Is It Required for Writers to Own a Cat?

By Jackie King

It’s been said that every writer should own a cat. Since I’m a writer, I’ve been pondering these words all morning, wondering about its veracity. (For one thing, I already know that you never own a cat. The cat owns you.)

Pawley's Family including pet cousins
Pawley not included--she's very shy!

Now before cyberland-cat-lovers (and I know there are myriads) stop reading this post in anger, let me hasten to say that I absolutely adore cats. I always used to have one, and I’m happy to say that each one lived to be quite old. My last cat, a Siamese named Fletcher, was so dear to me that I almost bankrupt myself with daily trips to the vet. He required regular IVs to keep him hydrated and comfortable. I just couldn’t bear to let him go to Kitty Heaven. Finally, the lovely lady vet told me that it would be much kinder to help him make that final crossing. And I did, holding him in my lap with tears flowing.

Fletcher was so special that I couldn’t bear to replace him, and got my kitty-fixes from cats of friends and relatives until they grew weary of my showing up at their front doors.

However, I now live in the best of all cat-worlds. I have a GrandKitty named Pawley, who spends her vacations with me. This is so great! I get to keep her at regular intervals while her family travels. However, someone else is responsible for her health and for taking her to the evil vet, whom this cat hates and despises.

Most of the time Pawley lives with her sister Lauren, who is my granddaughter and her parents, Susan and Rick. She was a rescue cat who fortuitously landed in heaven-on-earth. She has been spoiled and pampered by her sister for five years now. She has toys, clothes and even a special kitty stroller that Lauren uses to take her for walks. Every Christmas Santa fills a decorated stocking with her name emblazoned across the top in glitter. And one thing that is always included is a can of Vienna sausage, her favorite people food.

But back to the saying, “Every writer should own a cat.”

This saying must have been coined before computers. Because even thought I adore my GrandKitty to distraction, I can’t convince her not to sit directly in front of my computer screen, and/or on top of the current manuscript I’m trying to edit.

As any cat fancier worth her or her salt knows, cats do not recognize the word, “No.” Or at least not when a person says the word. She, of course, can communicate this word quite well when she wishes, with the swish of her tail.

So for the last three weeks I’ve been holding her in my lap reaching around her furry body so I can stretch forward in order to reach the keys. A little distracting, but what can I do? She’s such a sweet and tiny little thing.

And while I’m mentioning her petite size, I should remark about my confusion; how can a 4-pound cat need over 50 pounds of equipment for just a three-week stay? Luckily her big sister is an athlete who is a competitive swimmer. Strong arms are needed to carry all of Pawley’s stuff to my third floor apartment.



Lauren Keithley, Pawley's big sister, at OK State Meet with coach

Having done all of this complaining, isn’t it surprising that I’m not eager to see the last of her furry little body? I’ll miss her company. So I guess it is true that every writer should own a cat.

Hugs to all book and animal lovers out there in cyberland.

Jackie

What Parrots Know About Writing

By Beth Terrell

Awhile back, I wrote about things you can learn about writing from your dogs. Today, I'd like to talk about things you can learn about writing from your parrots (or someone else's parrots, if you don't happen to have one handy). Yes, my friends, we can learn writing lessons from anyone, any species, anywhere. Does this mean you can expect later posts on what you can learn about writing from your fish and what you can learn about writing from your praying mantis? Well, maybe. It all depends on how desperate I get for material.

But first, a little background. I have two parrots, both African Greys, a male (Corky) and a female (Kesha). I inherited Corky from a high school friend 18 years ago, just a few months after I had bought Kesha. He was four years old. She was just a few months old. I'd made a down payment on her egg and gone to visit her throughout the weaning process. Greys are smart birds with a sense of humor. Once, Corky had to spend a few days at the vet's office. There was a kennel next door, and Corky would bark until all the dogs in the kennel were barking frantically. Then Corky would laugh quietly and wait for the dogs to settle down. After several minutes of peace, he would bark again, and the cycle would continue. There's no doubt in my mind that he understood what he was doing and that he found it amusing.

My Greys are underachievers, though, compared to Alex, an African Grey who was part of a research project by Dr. Irene Pepperberg. It was a project on language acquisition, and since Greys learn language the same way children do (babbling for about a year and then using words in appropriate contexts), Alex was a perfect subject. He could name more than 100 objects, identify colors, tell what an object was made of, identify same and different, and identify sets to six. He too played tricks on the people around him, and he even combined familiar words to describe unfamiliar objects (such as "cork-nut" for an almond and "banerry" for an apple--white like a banana and red like a cherry).

