Character checks

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One thing I'm not very good at is giving thought to my characters before writing. They seem to evolve on the page. With every novel, I think: I should work up a character sketch, an interview, give some thought to these people. But every time I manage to neglect what I see as a chore.

Here's what one screenwriter does:

...before I start to write, I'll do a character check, ask myself whether I really know these people, what they love, what they hate, what they're afraid of, what they want, how they move through a room, what their voice are.
—from The 101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters

I really, really, really should do this.

The 101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters

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I'm liking this book more and more as it gets into the nuts and bolts of the writing life. Here is a quote I especially liked:

"Once I have an outline that goes all the way through, I'll start getting anxious and ready to start. But I try to delay the writing as long as I possibly can because the more you solve before you start writing, the easier it is to have that free and automatic writing experience ..." [Nicholas Kazan, page 53]

I'm a sucker for descriptions of working environments, and this one is the most ideal I've every heard of:

I have a zero-gravity chair, so I write completely relaxed in an almost horizontal position. My chair is position so that when I look out the window I can see down a canyon to the ocean. I write directly into a laptop computer that sits on a portable desk positioned perfectly over me. [Amy Holden Jones, page 58]

Heaven, eh?

What I've learned about giving readings

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I was pleased with how my reading went last night (a worthy and well-run charity event to benefit world literacy). I think I've evolved a good system over the years, which is:

I type everything out — even the introduction, the jokey asides, and the passages from the book I'm reading from. I break most all of it into sentences (no long blocks of paragraphs). I print it out in large (16 pt.), bold type.
I read it out loud several times over, editing out any difficult words that make me stumble, and revising the book passages as well.

When it's smooth, and clocks under the time allotted, I print it out and put it in a binder. I turn all the corners so that the pages turn easily. (This is important: having to lick a finger to turn a page would not be attractive on stage.) I underline or circle the words that still might catch me, words I'll need to approach with care.

On the day of the reading, I try to read it through three times (although this isn't always possible), and at least once in front of a mirror.

At the mike, after all this, I feel prepared. I don't have to fiddle with reading glasses because the type is large. I don't have to balance a book and fumble through the pages finding the passages. I don't have to squint to read my penciled-in edits. The binder falls flat, so it lies nicely on a podium, but I could hold it in my hands if needed.

The only problem is that often the big, black mike is positioned above the page and it's a little tricky to see the words. Juggling this makes me grateful for the time I spent in preparation.

One problem I foresee in the future is climbing and descending the sometimes rather steep (and often rickety) stairs, which of course never have railings. But that's long into the future. I will count myself fortunate to still be giving readings by the time that might be a problem.

MISTRESS now one month on Globe & Mail Canadian Bestseller list!

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I saw my editor and publisher Iris Tupholme yesterday at the HarperCollins office in Toronto. The sweetest thing is the big screen in the reception saying, in huge letters, "Welcome, Sandra Gulland." I always get a kick out of it, and love that fact that for all these thirty years, Norma is still there and leaps up for a hug.

I had a short coffee-meet with my new publicist, Lindsey Love (what a perfect name!), so Iris and I chatted briefly in the comfy lobby chairs. Iris was well pregnant with her youngest when we first met in my agent's office, and now that youngest is ready for a career. We each remember stories going way back.

Iris expressed her very great pleasure that Mistress of the Sun has been on the Globe & Mail Canadian bestseller list for a month now, and in the top 10! I was touched by how she described each Saturday, when the paper arrives. She can't bear to look right away. She sneaks up on it. First, she'll look at the non-fiction. And then, finally, glance at the fiction list to see if Mistress is there. Hurrah! Sometimes, later on in the day, she'll go back to look again.

"You're worse than I am!" I told her.

Iris has other authors on that list, some of whom practically live on that list. I was touched how excited she was by Mistress's success. She — and my book is a "she," no? — might fall off the list next Saturday, but it's a hard list to get on, and "a month is a lot," Iris told me.

Every time I think of this conversation, I smile.

Working in PJs

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One of my mother's (many) wisdoms was: "Choose your vocation according to the outfit." As silly as that sounds, I think she had a point. One of the (many) reasons I love writing is that I can go to work in my PJs.

Publishing, however: that's another story. When my first novel was published, and before my first public reading, I went to the Clinique counter. I needed to know more about the mysterious art of make-up. Even now, part of my emotional prepping for a reading involves a number of appointments with the "beauty" professionals. It's just part of the process, along with printing out the talk and practicing it in front of a mirror. Henry Fonda, I've read, threw up before every public event, so I don't feel too bad about my own anxieties.

