the other mother - free writing workshop for moms

Doppleganger

Sometimes you're holding three extra items that don't fit in the little basket you picked up at Trader Joe's and wondering whether you're out of dried blueberries and how hot it will be in the car and someone stops you and says, "Annika? Is that you?"

I am not Annika (nor do I look anything like an Annika, I think, but that's irrelevant.). But I look like Annika. And Annika is so nice. And isn't that great, kids, she reminds us of Annika! And I may lose my hold on the packet of organic asparagus, but somehow, I'm still honored. Because I look like Annika, and Annika is so nice. Because, as we often learn, we have dopplegangers.Maybe they're nothing like us. Maybe they live in Romania and wear leather trousers. Maybe they're even not nice, but we won't say that, not yet--you may choose to write it, though.

In honor of one core subject in my new novel, THE ORPHAN SISTER (do you have it yet? Oh, do pick one up--it's a paperback, so you can bring it to the beach/on the subway/to your mom's house/on a plane. Or you can get an e-book in format of your choice. I think you'll like it, really, I do, even if it doesn't look just like Annika.) twindom, belonging, and pairs:

write about meeting your doppleganger. Maybe you meet her in Trader Joe's, or maybe you meet her at a party where people invite people they think look like twins. Wherever you meet, start with a dialogue. I want to hear if you sound alike, too.

You've Got to Have Fight

 

Which is not to say that writing is about fighting--although if you ask some of my students there's a battle with the fingers and the page and the brain--but today's topic is one I used recently in workshop, and I was so thrilled to have everyone's characters gain sudden depth and speak to us right there in a snow-crusted Starbucks while cellphones buzzed with urgencies and the police politely reminded people that icebanks atop their cars could turn into deadly weapons (I kid you not, and I thank them; a school secretary's husband was killed by a truck iceberg last year).

Anyway, since digression is one of my favorite things, I will break up this topic for you so you can follow along. Don't cheat.

1) pick two characters. If you're not working on something right this minute, pick a real person and make up a character. Write (or type) their names on the top of the page.

2) Pick a conflict. Commit. I know you might think, oh, I have plenty in mind, but just pick one, and write it down.  Maybe it's a husband who wants to move to Yugoslavia and a wife who wants to stay in the Bronx. Maybe it's two sisters fighting over a shirt, some amazing boots, the only food in the house, a boy, or whose turn it is to call for an intervention.

3) Got both those things written down? Really, write them down first. I'll give you the next step next, after you write them down...

4) Write a dialogue between these characters, about this conflict. Choose first person (I said, for one character) or close third (she said; he said). Write this dialogue for 14 minutes or four pages, whichever comes first. Don't forget to just write.

5) go back to your dialogue (don't read this until you've written!) and add at least two beats (the spaces between dialogue in which the characters adjust their bra straps, or tip their chairs back, or think the opposite of what they're saying). Now add one more, making sure it gives some important sensory information, ie, She smelled like smoke, I thought, bitter and ruined.

 

Then post it all here in the comments, so we can be proud of you. Conflict and dialogue both, by nature, move a plot along. And with dialogue we hear your characters speaking, and they can think things they do not speak, and do things with their bodies (stepping backward, poking each other with pencils) that tell us even more. Can't wait to read you here!

 

Guess what? My new novel, THE ORPHAN SISTER, is coming in July 2011.

Roots and Shoots and Seeds of Imagination

Let me start by saying that my grandmother, Ethel Herman, died this weekend, and I will really miss her. She was 92 and died with her husband (Grampy is still with us!) there, in her own apartment--Grammy and Grampy have been a big part of my life, taking care of us when my parents weren't able (or needed a break), sending cards on every birthday, anniversary, mother's day, valentine's day, etc., coming to visit when my son was born, offering sixteen kinds of food when we came with both kids to visit them, emphasizing, always, that family is the most important thing in this world.

I've been remembering times when they came to visit us in Newton, when the rules shifted from Mom and Dad's rules to grandparent rules, when the whole book of world changed syntax, ever so subtly.

I called my grandparents this weekend especially to talk with my grandmother about her uncles, who were triplets. I don't have any official links yet, but I have been working on a new novel, called The Orphan Spoon, about triplets--two identical, one not. I believe the root of my interest in triplets came from Grammy's stories about her uncles. One, she said, was the world's most wonderful. The other two, well, they were okay. I wondered just how that worked.

In our old neighborhood in Newton, in the big house, where I had my own room shaped like a keyhole and my oldest sister, Claudia, lived with eves and windows that looked out on the tops of trees on the third floor (she had a clawfoot tub in the bathroom; my mother had a darkroom upstairs), there were neighborhood triplets. They were boys. They were French. They were mysterious. They were older than we were.