What better muse could an author have than a creature that can use words with creativity and humor? So without further ado, here are some tidbits of writing wisdom we can learn from our parrots.

Don't just eat seeds. Many moons ago, people thought parrots could thrive on a diet of seed mix. Now we know that's just not true. While seeds are a great treat, a nutritionally balanced pelleted diet, along with a variety of fruits and vegetables, are necessary for healthy, happy parrots. If we think books as foods and our favorite beach reads as seeds, you can see where I'm going with this. As writers, we need to devour all kinds of good writing, not just a few favorite kinds. By reading good books in a variety of types or genres, we can absorb the rhythms of written language, learn techniques that can be adapted to our own work, and stretch our writing wings.

Change things up a bit. Experts used to recommend following a strict routing with Greys, because they love patterns and routines. They like to do and see the same things and the same people at the same times every day. It makes them feel comfortable and secure. That is, until the day you're late from work, or your old TV breaks and you have to buy a new one, or you shave your head or purchase a new hat. If all they've known is their routine, the sudden change will throw them into a tizzy. Maybe they'll start nipping your fingers. Maybe they'll pluck their own feathers out. Not a pretty sight. Now experts know that it's better to teach your birds to be comfortable with change. "See? We turned your cage a quarter turn to the right--and everything is still okay!" "See? You got breakfast in a different bowl, and it's oatmeal with blueberries--and isn't it yummy?" They learn that change can be good and that, whatever happens, they can trust you to take care of it. Writers sometimes get stuck in a rut too. We do the same things the same way, even when they're not working as well as they used to. Change is tough, but it's the only way we can grow as writers. Try something new every now and again. Are you a novelist? Try a short story. Are you a playwright? Write a poem. You'll feel refreshed and maybe learn something you can take back to your novel. Do you have a series character that's starting to feel stale? Can you introduce something new into that character's life?

Swing a little. My birds love their swings. They'll rock back and forth, singing to themselves (not whistling like birds, singing like people, sort of a "dum dee dum dee dum"). They're taking a break from all that hard bird work, like cracking sunflower seeds or shredding paper towel tubes. Sometimes, when the going gets tough, we writers need to take a break too. Do something that makes you happy. Taking a walk is good, because that sort of repetitive action often leads to a breakthrough. Been struggling with chapter five? Walk a mile on the greenway, or go to the playground and swing for a bit. The answer may come to you.

Swing a lot. (In other words, do something exciting). Sometimes, one of the birds will reach up and grab the top of the cage with a beak, pull themselves and the swing up as close to the top as they can get, and then let go. The result is a wild ride that they obviously find exciting. It can be a little risky too, as one or the other will occasionally get a little too exuberant and slip off. They always climb right back on and swing again. I don't know about you, but as a writer, I find it all too easy to get most of my excitement vicariously, through the movies in my mind, but if I want to write convincingly about life, I have to get out there and experience it sometimes. Doing something exciting or having an adventure can add that extra boost of motivation, too. Attending the FBI/TBI Citizen Academy was exciting for me, and I expect Lee Lofland's Writers Police Academy (held later this month) will be as well. Have you had an adventure lately?

Beware the evil vacuum cleaner. Both my parrots hate the vacuum cleaner. Obviously, this is because vacuuming is housework, and housework interferes with writing. Of course, it's a thing to be feared! Other scary things? Full laundry baskets and dirty dishes. Someone's got to do them, I suppose, but I think my birds are onto something.

Back to Back

By Beth Terrell

Writers, as I'm learning much to my chagrin, are at high risk for lower back problems. That's because sitting is one of the worst things you can do for your back, but almost everything we do requires sitting--writing the Great American Novel, promoting the Great Amerian Novel, answering fan emails about the Great American novel...and if your job, like mine, involves working on the computer most of the day, it just adds to the risk. Think about it. Whether you write via keyboard or old-style ballpoint pen, it's hard to do it while walking around. Standing is an option, but it turns out that's not so good for the old back either.

What's a Great American (or British, or Scandinavian, etc.) Novelist to do?

