surely sit there for hours before reaching the gates.
We pass merchant’s stalls here and there that are boarded up tightly. People seem to be buying extra amounts from those that are open, then they rush off, jealously guarding their bundles. Here and there men and women of all ages hurry by with cloths tied over their noses and mouths like highwaymen, but it is the merchants that have steeply raised their prices to a villainous level.
Members of all class and caste barely acknowledge each other with a nod, and certainly not the hug and handshake or embrace of friendship that is the usual greeting. At a street corner where we paused, a man sneezed suddenly and men, women and children alike literally fled from him in all directions as rats fleeing a cat, several of them nearly being run down by a wagon piled high with humble goods and used furniture and a large family.
After trudging the streets we stopped at a tavern, Harry and I, and ordered ale. A man in a stained leather apron and nearly worn out shoes regaled us with a nightmarish tale. Just the day before a customer had collapsed on the floor, right where he pointed between us. Said customer was found to have buboes plain to see on his neck - but his friends had hurried him home at the pleadings of the tavern keeper who did not want to have the establishment boarded up on his account. Our drinks came, but suddenly, neither of us was very thirsty.
I went to pay nonetheless, and the girl presented me with a plate of vinegar that contained other coins before mine. I was to deposit my coins in the dish as well - not of course that she was suggesting that either of us had the sickness, but she refused to touch any coin from any source lest it had been purified in the vinegar first. We deposited our coins as requested, wanting no change from among it’s other occupants and wasted no time in leaving ourselves.
Adderbury,
>>POINT FOR THOUGHT: I NEVER write in the first person, for anything. I have trouble reading books written in the first person..... but my muse obviously plays in the first person? <scratching head in wonderment!<<
Muses are funny that way. On days when I know what scene I want/need to work on, but can't seem to get started, I often open my "journal" file, and just let my character ramble along describing things, circling the issues, taking about whatever, until we get done to the meat of the scene, then I switch over to my 3rd person WIP. Seems to work, sometimes.
The voice here was nice. My favorite part was when your narrator was reassured that he and Harry were both thinking along hte same line. I could really tell this was reassuring to the narrator!
So, did you type your piece, or write it long-hand first?
