All History is a Story

 

Barbary Chronicles, Charlesbridge Moves 2026. Art by Allysa Adams

As Teaching Authors celebrates America’s 250, with Esther kicking off the series with her list of oldies and goodies, Carmela offers some interesting titles, and Zeena asks the important question, who writes history? 

I love American history. That’s why I write about it. In exploring themes of racial and social justice, I recreate historical communities of those who often feel unseen and unheard, those whose isolated lives were complex and multi-layered, not only defined by class, gender and race , but also lived experiences.

You may have heard that I have a new book coming out in October. The Barbary Chronicles, published with Charlesbridge Moves!

No one plays the game like Jack London. Only eleven years old, she can pickpocket and flummox any unsuspecting rube who wanders into the muck of the Barbary Coast. Jack may be little, but she's clever and bold. With the help of a devoted stray dog, a kidnapped prince, and the scummiest ex-best friend ever, she'll do everything she can to save her found family.

Historical fiction is the coming together of two opposing elements: fact and fiction. As we know, it isn’t easy to define historical fiction. For some, historical fiction is first fiction, and therefore anything goes, especially during these times when facts can be alternative and history can be revised. The ongoing argument on how and why historical fiction is relevant, and by extension why history is important, seems perplexing. As a writer, one of the most stinging rejections that I get too many times is that, despite an interesting plot and engaging characters, historical fiction is a “hard sell.” Not just to publishers but also to readers.

So why is historical fiction important?  I am reminded of a story once  shared by historian David McCullough, echoing Abraham Lincoln’s cautionary, “Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history.” After a lecture, McCullough had been approached by a college sophomore who expressed her surprise to learn that the thirteen original colonies were located on the East Coast. He realized with profound surprise that young people did not know their own history, stating,  “They don’t know what happened, or why, or who was involved.”  I’m also a big fan and reader of historian Heather Cox Richardson’s excellent writing in her newsletter Letters from an American, as well as her books (To Make Men Free, 2021; How the South Won the Civil War, 2020) in which she answers questions about American history that no one remembers.

But it’s also true, textbooks are dreary, often done by committee, often heavily edited to make certain important but brutal events more agreeable.

It has always been my ardent belief that underscores all my writing is that history is a story about people facing insurmountable odds. History is about families and love, and failure, and fear and hope. History tells us what it means to be human, and historical fiction reflects the feeling for a living past.

So maybe the way to get young readers excited about history is to have them experience it! Maybe it needs to be more fun, more intriguing, more dramatic. Here’s a few grand ideas that might help the readers experience the adventure themselves!

Combine reading of the story with a relevant activity, such as cooking a historical recipe, creating costumes or studying primary source articles. I find diaries and letters are of particular interest to young readers.

Create a living timeline, using a long strip of paper (or a wall!) to map out the chronological order, then have the readers work together to draw their favorite scenes or use stickers to mark the events.

Draw a comic strip from the perspective of one of the secondary characters in the book.

Celebrate the music of the era of the novel by learning a few songs the characters might sing. Sea shanties are particularly fun songs to learn. Learn how to dance an English country dance, a waltz, or a quadrille!

Do a history scavenger hunt, visiting museums, historical parks or landmarks. Have the readers locate specific artifacts and answer trivia about exhibits that might relate to the novel. There’s also online databases, 3D gallery tours and digital newspaper archives that readers can use to solve historical puzzles!

Make history more personal, have readers find an object in their house that is older than 50 years, and have them write a story about it. Visit a local graveyard, finding the oldest gravestone and record the name and date, and have readers write a newstory about this person.

For more ideas, you can find activities based on The Barbary Chronicles here! 

We have the best adventures are on our own landscape! The western frontier, the Mississippi, the Civil War, the Revolutionary War, New Orleans, San Francisco, Boston, Chicago, New York, the Midwest and the Southwest, the coming together of many cultures, many languages and many stories—why, we have the BEST stories in our own front yard! Telling a story is like singing a song. A good story has its rhythms and its refrains. Words sway and swing and slide across the page. When we read a good story, it feels like we're dancing.

Happy Dancing!

-- Bobbi Miller

Revising and Jamming and Finding Your Soul Story

 

Recently I attended a fantastical and inspirational hangout sponsored by Kid’s (and YA) Book Revisions Plus, hosted by Emma Dryden, Eileen Robinson and Harold Underdown. With over a hundred years of editorial experience, the three hosted the hangout to introduce the new direction for their collaboration and to gather ideas about what writers want to learn. 

Harold, Emma and Eileen

As I listened, I was very keen on the current changes happening in the business of publishing, as was everyone who attended. Publishing is a business, and now more than ever, it is a very dispiriting one.  As the discussion started, it was a relief to realize that I was not the only one who felt that perhaps my story doesn’t fit in.

As Harold introduced themselves, it became obvious that the prevailing theme of their new collaboration – as it has been through their many years of working together and as friends – that the publishing business is external from the craft, and it is open to very subjective opinions and the whims of trends. That the dreadful truth about publishing is the odds are against us.

What is discussed is a new definition, a new purpose for the revising process.  Revision is about finding your soul story.

I am reminded of a favorite idiom: find your jam.  To connect with something you prefer, desire, love.  To hangout with these three is akin to jamming, much like musicians finding their melody. The discussions focus on technique, improvisation to foster creatively, developing skills, and – most of all -- having fun.

And so it seems, revision is akin to jamming. As Eileen reminded everyone, revision allows the writer to not only come back to yourself but also to stay true to yourself.

As Emma reaffirmed,  writers write. Everything else -- everything external -- is beyond our control. Writing is an internal process. As such, we focus on what we can control: ourselves. Adapt, rethink, refocus. Take chances. Leave your comfort zone. Write something new. Write something different. Submit, and submit again. Persevere. 

Recently I returned to an old manuscript. I began working on this piece with Emma over a decade ago, about the time my book, Girls of Gettysburg (Holiday House, 2014) came out.  (Fun fact: I had worked with Harold on Girls of Gettysburg!) And through the many revisions, and even a couple of rejections, it became obvious that something was missing. O, my then-agent and an editor loved the voice, and they loved the characters, they loved the action and the setting. It was technically a good story, but something else wasn’t quite connecting. Putting that manuscript aside, I began working on something else. (Another fun fact: I worked with Harold and Eileen on this new story!) This new story also went through several revisions. I took more chances with this one and left my comfort zone. I ignored trends. With each revision, I began to sense what had been missing with the old story: myself.