Well, obviously, the best strategy is to avoid the problem altogether. Here are a few suggestions for that:

1) Use good posture when you write (take it from me, you do not want to write a 100,000-word novel while sitting on your couch with your laptop in your lap). Get a good chair. Position your computer so you don't have to tilt your head too far forward to see the screen. If you need to redesign your ork station so you can sit in a more spine-friendly position, figure out a way to do that. Your chair should not only be comfortable, it should have good support for your lower back. If it doesn't, use a lumbar pillow. I found a handy device at my local Walgreens that slips over the back of my chair or car seat and gives lower back support. At less than fifteen dollars, it was well worth the price.

2) Take frequent breaks. I know, it's hard. If you're anything like me, you get involved in a scene, and when you look up again, it's eight hours later, and you feel like some malevolent Medusa has turned you into a statue of The Author at Work. Avoid this by getting up every hour or so. Do some stretches. Take a brief walk, even if it's just around the block or even the back yard. Or even the living room. Set a timer if you have to. Just get up and move. When you have to sit, change positions frequently. Cross and uncross your legs. Twist your torso (gently) from side to side. Fidget a little.

3) Keep hydrated. One theory I've read is that, if we stay dehydrated long enough, the disks in our backs can dry out and get brittle, which makes them more susceptible to herniation. I don't know if that's true, but it is true that our bodies are made up largely of water and that drinking plenty of pure water keeps everything working better, including our movable parts. I feel stiffer and more sore if I don't get enough to drink. I've also read that, because we drink little water and a lot of caffiene-based drinks, most of us are at least mildly dehydrated most of the time.

4) Exercise regularly. Be sure to include aerobic exercise and exercises that strengthen your core muscles. Pilates and yoga are two good options for core-strengthening exercises.

5) Eat a healthier diet. A lot of lower back problems are caused by inflammation, and some foods, especially sugars, processed foods, and red meat can exacerbate the problem.

6) Use good posture when standing. Your weight should be evenly distributed, not cocked to one side or the other.

7) Lift with your legs, not your back.

8) Wear good, supportive shoes, like New Balance athletic shoes. Girls, save the high heels for special occasions.

What if you're already experiencing back pain? First, be gentle with the exercise; two excellent options are gentle walking and walking in water up to your chest.) Then, in addition to the suggestions above, you might try the following:

1) Ice. Twenty minutes with an ice pack can diminish pain almost immediately. Be sure to put a cloth between the pack and your skin, unless the pack you're using specifically states that it is safe for use against the skin. (The one I got from my chiropractor has a gel inside that can be frozen or heated as needed, and it's safe to use directly against the skin. I wouldn't trade it for anything.) I used only the ice, because if your problem is related to inflammation, heat will only make it worse.

2) Visit your doctor or chiropractor. And educate yourself. I've heard conflicting recommendations about chiropractic work. Mine seems to help, but he's someone I know and feel very comfortable with. He doesn't do violent manipulations. If you go to one, do your homework. If you go to your doctor, you might want to do your homework as well. Would you prefer to try a more holistic approach first, or are you prepared for a surgical approach? Know your options.

3) Gaited horseback riding. Granted, you'll need to be careful with this one, and whether it's effective for you or not will depend on the nature of your back problem, but I've met and read about a number of people whose back problems were improved or elimnated after they took up riding gaited horses (such as a Missouri Fox Trotter, Rocky Mountain Horse, or Paso Fino). While the gaits of a regular horse can be very jarring (the opposite of what you need with a bad back), the gaits of a well-trained gaited horse are smoother. I've been told they also replicate the movement our hips and spines make when we walk, so riding this type of horse can be therapeutic for people with back pain. You can read about a study on this here.

I'm especially intrigued by the gaited horses, since I've always wanted one. Hmm. Wonder if I could file an insurance claim for nice gaited Morgan or Missouri Fox Trotter.

What Price Fame?

by Jean Henry Mead

I’ve interviewed bestselling authors who have been accosted by fans asking for autographs, as though they were rock stars. There are also those who insist they have the plot for the Great American Novel, which they want you to write and share with them in the proceeds. Or fledgling authors who write asking, “Would you please read my manuscript?” Most, in my experience, have expected praise for their work, not suggestions for change.