I'm still reading The 101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters — which I'm appreciating more and more (more on that later). I'm finding that novel writers and screenwriters share much of the same process, but for one thing: screenwriters, as a rule, do not give readings or go on tour. (They do have to go to meetings, however.) The promotion part of publishing is something I get anxious thinking about, but I invariably love doing it.

Meanwhile, there is a bit of thought to be given to the outfit. PJs simply won't do.

The war against disorder

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The professional [writer] is on a mission. He will not tolerate disorder. He eliminates chaos from his world in order to banish it from his mind. He wants the carpet vacuumed and the threshold swept, so the Muse may enter and not soil her gown.
--from The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

I aspire to such order — deeply — but my own pack-rat nature as well as my peripatetic life conspire against me.

Inbox zero? Hardly!

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Several months ago I watched a YouTube video on "Inbox Zero" — and have succeeded, ever since, in not having any email in my inbox. I do have email in a variety of other folders however, more hidden from view.

Emails to be answered in the "Answer immediately" file: 11

In the "Answer as soon as possible" file: 24

In the "Letters from readers" file: 16

I'm going to try to file those numbers down today. Wish me luck. Between hosting three out-of-town teens, reviewing French for the class that starts tomorrow, and refining a reading I'm giving on Wednesday, I doubt that I'll have much time.

What constitutes procrastination? Writing THIS?

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For sure writing this short blog qualifies as procrastination ... I should be reviewing French, in anticipation of a course starting Monday. Is taking a French course procrastination? Is reading books about procrastination procrastination? This is a murky realm!

I'd hate to count how many books on writing I own -- could be 30, could be 50, could be more. When I'm gearing up to write (and at other stages in the process), I become ravenous for writing on writing. Right now I'm gulping down two books that I requested from the library (I do own quite enough, I think).

One is The 101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters — a perfect sort of book to read during my husband's turns at scrabble. It's not as great as I had hoped, although there is a lot in it. The other is The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, and I recommend it. It's all on — can you guess? — resistance to writing. Here's from an opening:

It's not the writing part that's hard. What's hard is sitting down to write. ... What keeps us from sitting down is Resistance.

And so: is writing this blog Resistance? Is putting off writing until July 1, when we're finally moved back to our country home and I can be sure to write every day without stopping Resistance? It does make me wonder ...

If you're having trouble sitting down to write ... for whatever reason ... read The War of Art. It's very good.

A Writer's Sunday

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I spent most of today revising, yet again, the "outline" of The Next Novel, which I'm now calling The End of Magic. I do love a rainy Sunday: it's a good excuse to putter in the office all day. I got out for a bit to plant potatoes and peas, but that was pretty much it.

And reading, of course. I'm browsing the books I left out last October, one on the breakfast counter (Pen on Fire), another on the bedside table (John Truby's The Anatomy of Story). I finished The Gathering by Anne Enright, and The Shortest Distance Between You and a Published Book by Susan Page, who I know in San Miguel.

I've been hearing good things about The Shortest Distance for some time, so I'm happy to have been able to read it, at last. It didn't disappoint. It's a very down-to-earth book on getting published — the nuts and bolts of it. I recommend this book. I learned some important things from it.

I especially liked the chapter titled "Procrastination" — for obvious reasons! Susan writes about "acedia" (uh-see-dee-uh), the painfully slow movements required to begin a new project (or to return to a project after a break). It's simply part of the creative process. Procrastination is resistance to doing something. Acedia is a slow giving into it, a letting go of resistance. My own feeling is that resistance is the first step in the creative process, and (now that I have this new word) acedia is the second. I'm sort of in-between the two right now.

I'm pleased with my "outline," but there are things about it that certainly aren't right. I want to tighten, hone. While it was printing, I picked up Truby's The Anatomy of Story (peppered with post-it note thoughts about my abandoned novel about La Grande Mademoiselle: my ghost!). I've yet to get beyond the second chapter, "Premise," because it is so dense: there is so much to try to work out: What is the premise of the novel? What are the possibilities? What is the designing principle? What is the conflict? The basic action? The character change? The moral choice?

So Truby's book is peppered once again with post-it notes, but on The End of Magic. Working through these questions -- or rather, trying to work through them -- I begin to question my entire outline. I'm ready to revise it even as the last page slides out of the printer.

Enough! (For today.)

Home base, at last

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I'm back in my main office for the week-end, after being away for six months. It's my favorite place in the world to work and I'm happy as a pig in mud.

I need to get the room ready for the four-month-write-The-Next-Novel stint coming up, and getting it ready means quite a bit of sorting. There are stacks of paper and piles of books here and there: what was I thinking? I've just gone through some of the books, re-piling them, for now I have different priorities.