 By the way, that new story, The Barbary Chronicles: The Lost Prince, will be available October 2026, published by Charlesbridge Moves!  You can find pre-order and more information here!

So returning to that old manuscript, I’m revamping and recycling, and taking some big chances. I think I get it now! Fingers crossed.

To cite another favorite idiom: We do our best and leave the rest to the universe.  

 Or, as Neil deGrasse Tyson offers much more eloquently --  and really, who else knows more about how the universe works than the mighty Tyson:

“The problem, often not discovered until late in life, is that when you look for things in life like love, meaning, motivation, it implies they are sitting behind a tree or under a rock. The most successful people in life recognize, that in life they create their own love, they manufacture their own meaning, they generate their own motivation.” -- Neil deGrasse Tyson

 In other words, we be jamming now!

-- Bobbi Miller

A Writer's Agency

 

“This here story is all true, as near as I can recollect. It ain't a prettified story. Life as a river rat is stomping hard, and don't I know it. It's life wild and woolly, a real rough and tumble. But like Da said, life on the river is full of possible imaginations. And we river rats, we aim to see it through in our own way. That's the honest truth of it.” – Big River’s Daughter (Holiday House, 2013)

 

A common writing term explored in many workshops in that a character needs agency. A character’s agency is a concept that is easy to understand – whose story is it, after all? – but not always easy to execute. In my current WIP,  I’ve paid particular attention to my character’s agency, recognizing that readers identify and care about characters who have ownership of their journey.

Lorin Obergerger (Free Expressions) offers that agency is the character’s drive and desire to affect change,  a change that happens because of their active choices rather than a passive reaction to external forces. That a character is likely to act with agency when they are driven by both internal and external goals.

But as I continue to dig deeper into my protagonist, I’m beginning to think there’s more to agency than just character.  I’m beginning to think it is as much about the writer (me) as it is about the character.

Anyone pursuing a creative career knows that, by definition, such a career is full of risks. Living with uncertainty is routine and fear is commonplace. Doubt  becomes heavy and nerve-wracking. Rejection feels personal. It seems too often creatives survive on the whims of outside influences: the volatility of an  industry that favors the bottom line, craxy politics, whimsy trends and reader expectations. Oftentimes, the stakes are high and feels like an all-or-nothing setup. 

No wonder creatives give up.

Isabel Sterling (Real Talk for Writers ) has a wonderful talk that brings this discussion into focus. As she states: “Effective goal setting is just the first step of a successful year. Actually keeping those goals in mind, letting them guide your decisions, and staying committed through all the ups and downs of writing, publishing, and life is the hard part.”

In other words, having agency means redefining success – and failure. We may not have control about the external forces impacting our career, but we can actively choose how to navigate those forces to make the journey our own. And one important strategy is setting and processing our goals.

Key questions you want to consider short and long-term goals:

Why are you living this creative life? Why does it matter to you? What are your priorities overall and how does this creative career support (or not) these priorities? How does this help to define success for you?

As you redefine success, assume that success is available. Don’t think about the risks or the competition. Believing that you can achieve success encourages you to show up.

Just as important, question your assumptions about what’s required of you to achieve this success. Whether it’s a marketing plan or establishing social platforms, what works for one may not work for another. There are no rules that a creative ‘must’ do. Assume that it is possible to experience success on your own terms and do what’s best for you.

Another important factor as you think about short-term and long-term goals, consider how you feel about each of these. Focus on how you spend the journey rather than the end-result, the destination.  Easier said than done, of course, but by recognizing how you feel, or want to feel, about your creative process strengthens that internal agency for your journey. You are no longer struggling with the whim of the shifting industry and reader expectations; rather, you are discovering your purpose in a journey of your own making.

In other words, success redefined means that it is a journey, not a destination. The doing is most important, the outcome is simply chocolate frosting.

Wishing you a successful journey for 2026!

-- Bobbi Miller

 

Summer of Regeneration

 

One of my Facebook favorite groups is the KIDLIT411, hosted by Sylvia Liu and Elaine Kiely Kearns. They also put out a weekly 411 newsletter that covers relevant industry topics. The group boasts a hefty 18K membership, including many professionals in the publishing industry, so the discussions run the gamut. And while the focus is on all things related to children’s literature, from board books to young adult, the discussions could be applied to any writer working in any genre from children’s books to adult.

One of the most asked questions in the group is “what happens next”? Whether it’s a follow-up question after the first book is written, or the first chapter.  Or how to start your novel. Whether it’s about the querying process or about the value of comps. About characters or plots. Or illustrations and cover-art. Whether it’s about writing to trends or looking for recommendations or offering warnings about the newest scams.  How many rejections must one receive before giving up?

“What happens next” is at once a confrontation with change, fear of that change, and a worry that it won’t ever change.  It’s at once an ask for hope and a cry for help.  

You’ll remember I asked this question not long ago, what happens next? 

I’ve been teaching forty years. FORTY years. I've taught at high school afterschool programs community college, university and graduate schools.  Sometimes at the same time! Forty years is a long time. Last summer I made plans to finally move on. Well, at the beginning of this summer, I began to put those plans into action. I  turned in my notice at a community college, after teaching there for 25 years. Being an adjunct, all this means is filling out a form for no more contracts. No fanfare, no benefits. And, just as this summer ends, I filled out the forms for this MFA, telling them I can’t accept any more contracts.

So, what happens next?

Being an old duck has taught me two things. 1. I can’t control what’s beyond my control. 2. All I can do is waddle forward.

As the Doctor once told us (Doctor whooo, you ask?) Life depends on change and renewal. All you can do is regenerate.

 Because I have several books under my belt, I’m what they used to call a mid-lister. All of my books have earned out. A few won some hefty awards. But the last book was published over a decade ago, so I’m not sure if a mid-lister label still holds.  None of that matters in my current pursuit of a contract. And, as it happens, I’m also in search of a new agent. I've had four agents already, so one would think I’d get this right after all this time. And agents are more selective than ever in large part because the pool is bigger to choose from.

