I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.



Monday, July 15, 2013

Hook, line and sinker


Got my bait: morsel with a hook.
Got my pole: laptop strung strong with story.
Got my lump of lead: taking it deep, where the big fishes are.

I decided that this time, 3rd novel, I was going to follow the rules. So I stood before my bookcase which is lined with dozens of book-backbones upright at attention.  Out of the many one shouted, lime green spine, large black letters, “NOVEL”. I pulled it from the shelf, dusted it off and now call it my hook, line and sinker instructions.
If Julie can do Julia I can follow NOVEL instructions.  

I’m not going to post the full title of the book or the authors. But, I will say one of them is a dream-agent and that fact has nothing to do with why I chose the book. My choice was based on the bright color, which made it stand out, and that the word NOVEL on the spine was the only one I could read without, getting close and tilting back my head; if you wear bifocals you know what I’m talking about.

There’s a hole in my creel.

NOVEL has been collecting dust for years. I have not opened it yet and actually I don’t think I have ever opened it. I will apply the authors’ wisdom to my latest project. Having completed two ‘drawer’ novels maybe if I had read NOVEL first they’d be on a shelf and not in a drawer.

Okay, here goes, I am stepping away from the laptop, going to sit in my reading chair and open the book. Removing computer glasses, putting on reading glasses...

Twenty minutes later. Computer glasses back on, another cup of coffee and I’m back.

I skipped to page 9, read, skipped a little more and read.
You know those fish nets on a handle, the ones you scoop the hooked fish with, well left brain, right brain netted me. It explained everything that is ‘me’ regarding writing. There I was being psychoanalyzed and loving it. That’s when I started taking notes for my left brain, while my right brain ached to sit and write my brilliant novel. I skipped again and illegally passed on the right to outlines, synopsis and queries.  My left brain over loaded and right brain became overly anxious while standing on the pier waiting to cast my line in.

Here’s my first attempt at a query-hook, (and I'm only ankle-deep at outline and three chapters in).

Think Ruth Madoff, broke, Bernie dead, no family or friends to lean on and she’s living in a welfare-motel, earning less than minimum wage but able to keep her tips.

I like it. It explains Evelyn, my main character, perfectly.

That’s my "hook".

Will update with "line" results per NOVEL  instructions. I am hoping this approach will show me the way out of the drawer and onto the shelf.

3 comments:

  1. Patty A, broke, Harold is dead and she's living on disability in a nursing home. It's called, Hook, Line and Stinker.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hahahahaha, OMG, it'll be a number 'two' bathroom reader for sure.

      Delete