I've just come upon the "scene cards" I made for a novel about La Grande Mademoiselle. It's a thick stack, divided into parts, representing over six months work before I rather suddenly got swept away with my new subject.

What should I do with these cards and all the other papers and notes I'm bound to find? I'll put them in a box, label them "La Grande Mademoiselle," and place them high up on a shelf. In my latest Q&A on the Blog Tour, Julianne Douglas, author of the blog Writing the Renaissance, asked: "Who is a character (from any place or era) that you wish someone would write a novel about? Are you tempted to try?
" Part of my answer was:



From the Sun Court era, I’ve tried a number of times to find a way to tell the story of La Grande Mademoiselle, the King’s eccentric, rich cousin and an early feminist. I’m reminded of a painting I bought, the image of a mountain in our area. The artist told me, “I've looked at that mountain for years, wondering how to paint it.” La Grande Mademoiselle is my mountain.

I think I'll name that box: Mountain.


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Photo taken last spring by Debbi Christinck.

The Editing Letter: a wonderful author video

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You'll love this video.

When Characters become Novelists

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Napoleon played with writing a romance in his youth, but now his novella — "Clisson and Eugenie" — is actually going to be published, and in English. It feels a little strange to have a man I personally think of as a character in my novels publish his own novel.

I wish him well: "Bon courage, Bonaparte!" Were he alive to take charge of his own promotion, the book would do very well indeed.

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Link to article: http://tinyurl.com/o8aagc

Writing in the Age of Distraction, by Doctorow

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A twitter link led me to an article by the SF writer Cory Doctorow, on the geekish tools he uses and has developed for his writing. I'm a fool for geekish tools, so I clicked. I was intrigued — nay, I nearly clicked "download" — until I caught myself up. I do not need more fool-around distracting tools. I have my own systems, and I'm best off sticking with them.

But a link at the bottom led me to another article by him. The title — Writing in the Age of Distraction — jumped right out at me. "Age of Distraction" indeed. I need to heed his advice about not being ceremonious. I liked his suggestion about not researching while writing, to insert a searchable "tk" instead, so that you can find and deal with those time-consuming pesky details after the draft is finished. (I use "xx".)

I like how he writes, and I'm tempted to read more of his articles — but not now, in this early morning creative time. So instead I click "Read Later," and Instapaper will hold it for me. That's my geek tool recommendation for today: "read later."

The Next Novel: the last novel?

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I made a four-year chart this morning — blocking off periods of time for drafts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, and then, boldly, sketching in: publish!

I've been anxious ever since.

I could well be turning 68 when The Next Novel sees the light of day. Will there be another novel after that? Will I continue to publish into my 70s? It's hard work — really hard! both in the creation and the publication — and, for the first time, I begin to see that I'm not on a path that extends into infinity.

I had an idea, once, that I would write shorter pieces as a grew older: novellas, short stories, poetry. There is wisdom in this. Perhaps The Next Novel should be titled The Last Novel ... or, at least, The Last Long Novel, for it seems, yet again, a huge subject to come to terms with, an insurmountable, impossible task.

But that feeling, I know, is Stage One. It's a mistake, I think, for a writer to look too far into the future. I know that once I begin, once I'm "on the page," all those anxious thoughts slip away and simple curiosity (and a good measure of delight) will take over.

MISTRESS: 2nd week on bestseller list at #8

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One becomes a numbers junkie, watching the lists. This morning I was pleased to see that Mistress of the Sun was still on the "Globe & Mail" Canadian fiction list, and that it had gone up to #8. I feel like Mine that Bird, coming from behind. I'm hot on the tail of Water for Elephants. Sing ye!

I also know that Mistress would have to rise into the upper altitudes to even make it onto the "all fiction" list — the list of titles that include U.S. favorites such as Stephenie Meyer, Dan Brown and Jody Picoult.

And speaking of Jody Picoult, I read last night in Bookmarks — a magazine I love — what she has done researching her books: lived with an Amish dairy farmer for a week, watched cardiac surgery, went ghost hunting (and found some), sat in a jail. I admire her commitment.

What impresses a 20-something son?

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What really impressed my 28-year-old son? My book on the best-seller list? NO: My Tweets making a Mashable list.

I haven't been Twittering for long — since January, perhaps?

For those of you who don't know Twitter, it's a social networking site where posts can only be 140 characters long (as I recall): i.e. short. Obviously not conducive to big words, much less sentences — much less serious thought.

But it's fun, rather in the manner of a hot ping-pong match. In fact, it's become rather too much fun, I'm afraid (as in addictive). Luis Alberto Urrea, for example, author of The Hummingbird's Daughter — a novel I love — regularly posts, plus a host of other writers and publishing-related folk. I'm star-struck. I admit it.