So what happens next?  I keep waddling.

I have no expectations now that I’ll receive another contract. But I have every confidence that my current project will be the best book I’ve ever written. I am reminded of Elizabeth Gilbert’s (Eat Pray Love) on receiving rejections, “Whenever I got those rejection letters, then, I would permit my ego to say aloud to whoever had signed it: “You think you can scare me off? I’ve got another eighty years to wear you down! There are people who haven’t even been born yet who are gonna reject me someday—that’s how long I plan to stick around.”

(Not sure I'll last another 80 years, though!)

But tis the season of regeneration!  This is just a reset. It’s not the end of something, but a new beginning!

You remember what the Doctor said…

 Thank you for reading! -- Bobbi

A Study in Voice

 

 In my MFA classes, I am constantly asked about voice.  What is it, how to find it, how to make it stand out, and how to make it unique, and what is an "authentic" voice.

On one hand, a writer’s “voice” refers to the rhetorical blend of word choice, tone, point of view, and syntax that create phrases, sentences, and paragraphs to flow in a particular manner. This voice comes through in two main ways: through omniscient  narration or through the character’s point of view. For example, Tony Morrison and Nathaniel Hawthorne tell their stories through an omniscient third person narration. However, both authors have a unique voice, set by the tone, word choice, organization of paragraphs and chapters, and pacing that set each novel apart.

A writer’s voice often refers to the overall theme expressed within the pages of a novel, highlighting the book’s mood and worldview. For example, in discussing the books of Margaret Atwood, readers might note themes, character types and writing style that demonstrate a distinctive voice even as it transcends individual works.

On the other hand, a character’s voice is the unique tone a writer imbues upon different characters. It encompasses the language and syntax of the character, their personal worldview, and often comes wrapped in an accent that relates to the setting and status. For example, a novel’s main character might be affable and loquacious so much so that words spill from their mouth to the annoyance of the other characters.  Or, perhaps a novel’s main character suffers from PTSD and is full of youthful angst and quirky observations. Or perhaps a character is self-effacing. Or perhaps the character is a gentle giant, at once friendly and fierce-looking.

The challenge becomes when the writer’s voice becomes so intrusive that a character fades into the shadows. When the writer takes centerstage, the story is lost.

Two books I’ve enjoyed recently excel in reflecting both a writer’s voice and a character’s voice.  The challenge in writing historical fiction is, given the depiction of another time and place, the writer needs to keep the voice authentic yet accessible to the modern reader. Too much of an accent and the character is reduced to a stereotype. But too much of a modern sensibility and the story feels inauthentic.  And if the story takes place in ancient times, the challenge becomes all the more interesting.

I’ve really enjoyed Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom (2004). The story takes place during the nineth century, using first person POV. Uhtred of Bebbanburg, the son of a Saxon noble, recounts his kidnapping by Danish Vikings to find a home with a powerful warlord and ultimately embraces Viking traditions.  As a young man, he is torn between his Viking family and the growing conflict with King Alfred of Wessex. His primary motivation becomes reclaiming his ancestral land and his inheritance. Cornwell navigates the clashing of two cultures and worldviews through the perspective of one caught in the middle. The tension is palatable. Destiny is all.

 

Kerry Madden-Lunsford’s book, Werewolf Hamlet (2025), is another great study in first person POV.  Not really a historical fiction, the connection to history offers an interesting juxtaposition. No one has a more timeless, spirited voice than Shakespeare. Unless it’s a werewolf citing Hamlet.  

Ten-year-old Angus navigates a family in crisis. The setting of Los Angeles sets the stage for a clashing of two worlds: the gritty world of drugs against the glamorous world of the rich and famous.  Here, the world of make-believe, in which Iron Man breaks up dueling Spider-Mans, Princess Leia drinks a smoothie and Charlie Chaplin waddles along the street,  collides with reality. About to lose their home, the family struggles as Liam, the older brother, spirals out of control because of substance abuse and addiction. To cope with his anxiety, Angus speaks to Hollywood’s legendary icons, Charlie Chaplin, Harry Houdini and Buster Keaton. First person POV is further explored in chapters set apart, much like reading a script for a play, depicting conversations with Liam and revealing Angus' anger and fear for his brother.  He flings Shakespearean insults at his older brother: "Thou art a ragged wart!" 

For his fifth-grade project, Angus decides to write a play, Werewolf Hamlet, in which Hamlet turns into a werewolf whenever he becomes enraged. A deft blend of humor and poignancy, the book explores the devasting effects of addiction on a family and the resulting strained relationships but who are ultimately connected by love.

The book includes a letter from the author that offers insights into why she wrote the book. For another interesting interview on her writing process and why Kerry wrote this book, see this interview with Teaching Books: https://forum.teachingbooks.net/2025/02/guest-blogger-kerry-madden-lunsford/

For more information, check out Kerry's website: https://www.kerrymadden.com/

Also, if you’re interested in taking a deep dive into Voice and Viewpoint, check out this Webinar hosted by Lorin Oberweger and Free Expressions:  https://www.free-expressions.com/registration/p/october2-9-marriage-that-makes

 Thank you for reading!

-- Bobbi

 

Of Walking and Writing

 

We are supposed to talk about Our Best Day Ever. To be honest, I’m having a hard time coming up with something to say. I’m in the middle of grading final projects, then there’s all the other stuff. You know what I mean.

So I went for a walk, needing a break from the grind. Along the way, I met First Guy. I met him seven years ago, when I first started this route. He was a robust republican in every way back then. He’s five years older than I am. Haven’t seen him for a while. He’s recovering from yet another surgery, after surviving cancer in his prostrate and lungs. He’s riddled with tumors.

His wife, whom he always called the love of his life, is ten years younger than him (and five years younger than me). They met decades ago, when she was the first lady supervisor of his company. She has Alzheimer’s on the level of Gene Hackman, and no longer recognizes First Guy. She also has Parkinson’s and can barely move.  Turns out, the two of them worked for decades for a company that extracted asbestos from buildings. Even his hazard suit and mask had asbestos in it. Only now did he discover – and not through his company – that it was probably the asbestos that did this to him and his wife.