The late Elmer Kelton, one of the West's best novelists, said, "Usually, if they are persistent, I'll promise to read the manuscript and give dubious advice if the person will write the book himself. Less than one in fifty will take me up on my offer, and the few times my hand has been called, I've bitten the bullet and read the manuscript."

While it’s flattering to have people recognize you in WalMart and ask about your books, how long are you willing to accommodate fans who ask for autographed pictures, ring your doorbell during dinner or constantly ask you to donate books for a local charity?

Elmore Leonard said, "While it's nice to get fan mail, a few letters a week, and being recognized on the street, the interviews are wearing me out. I'm asked questions about writing, and about my purpose in the way I write that I've never thought of before  And I  have to take time to think on the spot and  come with an answer."

There are other pitfalls to writing success. One novelist couple was forced to move to a remote area of Wyoming, because a group of people took offense at something they wrote and literally threatened their lives. It may sound far-fetched, but it happens.

Linda Stafford, a Native American writer, said she made the mistake of commenting during a speech at a convention of 6,000: “Stop by for a cup of coffee if you’re ever in my area.” Although she and her husband live in the Colorado Rockies fifty miles from the nearest town, fans starting showing up all that summer to collect not only the coffee but pictures with the author, flowers from her garden and other souvenirs. They even asked to borrow food or use her shower. The couple finally resorted to putting up a sign warning: RATTLESNAKE VENOM FARM. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR CAR.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I really do appreciate each person who buys one of my books. I would be nothing without my readers. But the very fans who love your books are the ones who will monopolize your time and energy and prevent you from writing. I’m now experienced enough, and tough enough, to say to myself that I owe my fans only a good story for their money. They aren’t buying a visit to my home, or a picture of me with Aunt Mable, or a look into my private life. When I’m on tour, I’m happy to sign books, pose for pictures and have coffee with them if I can fit it into my schedule, but when I’m home, I want my private life to stay private. I can finally say ‘No.’”

I wouldn’t be surprised if bestsellers have eight-foot iron fences surrounding their homes. Those of us who aren’t that well known might want to experience the aura of success for a while but tempting stalkers and fans who constantly ring your doorbell would eventually wear a writer down.

I’ve occasionally received email asking for autographed pictures from as far away as Greece, or autographed books to be auctioned off for a charitable event, which is flattering and I’ve gladly complied. But can you imagine that on a such a grand scale that you'd have to hire a secretary or PR firm to handle all the requests? No wonder Dean Koontz built a house large enough to accommodate every activity, away from mainstream America.

Now that we’ve moved to a mountaintop ranch more than a dozen miles from the nearest town--a great place to write--few people are going to come knocking at my door. It may get lonely up here. :-)

I Just Want Somebody to Love

By Beth Terrell

Lately, I've had occasion to read a number of manuscripts from aspiring authors. Some have been excellent, some interesting but rough around the edges, and some in need of serious editing. One of the most frustrating issues I've seen is the grammatically polished manuscript that lacks emotional resonance. I hear the same complaint from others who are involved in the same endeavor as I. "This is very well written, but...," followed by a helpless gesture. "No spark." It's frustrating because these stories are written by good writers, writers who have worked at their craft and who clearly have ability.

Sometimes the plots are action-packed, but there's no one with whom the reader can be emotionally engaged. These stories, no matter how brilliantly-conceived, feel flat. Sometimes there is a remarkable prologue that is both poignant and authentic, with a richness of detail and a depth of emotion that made me say, "Yes! This is what it's all about." But then, chapter one would bring an adequately written scene with a reasonably likable protagonist doing things that ought to be rife with tension but somehow aren't. Often, the rest of the piece has no connection to the prologue, or the connection is only tangential. Sometimes the story is elegantly written, but the writer gets caught up in the language and forgets to tell the story. Beautiful writing can only carry a story so far; if there are twenty pages between the time our hero pours a vodka tonic and the time he takes his first sip of it, there's a good chance the story could use some tightening. (I'm talking about mystery/suspense, not literary fiction, but even in literary fiction, a writer who's going to try that had better be very, very good at it.)

I think this happens for several reasons. First, we know our characters so well, we often think we've put things on the page that we haven't. "Of course she locked him out of the house and threw his electric guitar out the window. He knew her father was an abusive drunk who beat and humiliated her throughout her childhood, but he still came home three sheets in the wind after a night out with the boys." We know our character's motivations, but unless we find a way to (subtly) show our readers this, they'll just think she's an irrational witch who just broke her husband's most prized possession without warning.