There was a big rock, a glacial erratic, on an island at the intersection of three streets--The Big Rock, we called it, and it was a Big Adventure to go down there as part of our games of sardines, or to watch the geometric wanderings of ants. But the triplets lived down there, and this is just to say that they were a root and seed in my imagination--older, vaguely dangerous, something to be stored for later work.

Writing prompt: what lives under the soil of your imagination? What early places stay with you, stone and scent and light? Write that place. Then populate that place with conflict and play, with all-important family.

I'll miss you very much, Grammy. May you have all the cream-top milk you want, may you magically know how to swim, may you never worry about weight and always know you are loved.

Make Your Own Summer Camp

I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but you're still visiting, writing, and emailing. Thank you! When I'm between novels, I always return to writing practice--I hope you'll come back and try every topic I've recommended.

Meanwhile, the peonies have dropped their heavy petals and the wax begonias are sunbathing. My son just came home with a fat file full of finished work--and we're labeling, signing forms, planning for a summer of daycamps and new pursuits.

I try to think of summer not just as a time to shuttle from drop off to pickup to the much-politicized local natural pool, but also a time to try new things. Sometimes it's best to sit outside and write, even if my pen gets sap-stuck and I can't bring my laptop for glare. I'm remembering my own summers: Bread and Puppet Circus, working at a dairy farm, a stable, science camp and deep, creative boredom on summer trips to Vermont.

It's your turn to stop and taste the green shoots of the timothy grass. Here's your topic:

Write about your summer when you were ten.

Or another:

Write about the summer you wished you had.

Then give yourself the freedom to change your routine--the kids are at daycamp, so put your feet in the kiddie pool and write about something new. Or try something new: try watercolor painting, read nonfiction if you love novels, read a poem outloud to your child, your spouse, your grandmother over the phone. Make a list of things you don't get to all school year, and give yourself an hour each morning--maybe for a week, maybe all summer if you can. Major in the flexible mind.

pro-cras-tin-a-tion

The thing is, I'm not usually a procrastinator. Sure, I look at that stack of laundry-to-be-folded and walk the other way; sure, my inbox looks like the beginnings of a very big, luscious bonfire, and sure, my kids aren't the only ones who have a hard time getting going in the morning, but when it comes to writing, I'm usually right ready when I have the writing time.

I always recommend scheduling the time--I write it in my Franklin Day Planner, to which I've become addicted since my working-in-an-office days. I am willing to sit in the quiet, thinking, giving myself permission to write notes before getting to the scene at hand, but today is different. All week I've used my sudden embarrassment of time to write. The kids are back at school; I have notes and plans and small scraps of paper with phrases that will start the important truths of this newest novel, and I've been using them. Until today.

Today, I want to go for a walk. Today, I miss our dog, who died last year. Today, my knitting looks ridiculously compelling, as if I could pick it up and finish my mother's birthday present, the huge sweater I'm making in bulky gold wool, the holiday gifts I feel compelled to begin ahead of time. I envy my friends who procrastinate by cleaning out closets, and THINK about cleaning out closets, but I'm just not getting to the writing.

I believe I know where I'm stuck: I suddenly have time, and intention, and prompt. I have clues about what I want to write, and there's a part of me that just doesn't want to write it. There's some bits of plot at the core I've been trying to write for years. They're painful, even if the story is ultimately a hopeful one. I have to get through the painful bits. I have to write them. So instead, I'm writing a blog post. But hopefully, it'll help anyone else who is procrastinating today.

Here's one self-imposed assignment I dig out whenever I hit this rare mood. Maybe it'll help you if you're stuck at the beginning, like I am. Maybe it'll help you if you're stuck in the middle, stuck near the end. Maybe it'll help if you haven't even started.

So here's your topic ...
Make a list: Things I Never Want to Write About

Give it a good 15 minutes, but probably the first few are the most important. They probably have to do with loss, and with love, and with fear, the biggies.

Then make another list: Things I Need to Write About

Take only 10 on this one. Then take a look at your lists. Is there any overlap? I will use mine to give myself writing prompts for this new novel for next week and beyond.

Even if the things I never want to write about are wretched, there's probably something good in there, and maybe I'll be able to exhaust them and move on to those I need. Or those I want. For now, another cup of coffee, and the lists themselves. Any writing counts.

workshops!

I'm all for mothers writing together, as you know, and started a course called Writing Motherhood right here in town some years ago! I don't know these folks personally, but they wrote and asked whether I'd share the following:

MotherVerse Magazine, a journal of contemporary motherhood, is launching an exciting new addition; mother writer workshops. These virtual workshops are designed to help facilitate mother writing by encouraging others to come together to learn and guide one another. MotherVerse will be offering two workshops "Writing Motherhood" and "Publishing a Blog" with will begin at the end of April and early May. The workshops will feature experienced published mentors and are a great opportunity to grow your current writing, develop something new, or begin that blog you have always wanted to start. If you are interested in joining a workshop sign up as soon as possible as each workshop has a limited enrollment. Visit http://www.motherverse.com/workshops

If you go, let us know what you think!