Also on my walk, I met Second Guy, another robust republican in his day. He’s my age, a retired marine who suffered a traumatic brain injury while on duty some time back. He was also exposed to burn pit environs. He was part of a lawsuit for compensation, until abruptly that lawsuit was dropped. Also, his vet office was recently closed, and he no longer has access to mental health offices. He compensates by drinking, and brags about what he gets away with.  There’s a gash on his head that I suspect is only the beginning.

Listening to First and Second Guy talk, it was beyond any judgment toward them. The hard reality is, between the three of them, they probably don’t have five years left. As First Guy said, a hundred years ago, he would have just died. And he added, maybe that was for the better.

 No judgement. But there's something deeper that touches the core fabric of who we are, and the consequences of our votes.

I am reminded of a poem by Carl Sandburg, The Long Shadow of Lincoln: A Litany (from The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg. Copyright © 1970 by Carl Sandburg.): 

 

Be sad, be cool, be kind,

remembering those now dreamdust

hallowed in the ruts and gullies,

solemn bones under the smooth blue sea,

faces warblown in a falling rain.

 

Be a brother, if so can be,

to those beyond battle fatigue

each in his own corner of earth

      or forty fathoms undersea

      beyond all boom of guns,

      beyond any bong of a great bell,

      each with a bosom and number,

      each with a pack of secrets,

each with a personal dream and doorway

and over them now the long endless winds

      with the low healing song of time,

      the hush and sleep murmur of time.

 

 Too much thinking, I decided.  I walked for six miles. Not bad for having a hip replacement not 18 months ago. Daffodils are all abloom, as are the crocus, the violets and dogwood. And the forsythia is burning bright! Robins are up for the early worms. Crows are arguing with each other, as always. A woodpecker is working a bit too hard. It was a good day for a walk.

Rather than grading, I decided to work on this Big Project. I’ve been challenged by my most excellent editor Eileen Robinson of Charlesbridge Move to write a horror story. I’m working on something akin to a splice between monster horror, legend and fantasy, reflecting some of the themes of fantasy, history and identity I explored in my new book -- The Barbary Chronicles -- coming out in Spring 2026. In horror, the question becomes: am I strong enough to survive? In fantasy, the question becomes: am I worthy? Seems quite apropos, don’t you think?

 

May today be your best day ever!

-- Bobbi Miller

Note: The quote "The trouble is, you think you have time" attributed to Buddha, comes from Jack Kornfield's interpretation of Buddhist teachings, from his book "Buddha's Little Instruction Book".

Wishing You a Good Wintering!

 

Let it breathe, if it doesn't breathe, it's gonna die.
Let us see, if you let it be, is it gonna fly?

I want to tell you before I forget,
You're doing well!
You know you're living it!
You're gonna make it no matter how hard it gets!

-            -- Wintergreen, by the East Pointers (lyrics by Tim Chaisson, Koady Chaisson, Jake Charron, Colin MacDonald)

 

This week I’ve been hobbled with covid, and as such, I’ve been forced to rest. I was grumpy, to say the least, because I have so much to do! There’s the end of semester grading, my daily walks. And the holidays, including the shopping. And not to mention, but I will, wintering the garden.

Add this to the recent stresses of  current life in general, and boy did I growl about.

Wintering. Every gardener recognizes the process. Then I came upon this article, and was profoundly pleased with the new application.  As Sheridan Voysey explores in his blog post, There’s a Word for What I’m Experiencing: Wintering. Maybe You’re Feeling it Too:  

“Winter is a time of retreat and hibernation for much of the natural world, wintering is the process by which our bodies and souls seek rest and recuperation when the clouds descend and light fades.”

Voysey reviews Katherine May's book, Wintering (Riverhead Books, 2020). He highlights key points in May's definition of  "Wintering", to include:

The Power of Pause: 

 "Wintering" reflects a necessary pause for repair and reflection. Just like nature withdraws in winter, allowing the land to rest and replenish, we need times of quiet introspection. This "wintering" allows us to process experiences, heal from emotional wounds, and gain clarity on our path forward.

 Self-Compassion: 

May emphasizes the importance of self-compassion. Be kind to yourself, acknowledge your struggles, and celebrate your small victories. Prioritize activities that nourish your mind, body, and spirit, just like you would nurture a loved one going through a tough time.

 Slow Down to Savor the Journey: 

"Wintering" challenges us to slow down and appreciate the present moment. By embracing a slower pace of life, we create space for creativity, deeper connections with others, and a greater appreciation for the beauty of everyday life.

For a more in-depth discussion on the processing of wintering, Here’s an excellent Connecticut Public Radio interview with Katherine May on Wintering! 

Look for the Katherine May's book, Wintering (Riverhead Books, 2020) at your favorite book store.

 

And wishing you a good wintering!

 

 

Thank you for reading!

-- Bobbi Miller

Something New About Turtles and Micro-tensions

 Teaching Authors starts a new topic, our “Something New I Learned and Can’t Wait to Share!” It’s been a long minute since the planets aligned just right, allowing me to take a writing class. And this one is a doozy, sponsored by Lorin Oberweger and Free Expressions. This six-week course -- The Breakout Novel Intensive -- explores the principles outlined in Donald Maass ‘ book, Writing the Breakout Novel (2001). As a story nerd, I thrive on taking deep dives into the story engineering process, and this is as deep as it can get. This class is bloody brilliant. The lectures offer a deep dive into concepts. I so appreciated the discussions into creating emotionally complex characters. The one-on-ones took a further dive into my work. I had so many "ah-ha" moments when everything came together. One of the best ah-ha moments explored micro-tensions.

This type of tension isn't in the action itself, but in the psychology underscoring the action. To make this happen, the narrative uses dialogue and exposition to highlight the emotive presence, build tension and expand the plot that leads to an emotional payoff.

As a working writer, I consider my job is to write. As such, I dutifully and gleefully do my job, sometimes hours at an end. I LOVE my job (writing, that is)!

Except, unexpectedly, these days I find myself rather spent after only an hour or two. It's not just writer's block. And not just exhaustion. Something else bubbling just beneath the surface.

For example, I went about doing some errands. I kept squirming because my running shorts didn’t seem to fit. O no, I bemoaned. I already have enough old lady fat. Turns out, I had put my britches on inside out AND backwards. And yes, I went out in public like that. (You can’t take me anywhere.)