Another reason may be that we tend to do more of what we do well. Elmore Leonard does dialogue very well. You'll notice that his books have a lot of dialogue. James Lee Burke is a master of description. Guess what his book is full of. Of course, Leonard and Burke are geniuses at what they do, but we lesser souls do the same thing. I'm good at character development. The first draft of my book had almost no plot at all, but boy did it have character development. It was one long character study with a little thread of mystery woven through it. I'm pretty good at dialogue too, so naturally, people in my first draft talked a lot. To make that book into something readable, I had to become aware of my strengths and weaknesses and then work hard to showcase the former and strengthen the latter. I'm still no James Lee Burke, but I learned how and when to describe things. I'm no Philip Margolin, but I learned how to plot.

Reading these manuscripts taught me that, while the ability to write beautifully is a great gift, it can only carry a book so far. The reader has to care about what happens---and they usually only care what happens if they care who it's happening to.

Give us someone to love, though, and we'll follow you anywhere.

You Gotta Have Heart

By Beth Terrell

The topic du jour at work of late has been the Olympics. We’ve seen story after story about these athletes—the greatest in the world—and the sacrifices they’ve made to get to the winter games in Vancouver. We saw a pairs skater go onto the ice with torn tendons in one ankle; she skated beautifully, and no one watching could have guessed she was in terrible pain. We saw a speed skater with metal pins holding the bones of his forearm together. We saw a downhill skier who, after a debilitating accident, competed in her sport of choice three weeks after doctors told her it would be months before she could even begin to walk. We saw a skater perform on the day of her mother’s death, and we saw the team from Georgia carry on after the tragic loss of one of their teammates on the first day of the games. No doubt about it, these young men and women have a special kind of courage—the kind we often call Heart.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I have what it takes to hobble out into the snow with a sprained ankle, put on a pair of skis, and pitch myself down the side of a mountain. Thankfully, as a writer, I don’t have to. But I think writing requires its own brand of Heart.

Like Olympic athletes, writers spend thousands of hours honing our craft. I’ve read that you have to write a million words before you become a master of your art. That means showing up at the computer (or paper, or typewriter), whether we feel like it or not, whether inspiration strikes or not. Day after day, word after word, one sentence after another.

Like Olympic athletes, writers “put themselves out there.” There’s no place to hide when you’re the only one on the ice, or the only one on the ski slope, and there’s no place to hide when your name is on a book that can be picked up and read by potentially thousands of readers. Olympic athletes have to deal with judges and timers. Writers have to deal with critics and reviewers. Olympic athletes give a hundred percent to every competition. Writers give a hundred percent to every book. We put our hearts on the page for the world to see.

Olympic athletes never give up. In the face of injuries, poor performances, broken equipment, and discouraging words from others, they persevere. Writers persevere as well. Today, I read an article about a writer with an impressive number of published short stories—and 11,000 rejections. Can you imagine how hard it must be to keep writing and submitting after 11,000 rejections? Now, that takes Heart.

No, I don’t have what it takes to be an Olympic athlete, but I hope I have—or at least can cultivate—that special kind of courage it takes to be a writer. I hope I have a writer’s Heart.

In the Beginning, There Was...Confusion

By Beth Terrell

I've met writers who say their first chapters never change. The first words they write are the first words the reader reads. Let me just say, I hate those guys. Okay, hate is a strong word, especially since every single one of them is someone I like. Let's go with, I wish I worked that way.

My beginnings apparently serve one purpose and one purpose only: they help me start the book. They act as a springboard from which I can cobble a story with a middle and an end. Then I go back and realize that nice shiny opening I thought I had just doesn't work. What the...? How did that happen?

The first draft of my first book, Racing the Devil, began with Jared, our hero, musing on the circumstances that led to his being framed for murder. "I think every guy has one woman he wishes he'd said no to. I wish I could say mine was a tall, busty blonde with legs up to there and a smile like a Swedish supermodel, but the truth is, she was just a not-bad-looking woman with dishwater hair and big teeth. All I can say is, if I knew how things would play out, I'd have held out for, say Cindy Crawford."

