And for a while I was meticulous about the garden. The watering, the weeding, sometimes just going outside to admire it. I fought to save plants in distress and glowed when people complemented the flowers.

But somewhere around August it all went horribly wrong. Carnivorous plants devoured the weaker, less ambitious ones. A potted plant died a long and arduous death and I didn’t replace it. I skipped a watering day here or there. Then came the vacation.

I went out of town for a couple of weeks. When I got back, despite my neighbors’ best efforts, my garden was a mess. My basil had grown into a tree, my roses were sagging, and my window box could only be described as brown. Since I got back, I’ve been avoiding eye contact with them all. Watering them only when the guilt got too much. I just couldn’t face the overgrown, weedy mess I’d made.

Then today, I filled up the watering cans, pulled out the scissors, and made my first stab. I started pulling off the dead leaves. One by one. Immediately things looked brighter, cleaner, and one of the leaves even started waving it thanks. Waving? I took a closer look.

A lovely, alien praying mantis was dangling from the rosebush. She maneuvered her stick-like legs, trying to find a better perch. I watched in awe. Something wonderful had chosen to make her home here. I had a guest in my overgrown jungle.

Right then I decided, I would fix the place up. Weed out the clover, haul back the petunias, and replace the dead plants. And this time, I would fill my garden with oranges and yellows. This time, it would look like me.

Sitting down at my computer this morning and opening my novel revision, I make the same decision. Time to prune and replant. And somewhere in this tangle of words, maybe I’ll find a surprise guest.

Let me set the scene. Down in the valley, there lies a land called the “Holy Spirit Retreat Center.” This placid setting of zen-like landscaping is just a set-up to expose those of us with hard-to-control impulses. For starters, there’s a giant bell that makes a delicious gonging noise right there in the courtyard. Anyone could’ve just walked up and rung it! What kind of world do we live in that has bells just lying around to tempt all?

Then there was a circular patch of grass that had a sidewalk circling around it… but there was also a slightly worn footpath short-cutting straight through the middle. Every time you walked in that direction you had to make the decision. Go around the ‘right’ way? Or cut across the grass? I wanted to give into temptation, but I was sure there were cameras that the nuns were monitoring.

I haven’t even mentioned the duck pond with its rock-throwing possibilities or the constant access to coffee or the giant basket of little candy bars that I wanted to steal all the Butterfingers out of. I think I’ll stop now… I might cry.

But there was one bright spot in this torturous retreat. Julie Williams, an phenomenal wordsmith, writer, and artist, did a session called “Words and Images, Images and Words.” She spoke and demonstrated ways to generate ideas when we need a little help with our writing. One of the simple, but wonderful, exercises she did with us used a series of four writing prompts.

We each started with a random image that had been handed to us. Mine was a magazine picture of several pieces of blue fabric draping down, like the folds of a woman’s dress. We did a continuous free-write for 2 minutes about the picture. Then we got a piece of fabric to add to the mix, mine was a piece of lace. 2 more minutes of writing. Then a button was added (an old, small, white one). An finally a word (jack).

Each item made the ’speed’ story we were writing grow richer and richer. And my prompts led me into the world of my next book complete with textured, opening scenes. I was astounded by the truth of something I thought I already knew. Physical objects can ground fiction in a way that nothing else can. They breathe life and energy and exactness into your writing.

Of course, I wanted to keep my writing prompts. As I was sneakily slipping them into my bag, convinced that they would be taken away from us, just as we got inspired, I heard Julie say, “You can keep your objects to remind you of what you’ve written today.” I sighed. I was guilt-free. Maybe I’d go outside and ring that bell after all.

What? What’s that you say?

I already wrote about the conference? Well, tonight I have to host a whole SCBWI Schmooze on the topic, so you’re gonna hear about it again, whether you like it or not! In hopes of inspiring people to send their writing out, I’m mostly going to stick with info about editors and agents that I heard speak. What they’re looking for and what they love.

But first, let’s start off with Bruce Coville’s 7 deadly sins for writers: Dullness, Repetition, Sloth, Inattention, Perfectionism, Clumsiness and Cliche. He had virtues too, but hey, sins are more fun!

Diane Muldrow, an editor with Golden Books talked about making good picture books that are accessible to every child. This is what she is looking for in a book: Perfect for reading aloud. Doesn’t have too much text. Lively stories that convey the wonder of everyday experiences that are new to a child. Has a ‘twist’ that makes it special (a riddle, a game, a little joke that the kid is in on.) A book that will backdate well and become a classic.

Michael Bourret, an agent at Dystel and Goderich, gave a great talk about queries. His general suggestions were to have a killer opening with a great hook ie., don’t start with dry details such as word count or genre. Let the query represent your writing. And have 3 clean versions of your query letters ready for you to choose from so you can better match the agent’s personality. He also mentioned that is is looking particularly at voice. And he suggested simultaneous queries when looking for agents.

I took a revision class with Julie Strauss-Gabel at Dutton’s Children’s Books, but I think I need a whole different post for that class. Simply put, for her it’s all about voice, voice, voice.