And it’s hot outside. Too hot to sleep. My garden is decimated. Bees are dropping off the petals, their little wings burned. I even feel sorry for the wasps, those evil little buggers. The heat index has reached over 100 for several days, and there’s no end in sight. Combined with the high humidity, I feel like a toad swimming in boiling water. And toads do not like to swim.

You may remember that I am the ultimate Doctor Who superfan. I’ve been watching the show since it first aired in 1963. In other words, my relationship with the Doctor has outlasted two husbands, four dogs and three cats. And yet, when the finale for the Fifteenth Doctor finally aired, I fell asleep. What? What? WHAT?

You may also remember that I live in the middle of Red Hat County. Politics are posted everywhere. I’ve learned to ignore it. Mostly. True, one neighbor did rant on about 800,000 dead people who voted illegally. I had to admit that zombies are just the worse. Another neighbor railed about how we are a republic and not a democracy. I told him that he reminded me of some of my good friends. Perhaps he knew them: John Adams, James Madison, my personal favorite John Jay, and that upstart Alexander Hamilton, who all argued the very same thing for years. I told him, he could read all about it in the Federalist Papers. Granted, with 85 long-winded essays, it’s thicker than a comic book.

The stakes are rising. Everyone brags about how many guns they collect. One man rants about shooting a coyote (in the middle of a neighborhood?). Meanwhile, the school down the road had gone on lockdown a couple of weeks ago. And a couple blocks away, a high school student shot his neighbor.

You may remember, too, that I’m counting the days to when I no longer have to teach. At long last, I can choose which classes, and when, to teach. Or not. After forty years, it’s a daunting decision. By the way, I hate WorkDay, with those online forms you have to fill out, all those fecking buttons and columns, and rows and arrows and … it took longer for me to fill out one spleeny form than to grade two weeks of class. (Yes, it’s God’s greatest joke to the universe that I teach online classes. But I am not laughing. I remember that movie when computers took control. It didn't end well for most folk.)

By the way, the water pipe burst. What a MESS. And it’s messing with my internet.

I think I'll go for a walk, and get some ice cream. Chocolate. Better yet, chocolate fudge, with chocolate sprinkles. I'll go to the local pond and count the dragonflies and watch the turtles. At least turtles make sense. And no worries, I will put my britches on the right way. Not that the turtles will care. And when I return, I’ll get back to that bothersome scene.

By the way, see what I did there? I used micro-tensions to illustrate how micro-tensions can be used to add tension to an otherwise very ordinary, if not downright bland scene.

And of course, you want a big emotional payout at the end of such a scene. Take this, for example:

 

For more information about the BONI and many other excellent seminars, webinars and classes at Free Expressions, check out their website. 

 Thank you for putting up with my micro-tensions!

--Bobbi Miller

What Comes Next?

 

Teaching Authors is celebrating its Fifteenth Anniversary! That’s amazing, on every level! I’ve been with this amazing group for (almost) ten years. My first post was October 6, 2014, in which I discussed writing my drafts out by hand.  By the way, I still write everything out in longhand.

As a team, the six of us share our unique perspective as writing teachers who are also working writers. But as I reflect on what being a part of this blog meant to my career, I admit that it has meant so much more to me on a personal level.

You’ll remember our backstory: we met while students at Vermont College of Fine Arts, earning our MFA. I graduated 24 years ago! Friendships come and go with the ebb of time. Each serves a purpose for however long they last. Friendships change, evolve, and sometimes they come to an end. That doesn’t mean they matter less; it just means change happens.

But in all that time, amid all the changes, the TAs have been a constant.

I am grateful to the TAs.  I thank each of the TAs for having invited me into your circle, for being there in these last years that have been defined by dispiriting rejections, overwhelming life challenges, and ensuing life changes. I have learned so much from each of you, about the craft, the writing life, and about the nature of belonging. I have been inspired by each of you. And I have been awed by each of you for your dedication and passion.  And, I am thoroughly in awe of Carmela, who has managed the blog since the beginning.

 I am reminded of May Yang’s poem, To All My Friends:

To all my friends who have been with me in weakness
when water falls rush down my two sides

To all my friends who have felt me in anguish
when this earthen back breaks between the crack of two blades

To all my friends who have held me in rage
when fire tears through swallows behind tight grins

I know you
I see you 
I hear you

(Read the full poem here.) 

 So what comes next?  I’m looking ahead, planning out what I need, when  I realized…

I’ve been teaching forty years. FORTY years.

I've taught at high school, community college, university and graduate schools.  I’ve taught English as a Second Language, British Lit, Children's Lit, Writing Tech Reports, Critical Theory, and Harry Potter (yes, Harry Potter and the hero’s journey!). Critical Research, Graduate Research Strategies, Graduate Reading Strategies. Business Writing. Creative Writing. Graduate Thesis Writing one, two and three. Graduate Literature Studies. The Business of Writing. Editing and Line-editing. Composition one and two, and three.

And, I earned all the relevant certifications to keep going. BUT I didn’t make tenure because I was too old, and didn’t – couldn’t -- create a strong sense of community (because I was too crazy busy trying to keep a roof over my head and paying for my own medical insurance.)

(By the way, adjuncts hold the system together. I could go on, but I'd get rather frothy about how the system treat adjuncts...)

And yet, it’s important to remember the bigger story. I have survived for forty years, on my own, keeping a cabin’s roof over my head, making my own way doing (mostly) what I want beyond what I need. May not always have been the wisest of choices, but they’ve always been my choices. No wonder I’ve grown up to be such a roguish – and unmuzzled --  loggerhead.

More than this. I have met some massively impressive and splendid people along the way.  It has made the journey worthwhile.

So, what am I going to do next? Whatever I want. The possibilities are endless. Maybe I’ll be a pirate. And I'll continue writing about my adventures in writing, right here. 

Mary Read, in a colorized engraving (date unknown). Getty Images / Hulton Archive

 

 Congratulations to Teaching Authors, and thank you for bringing me along!

--Bobbi Miller

 

 

 

Don't Forget to Celebrate!