Bleah. Awful. To begin with, nothing's happening. Just a guy thinking back on a relationship that went badly. How boring can you get? To make matters worse, it's one of those, "little did I know" sections that I absolutely hate. Whenever I see them, I hold up a cross and a string of garlic in hopes that they'll slink back into whatever crypt they crawled out of. Worse still, while it was necessary for Jared to become...uh...intimate with this woman, it was completely out of character for him to pick up a complete stranger in a bar and shag her. No matter how I twisted and turned this scene, I just couldn't make it believable. He wouldn't do it.

I needed a better opening. It had to be evocative, and it had to plop the reader directly into the scene, and something had to be happening. Most of all, it had to make sense in the context of his character. Since the plot depends on her having seduced him (so she could plant his DNA at a murder scene), I needed to figure out what would make him do something so uncharacteristic. Yes, he's grieving over the dissolution of his marriage, but that's just not enough. Fortunately, he has a weakness I could exploit: he's a sucker for a woman in trouble. If I can convince him that this woman is in distress, he'll relax his defenses. Or, for all you Star Trek fans, "His shields are down, Scotty. Phasers set on stun!"

With that insight, I knew I was on the right track. I needed a damsel in distress. I just had to figure out what kind of distress. A flat tire or vehicular breakdown would get his attention, but how would she be sure he would be the one to stop? Then I had it. She is--or seems to be--a battered woman with an abusive boyfriend, and she asks Jared to protect her. His Galahad complex rears its head. Once he's agreed to help her, she pushes for a more intimate encounter and he realizes she wants something more than a protector. He resists at first, not wanting to take advantage, but she insists that she needs the comfort. With the hook set, she reels him in.

The new beginning goes like this: "Even in the dim light of the bar, I could see the bruises. Beginning just below one eye, they spread down the side of her face and neck, tinged the blue rose tatoo above the swell of her breast, and seeped beneath the plunging neckline of her scarlet halter. She paused inside the door, hugging herself. Her gaze swept the room, lit briefly on one face, then another. Looking for somthing, or someone. Or maybe for someone's absence."

It may not be Faulkner, but I think that's a heck of a lot better.

You'd think I'd have the whole beginning thing down now, but no. Book 2 began with what I still think is a terrific first line: Flirt with the devil, and don't be surprised if he asks you to dance. Unfortunately, the scene it preceded was the wrong place to start the book. Not too soon, the way most books on writing warn, but too late. As it turned out, I needed to start the book about three scenes earlier. Of course, I couldn't just figure this out in one blinding flash of insight. I realized I needed to show the scene before "flirt with the devil." Then, when I'd done that, I lollygagged around for awhile, thinking it was the new shiny beginning I needed. After awhile, I realized I needed to go back and do the scene before that. More pemature satisfaction. Finally, I found the right first scene. The ending of the scene is spot on, maybe the best thing I've ever written, but I'm still struggling to find the perfect first pages to lead into it. I've written two very different versions and still can't decide between the two of them. I know I will, but those first fifty pages are crucial, and I want to get it right.

Fortunately, writing is a fairly forgiving pursuit. In writing, unlike professional baseball, there are do-overs.

Pre-Published?

By Beth Terrell

Today, I came across not one, but two different blogs complaining about the use of the term pre-published to refer to writers with no published works. It seems a number of aspiring writers are referring to themselves as pre-published and that a number of published authors are taking offense at the practice.

One commenter compared pre-published to pre-med and pre-law, but that the latter two were valid terms because they implied a specific course of study and an implication that the pre-med/pre-law student was expressing a serious intent to attend medical/law school. Thus, even if he or she never actually entered the medical/legal profession, the student had fulfilled the promise of the "pre" label by entering the medical or law program. However, there is no specific course of study for the aspiring author. With no program to enter, the only way to fulfill the promise of the label would be to actually BE published. Since there is no guarantee that the writer in question has what it takes to become published (the argument goes), claiming to be pre-published is akin to claiming to be pre-rich, pre-thin, or a pre-Nobel-Prize-winner. (Hmm. I wouldn't mind being pre-rich or pre-thin, either.) Apparently, a lot of people think anyone who would describe himself or herself as pre-published is: arrogant, delusional, full of false hope, pathetic, or all of the above. Unpublished writers, they say, should just call themselves what they are: unpublished.

