Last Echoes

HOW DO YOU APPROACH ENDINGS?

I once walked a family member through the process of writing a eulogy. They were grief stricken by the loss but also about to step into battle with the surviving family members over the inheritance.  Before the death, the family found themselves in a tangled web of nastiness.  

When I arrived in town to help the family member tasked with delivering the eulogy, I found that he had written very little for the service the next day and what he had written was a mess of ego-based, one upmanship of the family members he was outraged over. A self rightous attempt to gain control, He was ready to air the dirty laundry of the family to the captive audience attending the funeral. My writing skills kicked in and I began the very painful rewriting process, moving him away from using the pulpit to shame the relatives and toward telling his father’s life story.  My message was strong, clear, and unwavering. 

“ You are retelling the highlights of this man’s lifetime.  Your are telling this man's final story. It is the one and only time it will get told succinctly to those who have gathered to say goodbye. This is the last echo of his life.”

I surprised myself that I was able to tease a decent eulogy out in the wee hours of the morning before the funeral.  But then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised.  It’s how I approach the ending of most of my stories.  The ending is the echo of the heartbeat of the story, whether it’s a picture book, a graphic novel, or a YA novel that I’m writing.  My two published picture books and my other stories that are out on submission end with that echo…the bookend of a circular story if you will.

 Egyptian Lullaby Illustrated by Hatem Aly  (Roaring Brook Press)

Hello, Little One:  A Monarch Butterfly Story Illustrated by Fiona Halliday  (Page Street Kids)

As an artist and writer, I tend to be somewhat metacognitive. I spend a significant amount of time reflecting on my process and analyzing my intentions.  My why as an artist is the desire to provoke discourse.  I want to challenge thinking and create dialogue so that people communicate, connect, and think…even small children.  That ending echo is the most important  beat of the story.  It ensures that engagement occurs and for me, what is art without engagement?

I love the quote that April highlighted in her last post and her description of serpentine endings. 

"One way to end the poem is to turn it back on itself, like a serpent with its tail in its mouth." ~ Maxine Kumin

Her post helped give me context to what I do.  She helped me name and identify my approach to endings.  I hope that our two posts back-to-back bring to you some thoughts and reflections on your own writing process as you explore… HOW DO YOU APPROACH ENDINGS?

For me…whether it’s a picture book, a graphic novel, a YA novel, or the eulogy at the end of one’s life, the ending is the final echo of the story.

Buddies, Bullies and Blankies

     Roxie and her pals sat in my "possibilities" file while I wrote and sold two more picture books, and researched my next novel. I kept thinking of one of my first editors who told me "There's a story in there somewhere." She was referring to Yankee Girl, which, at that point, I had been writing for over three years. I knew there was a story in Camp K-9. . . somewhere.
    I would like to say that I had one big "Aha!" moment and found that story.
    I didn't. Instead, I had a lot of little "Oh" moments.
    One "oh"came when I realized that most of my camping experience had been as a counselor. I was fourteen when I had my only experience as a camper.  I thought of Roxie as an eight-year-old in "people years." Most of my personal camp memories would have to go.
    Great.  My manuscript was vanishing, not growing.
    Another "oh" moment came while stuck in Atlanta traffic, which happens at least once a day.  I was planning a writing exercise for one of young writers' day camps. I decided I would have them write about their most precious possession.  I needed to give them an example of something or someone you are deeply attached to. I didn't want a lot of essays on X-Boxes or their latest birthday present.  What had been my most precious possession?
    From nowhere (because I wasn't thinking all that hard) I thought "my quilt." When I was born, my Grandmother Rodman made me a quilt from corduroy remnants. It was the size of a twin bed coverlet. I wasn't as bad as Linus and his blankie, but I dragged "the Quilt" everywhere.  I called it "Meemaw's Quilt" after it's creator. After I started school, the Quilt left the house only for road trips and sleepovers.  Since everyone took bedrolls to sleepovers (in the days before pink My Little Pony sleeping bags) no one ever noticed the quilt.
      I had taken it to that 8th grade camp, rubbing on s particular corner, worn velvet soft, comforting myself to sleep.
     I had just enough time to scribble "M'maws quilt" on a Wal-Mart receipt before the traffic on Georgia 400 once again took off like the Indie 500.
     I was actively thinking about Roxie as I was taking the MARTA train to the airport one day. Specifically, the conflict between Roxie and Lacy. Lacy was a bigger dog. Would that be enough to make her so disagreeable?  Would it be enough for Roxie to fear her?
    The answer; no. What if Roxie had a secret she didn't want anyone to know, especially not Lacy?
    I heard the voice of one of the many superstar writers I had listened to over the years.  I don't remember who it was, but the voice said "It isn't enough to get your character into a jam.  You have to put them in as much peril as you can without killing them. And remember, they have to figure it out for themselves. No fairy godmothers, no magic genies coming to the rescue."
    Now the voice didn't say that the Situation (not the one from Jersey Shore) must be life-or-death. The character didn't have to be tied to the train tracks with a locomotive roaring in her direction. "You find  the worst thing to happen to your character. It might not be life-or-death for you, the reader, but you must understand how perilous this is for him/her."
    Not an "aha" moment...just another question I couldn't answer. I scrawled "life or death for Roxie" on a Walgreens receipt before I was shoved out by the crowd at the Airport Station.
    That night I was in an unfamiliar city, trying to sleep in an unfamiliar bed. I always fret over these presentations, no matter how many times I have done them before. A good bed helps. I recall with fondness a room in Miami with one of those cloud-like coverlets and a pillow to support every part of your body, and fabulous Egyptian cotton sheets.
    Well, some schools and organizations have more money than others.  This bed had the scratchiest linen ever and feather pillows.  I am allergic to feather pillows. The TV didn't get Comedy Central.  I can't sleep without Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Oh, and the thermostat was one of those locked ones, and the room temperature hovered in the low 80's. Yeah, I was really going to be on the ball in the morning.  I left The Weather Channel on and wished for something, anything to comfort me to sleep. Like Meemaw's Quilt.
    At that moment, sweaty and half asleep, the Big AHA shot through my brain. Of course, Roxie would not Lacy to know about her blankie, but what if...?  And what was camp really all about anyway? I opened my computer and typed away with The Weather Channel droning in the background. This time I knew I had nailed it, and the good folks at Peachtree agreed and bought it.  And it only took four years.
    Some of my fellow writers never read their reviews.  I do, because quite frequently the reviewer will tell me what my book was really about. For instance, A Tree for Emmy is about the deadly sameness of suburban life, feminism and ecology...none of which crossed my mind while I was writing it.
    So far, the reviewers have told me that Camp K-9 is "a cosy tale of friendship" which, in the end, was what I was aiming for. But another review stopped me short when it mentioned it was a story of how to deal with the growing problem of bullyism. Really? Hmm. I guess it is.  I was just telling a story about dogs having a good time at camp.
    As for Meemaw's quilt, I still have it, as carefully preserved as my wedding dress. Why?  Because I always want to be reminded of that eight-year-old who could soothe away her troubles by stroking a corduroy quilt.