So today I got four Tweets in a row from Susan McKinney, a writer friend in San Miguel: Did you know ... ?!?

Apparently I'd made a list of authors on Twitter.

Oh? (So?)

I found the list, but it took some time to find myself. (Way at the bottom, under Miscellaneous — annoying.) But the list itself was interesting. "Literary Tweets: 100+ of the Best Authors on Twitter," put out by Mashable, which I'd only vaguely heard of.

I emailed my son, Net Guru in NYC. He immediately wrote back: Oh. My. God. This may be the coolest thing (in my books) you've done!

Which woke me up a bit. Really? Not the best-seller list, but a Mashable list?

And so, I have to admit, it has been quite a day. If you're at all inclined, come Twitter with me in the "Twitterverse." I'm at:

http://twitter.com/Sandra_Gulland

Now that I'm official, I'm going to endeavour to Tweet in a more — ahem — literary manner.

(And perhaps, when I'm dawdling writing The Next Novel, you might ask: "Too much time on Twitter, Madame Author?")

Busy mind = no sleep = befuddled brain

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There is something wonderful about being abuzz with ideas, the post-it notes stacking up beside the bed, a writer-is-cooking state.

But it often equals little sleep, unfortunately, so I'll pay for it today, no doubt — and likely, no doubt, when I'm at my most brain-befuddled and meeting with my agent this afternoon to discuss The Next Novel.

Here are some of my notes:

Buy bug dope (for our trip up north this coming weekend).

Look for the novel Vagabond by Colette (in English, please): this novel is about her being part of an acting troupe, and thus of relevance for The Next Novel.

"Many would wonder how a woman can get to the age of xxx and still be a virgin." A possible opening sentence of The Next Novel? ("xxx" means Look it up.)

"The End of Magic" -- possible book title?

Plus the thought of pairing that title with the scull painting shown -- I know, dismal, but I love it. You can see the problem my editors have. (Not to mention that the novel is not even begun much less written.)

Plus a number of notes on a wonderful new novel I'm reading (in manuscript) for Mary Sharratt, a novel I'm "blurbing."

The sun is up now as I write this, and so is the world. My husband is singing "Rhinestone Cowboy" and cooking breakfast. A day begins.

The annoyance of being called up on research

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I was recently contacted by the playwright Lynn Nottage (who is up for a Pulitzer Prize — read this interview in the L.A. Times). I had expressed a wish on my research blog to discuss the research she'd done for her play "Las Meninas," in which Queen Maria-Teresa has a child by her African dwarf. I didn't think it possible that the Queen could have had a child by anyone other than the King: she was almost fanatically religious and (most importantly) she was never alone.

Lynn Nottage said that she would be happy to discuss her research — initiating several email exchanges — but it must surely have been annoying to her on two counts. I'm sometimes contacted by readers asking about points of research I did over 15 years ago. It's time-consuming digging back into the files. It's also not really relevant to a work of art to ask "Is it true?" The truth of a work exists in the work itself, and "Las Meninas" is a brilliant play.

(I thought of this while researching the theatre world at the time of the Sun King, reading about a man who regularly interrupted the performances of plays by Racine, objecting to the historical "facts" as portrayed and demanding to know Racine's sources.)

What's interesting (to me, in any case), is that in pulling together my own arguments in support of my thesis, I've reversed my judgement. Now I think Lynn Nottage is right, that it is possible, if not likely, that the Queen did have a child by her African dwarf. I've put my findings in an on-line essay here: The Queen's Mystery Daughter.

Much thanks to Lynn Nottage for being such a good sport about all this!

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Link to my research blog posts on this subject: http://tinyurl.com/co3bx5
Link to my essay, "The Queen's Mystery Daughter": http://tinyurl.com/cjbvzs

Happy "Buy Indie Day"!

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Today was declared "Buy Indie Day" in support of independent bookstores — a wonderful excuse to spend more money on books. Today I bought at the wonderful Nicholas Hoare Bookstore on Front street in Toronto:

Mrs Woolf & the Servants, by Alison Light (about Virginia Woolf's relationship with her servants — delightful, and mildly research-related);

Homecoming, by the wonderful German writer Bernhard Schlink, author of The Reader (which I just read);

Grimoires; a History of Magic Books, by Owen Davies — research for The Next Novel.

I also ordered The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire by C.M. Mayo, who I've mentioned several times on this blog.

I'm also, now, the proud owner of a Toronto Public Library card, and brought home The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield.

I've so many good books to read, I hardly know which way to turn.