But when I first started hearing the term, it was being used by published authors to described other writers who hadn't (or hadn't yet) signed publishing contracts. Some were in the query process, and others had never completed so much as a short story, but all dreamed of one day becoming professional authors. The published authors who used the term weren't trying to be cute or coy. They used the "pre-published" as a sort of "attaboy," or "hang in there" or "You'll make it, just don't give up." The term was inclusive. It was created as a kindness.

"Pre-published" sounds like hope. "Unpublished," on the other hand, is reminiscent of all those other "un" words: unloved, unwanted, unfortunate, unworthy. Nobody wants to be an "un."

To me, a writer who says "I am pre-published" IS expressing a serious intent. He (or she) is saying , "I will do whatever it takes to raise the quality of my writing to a publishable level, and then I will do what is necessary to find a publisher and an audience for that work." Does every writer who calls himself or herself pre-published go on to be published? Of course not, just as not every pre-law student goes to law school.

But I say, what's the harm? In this difficult profession, the "pre-published" label gives some aspiring writers a little hope. I don't know about you, but to me, that doesn't sound like a bad thing.

Writing is Easy...

By Beth Terrell

Gene Fowler once said, "Writing is easy. Just stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead." Or how about Ben Hecht's, "Writing is easy. Just open a vein." We've talked a lot about how much fun writing is (and it is!). None of us seems to have too much trouble with writer's block. I have a dear friend, a brilliant writer, who has been unable to write creatively for years. I've been fortunate that, when I do get stuck, I can usually find a way through it pretty easily. I write fiction, which is a joy to me; if I wrote two books a year and never had another new idea, I would still be writing for the next fifty years. I sometimes get busy; I sometimes have to find my way through a section that isn't working; but I don't get blocked.

But this week, I've had a very specific type of writer's block: Blogger's Block. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has it, since when I thought I'd coined the name and Googled it, I got 44,000 hits. That's a lot of blockage.

Take yesterday for example. I spent much of the day coming up with and discarding ideas. At 8:00, I sat down in front of my computer fully intending to write my blog post a day ahead of time. At 11:30, when I had to go to bed because I had to get up and travel, I still had a blank title box and "By Beth Terrell" in the composition box. Not an auspicious beginning. Not a single idea had been able to gasp past the finish line.

Today, I my mom, brother, and I drove from Nashville to a little town just north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania (we'll finish the last leg of our trip tomorrow). We checked into a Country Hearth Inn & Suites and ate at a nearby Italian restaurant (crab manicotti!). Then I came back to the room and pulled up the composition box again. No title. "By Beth Terrell." Bleh.

Took a shower while mom checked her email. Checked my own email and responded to the ones that couldn't wait. Made a couple of false starts on the blog entry and couldn't for the life of me think of anything to write that anybody would particularly want to read about. Checked email again and found a link from my sister-in-law to a video of a group of people at Dragoncon (a fantasy and sf convention) trying to break the world's record for the number of people dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" in one place. The previous record was a 242 by students at William and Mary. Dragoncon had 902. Now this, I could not resist.

If you're the least bit curious to see zombies, Klingons, a man dressed as a giant silver glove, sort of tentacled creature with eyestalks, and a host of other costumed and plainclothes folks dancing in semi-unison to Michael Jackson's "Thriller," you can see it here: http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1345089824?bctid=37858935001.

I came back to the composition page refreshed and a great deal more amused. Made a couple more false starts. Chuckled about the Dragoncon dancers. Called my husband and complained that I couldn't think of anything to write that anybody would want to read. Apparently, I'm in a funk. He said it didn't matter. Write anything. Just write something.

This is the something, and the point of it is, my husband is a wise man. I often meet writers who say they would love to write if...They would write if only...They have this great idea, but...How do I start? What do I do? What if a publisher won't buy it? What if no one reads it?

The answer is always the same. Just write something.

Resource for Writers

By Beth Terrell

Yesterday, Mark wrote about finding gems in our backyards. Today, I'm going to share a gem I found on the Internet a few days ago.

You may be familiar with a mystery writer named Joe Konrath (J.A. Konrath). Joe is a writing machine, cranking out 4,000 (or more) words a day. He's also a marketing machine: he visited more than 500 bookstores the year his first Lt. Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels book came out. He also blogs, does speaking engagements, and engages in a multitude of other marketing strategies. Pretty effectively, I might add. It doesn't hurt that he's a darn good writer.