Don't forget our second blogiversary critique giveaway. Details at:
http://teachingauthors.com/2011/04/our-second-blogiversary-critique.html

And if you want to find out more about Roxy and Lacy, enter our book giveaway for Camp K-9. 
See Monday's post for further information.

Posted by Mary Ann Rodman

Happy Birthday To Me!

April may be the cruelest month, but I don't care.  I'm too busy celebrating the last year of my thirties, my son's third, my daughter's fifth, and yes, a Blogiversary and our April's birthday, too. 

Have you noticed that "Happy Birthday" is rarely (if ever) sung on TV?  As Mary Ann pointed out, there's that pesky matter of royalties, and apparently this song commands exorbitant ones.  Next time you watch a soap opera (if you dare), note the quick cutaway to commercial when the cake is wheeled out or the opportune ringing of a phone or sudden heart attack that befalls the birthday girl.  It's not about the drama, I'm sorry to say.  It's about the stupid song.  Just as often, it's about the Midol product placement or the actor who can't remember his lines or the set that has enough room for only two people when you need to throw a wedding! 

Most of my paid writing work has been writing for hire.  Writing for hire can be an awful lot of fun.  But apart from the challenges that are readily imagined (what if I hate the material?), there are also those devil-in-the-details moments I never considered.  When I was writing Nancy Drew, I had to be cognizant at all times of the rules of Nancyland (no guns or drugs despite the raging crime epidemic in River Heights).  There was a preordained number of chapters and pages, as well.  An hour-long daytime program is only 39 minutes minus the commercials.  Writing to a set structure (see the five-paragraph essay) makes life a lot easier in many ways.  In other ways, it is horribly constraining. 

My English Composition students write five essays per semester, and often they have trouble getting excited about the material, to put it mildly.  This is writing-for-hire in its barest form, after all -- pass the class, and you get to graduate and, one hopes, find the job of your dreams.  Fail to get the job done, and well... take English 101 again. 

For my students, God is in the details.  Once they can recount an experience vividly, without resorting to cliches and empty expressions, they have connected with the material in a way that makes the writing fun (and the reading, too).  And if they have done it once, they can do it again.  So even if their writing is full of run-ons and agreement errors and I despair of having taught them anything, I have.  I think. I hope!

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Writing Workout

My students had a highly disrupted semester this spring (I use the term figuratively) thanks to copious snow, which is paralyzing to Marylanders in the baffling way that rain is to southern Californians.

I usually do this exercise earlier in the semester, but it's waited until the last day (today!) because we've been too busy cramming exercises in grammar and MLA formatting.

Our text has a whole chapter devoted to the Process Analysis essay.  This format provides a wonderful exercise for students who will be moving on to technical writing classes or to any type of business career.  It is also a great exercise in developing clarity on the sentence level and accurate detail globally.

I like to divide students into two groups for variety's sake.  Those in one group write instructions for making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich; the other group describes how to tie one's shoes.  Once the essays are completed, ask for a volunteer demonstrator and have him/her act out the steps indicated in a sample essay.  What we discover is that it's hard to spread peanut butter without first removing the lid from the jar.  I don't think I've ever had a student wind up with properly tied shoes at the end of the exercise.  (No wonder my daughter is still in Velcro, as apparently I can't explain it clearly, myself.) 

The other great part about the exercise is that students have to decide where to begin and where to end.  It's a story in microcosm.  And at the end, you have an edible sandwich -- food being a great motivator, even at 8:30 a.m. and even when you use green pepper jelly, I've discovered.

Bon appetit!