The up and coming editor panel was great. My favorite part was the list of 3 books the editors wished they’d published. It gave an unique window into what they’re really looking for. Here’s the list, but I was writing fast, so I can’t promise they’re all right!

Gretchen Hirsch from HarperCollins: (looking for smart and sexy books, paranormal YA, soft spot for dogs) Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus by Mo WiIllems, Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block, and The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart.

Amalia Ellison from Amulet Books: (looking for eclectic/commercial, paranormal YA) Twilight by Stephanie Meyer, Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, and Holes by Louis Sachar.

Nancy Conescu from Little Brown: (Self-declared “girly” person) Emily Gravett’s books, Clementine by Sara Pennypacker, and John Green’s books. In another talk at the conference, she said she’s looking for a different take on familiar subjects, like Vampirates. She divulged that she looks at Etsy.com and other artistic websites to find illustrators. She also mentioned edgier YA.

Namrata Tripathi from Hyperion Books: (Literary/Eclectic) The Patron Saint of Butterflies by Cecilia Galante, Wave by Suzy Lee, and Living Dead Girl by Elizabeth Scott.

If you didn’t go to the summer conference or hear these specific people speak, hopefully this post has given you a little peek into what they are looking for. So, now I’ll leave you with these last thoughts to motivate you to get those manuscripts out!

Leonard Marcus shared this wonderful quote from the great editor Ursula Nordstrom, “Is there any prettier sight in the world than that of someone sticking out his neck?” (I hope I got the wording right!)

And since I started with Bruce Coville, I’ll end with him too. He shared this scary and invigorating thought about writing: When you get to the edge of a cliff, jump. If you don’t jump, you’ll never grow wings. Ever. He may have said this more artfully, but you get the point. Send that book out!

A box is a cozy place to be. It’s dark and quiet, with plenty of corners to curl up in. You can touch the walls around you and make certain they are there. You can make up all kinds of stories in your box in complete safety.

The box can be very important for stories just starting out life. The kind that will be vaporized under the hot sun. But if you stay in the box, that’s all they’ll ever be. Never sizzling, incredible, best-selling novels. Just stories.

Right now, I’m working hard on revising my young adult novel. I’m digging deeper to find my character’s voice. I’m pushing harder to make the world a scarier and more rewarding place for my characters. And it’s working. But when I’m try to get those characters from Point A to Point B, I’m still relying on my box.

I just keep doing it over and over. Moving my pawns around efficiently, but without regards to what builds tension or plays better for the reader. I’m just making making my story happen and working around my obstacles the easiest way possible. And easy does not make a good read.

So, I’ve started to keep a few things in mind, hoping that these tricks will help me cut some holes in my box so I can see my way out of it. One of these tricks I learned in Julie Strauss-Gabel’s revision class at the SCBWI summer conference (Thanks Julie and the class for your excellent advice!) and it was a big Aha! moment for me. Obstacles can be solutions.

Often, when I come up against a plot point that doesn’t make sense, I’ll ignore it… hoping maybe the readers won’t notice. An example: My main character, Faye climbs up to a roof to escape. A security guard is standing nearby, so she has to be quiet. Later, a roof tile breaks free and smashes on the ground. Problem: Why doesn’t the security guard react?

I came up with all kinds of rationale for this in my mind. Was he rocking out to his favorite Britney Spears song? Were the clouds so interesting that he got distracted? Did a venomous scorpion sting him, plunging him into a coma? Come on, these are very realistic scenarios! But for some reason my readers weren’t buying it.

Solution: The scene actually works better with the security guard noticing. It gives Faye someone to interact with. It builds tension. And it grounds the scene in reality. And voila! The obstacle is the solution.

I guess in the same way, the box is the solution. If you get yourself out of it, flip it over, and stand on top, you can reach higher or use it to go farther than you have before. Then it’s not, not, not a box! Vroom! Vroom!

Well, anyway. I was out jogging and a RAVEN (yes, that’s right, a giant, fat raven) landed on my head.

Out of friggin’ nowhere!

As you may guess, I shrieked like a little girl and batted at my head, though by then the raven (not crow or cuddly pigeon or anything) had already taken off.

Then he just sat there on a nearby fence, pretending like nothing’d happened. But I knew it and he knew and my poor head knew it. Their claws are very sharp, take my word for it.

Just in case it was the Angel of Really Bizarre Warnings or a trickster god in disguise, Tony and I turned around and jogged the other direction. You don’t want to mess around when there are foreboding avians on the loose! Maybe today’s a good day to go back to bed…

No. What I mean is that before, my manuscript was the story of a character, Faye, that I loved and crafted and who was very much alive in my mind. Now, Faye and her world is strong enough to live in other people’s minds. To capture their interest and make them ask the most important question in the realm of books. “What happens next?”

I can’t express how grateful I was that my suspicion, that Faye was finally alive and kicking, was confirmed at this summer’s SCBWI conference. One editor assured me that my ‘voice’ was strong enough. Another editor expressed interest in looking at the whole book and asserted that she really thought there was something there. Topping it all off, on Sunday I found out that I was nominated for the Sue Alexander Award for most promising critiqued manuscript at the conference.