 

Recently, a friend shared his wisdom when another said that writing is hard, and asked if there was a way to make it easier. To this, my friend said, describing his approach to writing fiction, “Write it from inside the characters. Allow the characters to grow their own story and follow their lead. When it is complete and you are seeking opinions about how well you wrote it, leave your ego at home and allow the comments --- even the foolish or misguided ones --- to penetrate because they are talking about a book, not about you. Even a fool is correct once in a while! The goal is to create a work of art that will speak well of you. Any hack can cobble together 80,000 words, but most of that kind of writing can put a shark to sleep.”

Every term, my MFA students lament this very thing. I have to remind them that every writer carries similar worries at every stage of their career. In some part, it's the nature of the business itself. But it's also a function of human nature.

It seems the core of these worries are defined by a lot of shouldas and couldas, accompanied by a strong belief in several sacred myths about writing and writers.  Myths, they hope, that carry the secrets to and serve as a compass for how to succeed as a writer.

Myth: Writers only write when they are inspired.

I’m too old to wait around, hoping for some magical muse to show up. The truth is, writers write. It seems to me that curiosity is much more important.

Recently I’ve been going through a phase in which I really like Australian TV. The scenery. The intersection of history between indigenous and penal colonies. The Māori (and the Huka!). A common plot device is cricket – whether it’s baking, mystery, supernatural or comedy, there always seems to be a leather ball and a flat bat involved. To understand the context, I started researching cricket. And watching Australian cricket. (Baggy green is now my favorite color! What a sticky wicket!) This led me to research certain cricket personalities, then cricket history, which led to reading more about British colonialism. Which led to reading about the mid-Atlantic slave trade and the middle passage and the slave narratives. Which led me to Caribbean uprisings. While it sounds like a rabbit hole that Lewis Carrol might envy (and it was), I began noticing a seed for a story. This seed soon developed into a premise. Then it became a character. Then it became a draft.

More often it is through the act of reading and writing itself that inspiration finally decides to visit.

Myth: Writers are introverts.

There may be some truth to this. I prefer long walks to parties. I prefer languorous conversations with my flowers. Albeit, my granddaughter is pretty good at discussing the secrets of dragonflight. Others travel, attend literary events, participate in writing and reading groups, join online discussions. Sometimes I pop into one or two events.  Given my luddite nature, my relationship with social media is rather wobbly. (The irony that I’m writing a blog isn’t lost on me. But I did handwrite this first!) Some may be energized and go full steam into social events, while others find it exhausting. In the end, writers need diverse perspectives and connections to enrich their writing, but ultimately, it’s more important for you to be you.

 Myth: Method X is better than Method Y.

I’m a nerd about the writing process. I find it an endlessly fascinating topic. While I have more than a fair share of degrees and certificates in the writing process, I still attend classes, workshops and lectures given by the best in the business. If you have the chance, I can’t recommend enough the classes given by Emma D. Dryden, Harold Underdown and Eileen Robinson, and the many offerings at Free Expressions, sponsored by Lorin Oberweger and company, featuring such lecturers as Donald Maass, Chris Vogler and many others.

Whether it’s plotting versus pantsing, the hero’s journey versus the snowflake method, or saving the cat versus the three-act narrative, editing while you go or hammering out an SFD, everyone has their own way of engineering a story. My own process tends to follow four steps:

1. Research to get an overview of historical and social contexts. Besides, I like to read. You never know what treasure you’ll find.

2.  Outline, because I tend to work with a cast of characters as well as historical/social elements that require careful staging.

3. Write that SFD, usually by hand first.

4. Revise, then revise again, then revise again, because this is where the real magic happens.

What makes it work for me is that I set time apart for my writing and treat it like a job. I know how busy life becomes, having worked as a single parent maintaining a household. But it is still my job to write.

Myth: Writers are excellent spellers.

Yea. Right.

Myth: Writing is easy.

Does any of this sound easy?

Just as an engineer relies on a structurally-sound blueprint – one that, according to Larry Brooks in his book, Story Engineering, requires a plan based on proven physics and structural dynamics -- to build something that will bear weight and resist the elements, so must a writer engineer a story using the literary equivalent. The technicality of the story is fundamental to its creativity. The master writers make it look easy, but behind the scenes, it’s all sweat, blood and a few tears.

There are no easy answers. I tend to like what  Margaret Dilloway suggests in The Writer Unboxed, that you have to give  yourself the permission to write, and you have to give yourself your own approval and authentication, instead of depending on external sources. As she states,  "Nobody else can do that for you. You have to take that power and confidence for yourself.”

Most important, remember that it's important to celebrate the little things. And the big things. And the wicked goggly things, too.

 Celebrating the completion of my SFD! You know, shitty first draft! Only 99 more to go!

Thank you for reading!

-- Bobbi Miller

 

The Making of History

As Teaching Authors end our year exploring our favorite books, I am focusing on historical fiction, and on the making of history. History often carries the stigma of being dry and irrelevant, says Y.S. Lee (The Agency 1: Spy in the House, 2010), but “the freedom of fiction is one way of exploring a subject that may seem intimating or remote. After all, it’s a kind of fantasy, a parallel world in which people act with recognizable human impulses and ideals but abide by very different rules.”

The genre of historical fiction is very broad, one that Mary Burns (1995) labels a “hybrid and a shape-shifter,” combining history with fiction.  Or, as Trevor Cairney (2009) suggests, historical fiction is where “literature meets history.” Avi, an award-winning master of the genre, offers that some historical fiction stays close to the known facts, while others are little more than costume drama. “Ultimately, what is most important is the story, and the characters.” Facts, according to Avi, do not make a story. “Believable people do…Truth may be stranger than fiction, but fiction makes truth less a stranger.”

Remember that historical fiction is the coming together of two opposing elements: fact and fiction. History tends to be written by those who survived it. The meaning of history, just as it is for the novel, lays “not in the chain of events themselves, but on the historian’s [and writer’s] interpretation of it,” as Jill Paton Walsh once noted.

I’m often asked how I go about researching my own historical fiction. Because I tend to write stories of forgotten heroes, even as I reveal familiar events, in new, unexpected ways my initial research focuses on titles that explore this other side of history, allowing me to experience those perspectives that were not allowed their own stories. History is more than dates. History is people, too. In the best of historical fiction, as with any story, a child becomes a hero who gains power over their situation, a theme that contemporary readers appreciate. 