This week's writing topic: Write about not being a mother for 9 minutes. That could be nine minutes of not being a mother, or before you were a mother, or what you are other than a mother...

I'm just back from visiting my mother, which was wonderful. And spring is sprung, the flowers riz, I wonder where the birdies is...

New topic (via Moms Blogs book group)

If you read the most recent post (before this one, that is), you know that there's a moms blog book group discussion of The Other Mother at the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.

They're discussing The Other Mother and the issues it raises for moms. If you want to joint the discussion, click through where it asks you to join in.

There are plenty of gems in the mine, so this week I'm asking you to dig for your own topic.

You could write about a dad who's staying at home. You could write about mommy guilt. You could write about a mom quitting her job to stay home. You could write about cultural differences in parenting, but don't get too academic.

Just pick something you read about, even a phrase from someone's post, or, hey, the title The Other Mother's something to work with. I'm suggesting this because I feel like digging for your own topics gives you new freedom as a writer.

Have at it! 14 minutes or 22 minutes, you choose. And I'd love to hear what you think of the book group, as well.

Sometimes I write mine out a month in advance in my dayplanner, brainstorming all at once about a novel I'm living, or just trying to find what's important, what's next.

Can't wait to read! And hope you all enjoy your little Halloweenies, the ones in your house, or the ones that come to your door...

Lost

Hello all! I will get to comments later, but I don't want to delay the new writing practice topic, which came out of this week's in-person Just Write workshop:

Here's your writing practice topic for this week!

Read the writing practice guidelines. Stretch your fingers. Start with this sentence (fill in the blank):

Yesterday, she lost her __________ (mind, toothbrush, virginity, camera, best friend...)

Write for 8 minutes.

Thanks to all who've posted -- some exciting stuff!

On a side note, I visited a Rockaway MOMS Club book group this week and the discussion was fascinating: not all stay-at-home moms empathized more with Thea, the stay-at-home mom in The Other Mother, and not all working moms with Amanda, but the group was split about evenly between empathy for the two. I heard some amazing mom stories, and I hope some of the attendees will find their way to join us here.

Meanwhile, if you have (or know of) a book group that might be interested in The Other Mother, let them know I'm willing to visit in person (if you're geographically close) or via speakerphone--or that I'd be happy to answer questions online. The book really lends itself to discussion. Of course, the first question in Rockaway was about The Kiss.

Happy week, all!

In Defense

Hello everyone, and happy fall leaves, Santa Anas (if you're in San Diego), fog (San Francisco), and I dunno, you'll have to tell me what else you have. Leaf rot? Bulbs to plant (this weekend's plan). Small animals nesting in the gutters?

Welcome to members of the Just Write class who are new here (or returning). Take another look at the writing practice guidelines and get to it! Can't wait to read you!

So here's this week's writing topic.

In the spirit of this blog's genesis, write either an interior monologue (running thoughts) or an actual dialogue with a Working Mom or a Stay at Home Mom defending her choice (of working or staying at home -- to another mom, to her children, to her own mother).

If you're feeling brave, choose the mom who is not you as your narrator.

Write for 14 minutes.

For example,

"Just because you did it your way doesn't mean my way's crap," I said to my mother. She nodded her head, a slow, gray nod on a tall, red-lipsticked woman. My mother has moved like an old person since she was twenty.

"But, honey," she started.

"No, no honey," I said. "You call me honey to infantilize me..."

That's just a start... As always, we're going to assume everything's fiction, so feel safe to get as vitriolic as you'd like!

You go, mamas (and nonmamas alike).

Did you get yours yet?

This is my shameless request before we get to the topic: pick up a copy of The Other Mother at Amazon.com. It's on sale (only about $15) and there's free shipping for orders over $25 (you could get two...) I'd love to hear what you think of it, and it needs your support.

Plus, shoot me an email at [email protected] and I'll send you a bookplate signed to you, or your mom, or your friend who just had a baby.

*spoiler alert*: If you're one of my students and you're coming to Just Write tomorrow, this is a topic we're going to use. I won't usually duplicate, but I thought it might add to the sense of community -- which is growing and flourishing thanks to you all, Queen, MJ, Amanda, Laura, everyone!

Here's the writing topic for this week:

Make a quick list of things you hate to do (scrubbing toilets, patching jeans, cooking pear pancakes, killing spiders, talking to a sales rep....)

Then choose one, and (don't read this until you have your list) write about quitting, in the third person. For example, "she stopped flushing the toilet when her husband forgot. Never mind that there was a yellow ring in the bowl, never mind that last time they went on vacation the lid was closed and a yellow ghost of uric acid tinted the bottom of the lid..."

Write for your choice of minute: 5, 11, or 18. Writing in 3rd person is to help stretch the narrative voice...not that you folks need much stretching...

I can't wait to hear all about it.