Well, aside from bragging and shouting from the rooftops, what I’m trying to say is… “She’s Alllllllllive! She’s Alllllllive!” Now, if she only would stop clomping around all night and eating brains!

Okay. Maybe he does. Maybe he was right.

The main problem with my book was that it wasn’t exactly sure where it was going. Or actually, it knew where it was going, it just wasn’t sure how to get there. And it didn’t know what the rules were.

Rules are what give your story boundaries. They give your words room to stand up and stretch. Plot points can be powerful and huge, or quiet and small, because they know exactly how far to go. And the reader can get comfortable, too. They may not know what’s going to happen, but at least they know what game is being played.

Another friend of mine said to me, Fantasy writers spend so much time creating their worlds, no wonder they write sequels and series. You wouldn’t want to have to start over!

The same thing is true for contemporary fiction. Each story has to have its own set of guidelines. How far are your characters willing to go? What principles lead them through life, determining what they would do, and what they would never do, even if it would be so convenient for your plot. And how far are you, the author, willing to go? Are your character’s lives in jeopardy, or just their lunch money?

My book has a foot in both worlds. It takes place in a contemporary setting, but all kind of unusual, supernatural things are happening. The reader never feels comfortable, if they don’t understand what the rules are. Magic wishes cannot be unlimited. Super heroes cannot be completely invincible. And life cannot always be fair. It is the limitations, and what the characters do with them, that gives your story power.

Today in the mail, I received the bane of a writer’s existence. “Your work was given careful consideration by one of our editors, and we are sorry to say that we do not feel like it is right for our list.” ARGGGGGGG!

The form letter has the power to derail you like nothing else. That’s because it is exactly that, nothing. You can’t fight back against it. You can’t rage against its harsh judgment. You can’t even scream ‘THEY’RE WRONG.” It’s pretty hard to argue against a non-opinion about your work.

And, of course as writers, we start imagining. Picturing the assistant editor’s assistant who looked at your pages. She sneered at them. She didn’t even bother getting to the second paragraph. She just cackled evilly to herself.

“I wouldn’t sully my pen by writing a single word on this manuscript. The ink would probably eat through those terrible metaphors anyway. How dare such filth be sent to this fine establishment! Ban the Sara-woman for life!”

I will not let the reality of my experiences and conversations with perfectly nice editors get in the way of my imagination either. The assistant is actually a dragon, sitting in her cave, surrounded by manuscripts instead of treasure. She roasts the truly despicable ones… I can even see the singe marks around the edges of my story now. Can’t you?

Whew. I’m actually feeling pretty lucky now. I’m sure the worst authors get kidnapped and skewered for dinner. At least, I escaped that fate.

Flap. Flap. Flap. Do you hear that strange noise?

AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Taiko drums to root rhythm

Deep into your words!

What an great idea, you’re saying. Why didn’t I think of that excuse myself, you wonder. Why? Because I’m simply BRILLIANT and full of sh…arp ideas!

So, here’s the thing. This past weekend was Writer’s Day here in the LA chapter of SCBWI and one of the speakers was Gail Carson Levine. Someone asked her what her writing schedule was like. She stalled for a moment, then revealed the awesome truth.

I have a laptop, she said in Sara’s fairly accurate paraphrase, and I write when I eat breakfast. And lunch. And I write while I eat dinner. I tend to fall asleep while I’m writing and at least I can’t sleep while my mouth is moving.

Ok. Hands down one of the best answers to that question EVER.

So, inspired by that wonderfully bizarre and revealing answer, I realized that this blog is clear proof of my writing style and schedule. Sometimes I write consistently. Sometimes erratically. Sometimes I seemingly abandon my writing all together. But no matter how my ‘active’ writing process is going, I am always, _always_, ALWAYS thinking about my stories.

When I go to the Battlestar Galactica concert featuring the amazing music from that amazing show, I find in the music a soundtrack to my novel that uncovers the sense of urgency I’ve been trying to inject into my key scenes.

When I go to the bookstore to peruse the new picture books, I find a book that uses page turns in just the way that will give my picture book the added momentum it needs.

And when I get angry at the world because my writing is stalling out, and I’m no closer to reaching my goals, I realize that rage is the exact emotion that is missing from my final scene.

Sometimes I feel like I lose my way, but the truth is, I’m walking the writing path every minute of every day. Even when there are these spells of seeming dryness. I’m really just one of those toads who lives in the desert. They bury themselves, sometimes for months at a time. They just sit there and sit there, existing. Waiting. Then it rains and they emerge. They splash and drink and eat and sing and well… you know. They party until the rains stop and the desert dries up. Then they burrow back down into the dark to wait.

So, I’m a toad.

Except for one huge difference. When I’m in the dark, I’m never waiting. I’m dreaming and plotting and planning exactly what’s going to happen when I finally do reach the world up above.