Harriet Jacobs: Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, written by herself (first published in 1861 by Thayer & Eldridge; L. Barsky, ed., The Townsend Library, 2004.) is a heart wrenching autobiography. Jacobs is addressing White Northern women who cannot comprehend the evils of slavery. Her story reveals in excruciating detail her journey from slave girl to free woman, how she navigates the horrors of her life in her fight to preserve her human dignity. Writing her story is Jacobs’ ultimate act of self-assertion.

The Autobiography of Solomon Northup: Twelve Years a Slave (first published in 1853 by Derby & Miller; S. Eakin, Eakin Films & Publishing, 2013.) is another gut punch of a read. Northup is a free man, a skilled carpenter and violinist. Offered a high-paying job as a musician, he traveled to Washington, D.C. Too late he discovered he had been tricked. Drugged and bound, he was sold as a slave, and sent to New Orleans. In her article, The Cultural Significance of Solomon Northup’s Twelve Years a Slave , Mollie Lieblich explains:

“Created as propaganda for abolitionism, slave narratives often conformed to reoccurring narrative structures and literary conventions. Authenticity was considered essential. Most pre-emancipation slave narratives include phrases such as “written by himself” or “herself” on title pages, as well as numerous testimonials, prefaces, and letters of endorsement by white abolitionists and supporters. The narratives usually began, “I was born,” identifying a specific birthplace but no date of birth, since slaves often did not have that knowledge. … Slave narratives proved that, despite the odds, many slaves managed to escape their degradation and learned how to read and write. After escaping their bondage and making contacts with abolitionists, they were able to tell their tale to others.”

Ashes: The Seeds of America Trilogy, by Laurie Halse Anderson (Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2016) is a modern classic (in my opinion), a thumping good read as noted by the New York Times, that illustrates this process of blending fact and fiction. She weaves these experiences of Jacobs and Northup into a new life in this story of enslaved Isabel as she continues her search for her sister, Ruth (began in Anderson’s award-winning, Chains, another of my favorite reads), and their flight to freedom.

“Historical fiction helps young readers develop a feeling for a living past, illustrating the continuity of life,” says Karen Cushman, another master writer of historical fiction. Reading a blend of history and historical fiction helps me envision how I might bring my own characters to life.

Just a note, Teaching Authors is taking a winter break and our posts will resume on January 19.

Until then, I wish you a historical happy holiday!

--Bobbi Miller

 

 

 

 

Glimmers and Starbursts and Hopeful Endings

 

You may remember my big summer news:  After a particularly nasty fall, I underwent surgery to replace a very sad hip.  I couldn’t take my walks. I couldn’t go into the woods or see my favorite trees or feed my favorite turtles.  The news was overwhelmingly depressing. I’ve watched every season of Doc Martin and The Witcher. And you know Whoooo!

And just about that time, a meme made its way to my page, defining the nature of glimmers. A glimmer is that micro-moment of happiness; a sign of hope.

So, I decided enough is enough. I pulled out an old story and made it new again.  Working at the desk, while doing my leg exercises, o! the possibilities!

A month later, I could bike ½ mile (albeit, it’s a PT bike. But a bike is a bike!)

I walked 45 minutes (albeit, I stopped to practice my balance, with my trusty cane – Miss Purple Bess – by my side.)

O, big glimmer. My eighth book, this one from Charlesbridge, is scheduled for Spring 2026! 

So how does this relate to our topic on endings? Ending is such a particularly good concept for me these days. I went to my Doc appt recently. I'm at the halfway mark. Only 6 more weeks of PT.  Endings. And new beginnings!

In other words, hope is the core ingredient for a satisfying ending to a story. There are many ways to end a story. There’s the happily ever after, common in romance stories and other fairy tales. There’s the “the restoration of honor through sacrifice; the bolstering of friendship and altruism through earned humility.” As Vaughn Roycroft noted in his article, Good Story Endings: Happy or Sad, or Something Else?” 

There’s the tragic ending, epitomized by Jack’s death in Titanic. And the open ending, when nothing is really resolved, and the murderer seems to have escaped. Then there's the redemption at the end of the story. In each scenario,  hope allows the character to move forward, and the possibilities are endless. After Jack died, Rose’s ‘heart lived on' to love again and have a family. Darth Vader found redemption and the rebellion found new hope.  

Hope means the story didn’t end with the tragedy, or even with the ecstasy. It is, in essence, the beginning to the next chapter – the sequel, if you will.

David Means, author of Two Nurses, Smoking, said, “A good ending doesn’t answer a question. It opens up the deeper mystery of the story itself.”

In other words, through dark moments and tragic scenes, and happy reunions, the most memorable ending invites readers to glean meaning from the story and, in so doing, becomes inspired, as noted by Hannah Gullickson in her article, “Imagination and Writing: The “Hopeful Ending” vs. the“Happy Ending”.  

And to end this reflection with a starburst: this morning I submitted the revision to my agent. 

“Life is amazing. And then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful.” -- L.R. Knost

-- Bobbi Miller

Prompting Possible Imaginations

I happen to agree with Esther when it comes to writing prompts. I’m not a great devotee of prompts.  

We’ve all heard those success stories of debut authors. (I hesitate to use the qualifier “overnight’, as it tends to negate the work that went into the writing.) J.K. Rowling. Veronica Roth. S.E. Hinton. Christopher Paolini self-published his first book, Eragon. He sold thousands of copies, when Random House took notice and bought the rights, and the rest is dragon history.  Emma Cline, who wrote The Girls, was offered a three-book contract with a reported $2 million deal.  

The real success stories – and the real champions -- are not the lucky debuts but we the sloggers, the majority of us who get up every morning and do what we do. We don’t define ourselves by rejections, nor by successes. We write. And if we’re lucky, we have a friend or two who send reminders, wrapped in chocolate, with a note: Yes, rejection sucks. Eat chocolate. Now get back to work.

But getting back to work is not always as easy as it sounds. I’ve written about my own trials in finding an agent many times, including here.  This week, news broke out about events surrounding New Leaf Agency (See Publisher’s Weekly article here), bringing into stark relief how excruciating the business of writing can be. Despite having seven books, a few award-winners and several short stories published in major venues, I've faced my own challenges to find an agent. And this in stressor certainly impacted my writing process. I mean, what’s the point?

After parting ways with my third agent, I stopped submitting to focus more on the story engineering process, taking classes from some of the best people in the business. (I highly recommend classes from the indomitable Emma D. Dryden, from the master editors of Eileen Robinson and Harold Underdown at Kid's Book Revisions, from Lorin Oberweger's Free Expressions.) Taking classes from such great teachers kept me in the flow.

 In 2023, one editor finally made an offer (shhhh, it’s not official yet. But watch this space! Unless, of course, change happens.).  Another editor invited me to create a proposal for a multi-book project. Who-op! The proposal was accepted and made its way up the chain. With these several manuscripts in hand, I was able to connect with my current agent.  

Still, we remember that things can change on a dime. That’s what it means to have a career in writing: the business of publishing is always in a state of flux. And so it happened again, the proposed series was rejected. Historical fiction is a hard sell.  What's next? Well, my agent and I are working on it.

If there’s a prompt to be had, perhaps the only one that matters is: 

Write what you love. Write your passion. 

 I write historical fiction. As Liz Trenow states (Writer’s Digest, April 2023): “When I discovered historical fiction, I loved the way it opened up worlds I knew little about, led me into researching eras of history, even took me traveling to find out more.” 

For me, history is my inspiration.  I grew up reading historical adventures and watching Doctor Who (a show that bent history into a wibbly wobbly adventure, to be sure!) Of course, it was the boys who were having all the fun. I wanted to know about those other stories, plain and ordinary girls like me. 

I also love to research. I enjoy reading diaries of those who experienced the events. When writing Girls of Gettysburg (2014), I walked the battlefield four times, watching re-enactors create this moment in history taht took place one hundred fifty-one years ago. I stood in the very place where twelve thousand Confederate forces gathered along Seminary Ridge. Almost a mile away, at the end of an open field, a copse of trees marked the Union line standing firm on Cemetery Ridge. When the signal was given, the men marched across the field. The line had advanced less than two hundred yards when the federals sent shell after shell howling into their midst. Boom! Men fell legless, headless, armless, black with burns and red with blood. Still they marched on across that field. And in the middle of this gruesome battle, the bloodiest of the Civil War, were my girls of Gettysburg. 

My characters also broke the rules and norms of their period as they struggled to take control of their destiny, although I was careful to provide context.  This focus reaffirmed the theme that underscores all my writing: Doing right wasn’t always easy, and sometimes it could be dangerous, but it could also change the world. And, in reading my stories, young readers are empowered (hopefully) to do the same.

For me, historical fiction tells the story of a living past, illustrating the continuity of life. Humans by their very nature are difficult, complicated, short-sighted, and at times, tragic. And yet, there is hope, grounded in human experience and perspective, all of which has been the driving force of my storytelling.

As my protagonist in Big River’s Daughter (2013) said, “This here story is all true, as near as I can recollect. It ain’t a prettified story. Life as a river rat is stomping hard, and don’t I know it. It’s life wild and woolly, a real rough and tumble. But like Da said, life on the river is full of possible imaginations. And we river rats, we aim to see it through in our own way. That’s the honest truth of it.”  And therein is the hope of River’s journey: if one perseveres,  life can be full of possible imaginations.

So, the question -- or the prompt -- becomes: Why do you like to write, and what do you love about your writing? 

-- Bobbi Miller

The Causal Chain Experience

Recently, my students asked about creating strong plotlines. Remember, narrative is a sequence of cause and effect.  Stories are formed by an interlinked sequence: Event A causes Event B (and so on). To reinforce both action (external) and emotional (internal) plot movements, build tension, and create strong drama, a writer needs to be mindful of the story’s causal chain.

Harrison Demchick (The Writer's Ally) offered a wonderful analogy on this concept.  Think of plot as a twisted layout of dominoes, and every plot beat in your narrative is a single domino. The first domino is the inciting incident, and once tipped, it launches a succession of plot beats. This is the rising action. Over the course of the story, there are complications, subplots, and dramatic turns.  This rising action reaches a peak, and there’s anticipation – upon baited breathe, perhaps even a dash of hope -- about what comes next. And ultimately, with the climax, the hero emerges. 

Weak plots tend to follow a “This happens, then this happens, and then this happens” formula.  Such a plot is reduced to a series of unrelated scenes. A stronger method for mapping a plot is using the formula, Therefore + But. In this way, the plot unfolds logically, and every scene also becomes relevant. Returning to the domino analogy: while the author may push the first domino over (the inciting incident), the readers cannot help but stay engaged and in awe as several thousand dominoes fall as a consequence. 

In other words, the power in any plot beat is not the beat itself. It’s how the character got there.

Everything that happens should be the effect of what precedes it.  If readers don’t understand why the car broke down when it did, or why the dragon showed up at that moment, or why the roommate left when she did, even if the event is off stage, then it may be issues with causation.  Cause without effect is like a single domino set up alongside, but not within, the domino chain. If the domino can be removed without effecting the chain, then the domino isn’t necessary. Likewise, if you can remove a scene, or a sequence from the manuscript without notable effect on the surrounding action, it reflects a weakened causal chain.

So, what does a strong causal chain do?  The very nature of a strong causal chain -- like dominoes-- creates anticipation and builds tension that leads to a dramatic, emotionally satisfying finale.

For a visual, check out this video, in which pro domino artist Lily Hevesh uses 32,000 dominoes to create a massive domino chain, taking 82 days to build.

This is the perfect illustration that demonstrates how a causal chain works in Story. Each subplot must connect to and ultimately affect the broader action.

This video displays the four stages of Story so well:

1.The Set-Up. 

2. The Context and Complications. 

3. The Empowerment of Hope. 

4. The Emergence of the Hero.

How to strengthen your causal chain: Using these four stages as a framework, outline your narrative using the causal chain format, depicting the events of your story as a series of cause and effect relationships. This should help strengthen your causal chain.

A Note About the Video: TKSST is a collection of 5,000+ kid-friendly videos, curated for teachers and parents who want to share smarter, more meaningful media in the classroom and at home. And it's free for everyone. Curated by Rion Nakaya, first launched with her teens when they toddled. 

-- Bobbi Miller