Joe's blog, http://www.jakonrath.com, has always been a treasure trove for writers, and he's made it even better by adding a free download of an e-book called The Newbie's Guide to Publishing. That's right, free. He compiled the book after realizing that he had compiled over 300,000 words about writing and publishing, and it was getting difficult for his readers to sift through the archives for the answers to their specific questions.

The Newbie's Guide to Publishing may be the most comprehensive book of advice for writers ever written, and as an added perk, Joe has added links to each section (post) so that you can go to the original post and read the thread of comments that goes with it. You can even add comments of your own.There are a number of other perks as well. For instance, in the post about outlining, there's a link to his outline for Bloody Mary, one of his "Jack Daniels" mysteries.

I wasn't able to download the book to my hard drive, but I have it on my "favorites" and can click to it whenever I want, which is often. Among the topics he addresses are: Avoiding Plodding Plotting. Salable Characters, How I Got My Agent and a Three-Book Deal, Six Things You Should Never Put In a Query, Bad Promotion Techniques, How to Make a Disastrous Book Signing a Success, and many, many more.

Did I mention this e-book is 751 pages long? That's a lot of good advice.

Wherever you are on the writing continuum (aspiring to bestseller), Joe's e-book has something that will help you become a better writer and a better marketer.

Many thanks, Joe.

Time to Write

by Beth Terrell

The soap opera Grandma watched when I was a child opened with a big hourglass that filled the screen. "Like sand through the hourglass," the voice-over actor intoned, "so are the days of our lives."

Remember how time used to stretch out in front of us like a never-ending landscape? Summers lasted forever. We had all the time in the world to be artists and astronauts, teachers and rodeo riders, circus performers and writers. But time is fuller than it used to be. And it seems so much shorter. In the past two weeks, when I've been working both shifts at work and dealing with the death of our beloved Tibetan Spaniel, Karma, I've also been feeling the ache of not writing.

This morning, I saw a book on my kitchen table called Time to Write by Kelly L. Stone. In it, Stone interviews more than 100 professional writers from all genres. Among them are Tess Gerritsen, Hallie Ephron , C.J. Box, Jodi Picoult, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Rick Mofina, and Rhonda Pollero. I picked up the book and flipped through it. I'd read it before, but just skimming the pages made me feel better.

The book reminded me that there are as many ways of carving out writing time as there writers. Roxanne St. Claire (Thrill Me to Death) wrote her first published novel betwwen 4:45 and 7:00 AM. Sabrina Jeffries (Only a Duke Will Do) wrote after her husband and son went to bed. Bestselling author Tess Gerritson was a physician who wrote whenever she could--"weekends, early mornings, and late nights. After I got home, as soon as the kids were put down, I'd start writing."

Jodi Picoult used to "do a little work," close her office door, and then write. (I don't advise this for anyone who actually needs his or her job!)

Life sometimes seems determined to get in the way of writing. A child needs help with a science project; a parent or grandparent is diagnosed with Alzheimer's; a big project with a looming deadline crops up at the office. It is, as my friend Christina once said, like being nibbled to death by geese. For any writer who struggles to find time for the writing amidst job obligations, family time, housekeeping (what's that?), yard work, pet care, and all the other geese life throws our way, Time to Write delivers a simple message: If you have a Burning Desire to Write, there is a way.

Today, I scribbled a few paragraphs on the back of a memo. Tomorrow, I'll scribble a few more. It's the only way to defeat the geese.

Cloudy With a Chance of Zombies

By Beth Terrell

Several posts ago, I wrote about dreams--how they fascinate me, how a number of writers have had the plots of their novels come to them in dreams. Where do dreams come from? What function do they serve? If dreams are a reflection of the dreamer, what does this one say about me? It's one of my favorites, one of my few first-person dreams. Usually, I dream in third person, and the story unfolds like a movie.

The invasion happened overnight. One day everything was normal. The next, the world was overrun by zombies. In some ways, they were just like you saw in the movies--slow and stupid--and at first they were easy to avoid. But beneath the stupid and behind the glazed expression, there was hatred. It wasn't brains they wanted. It was flesh. That, and maybe new converts. You'd see them shuffling along in herds, heads lolling, mouths agape, ragged clothes grimy with dirt and blood. They were slow, but they had perseverance. You had to give them that. I mean, they never slept, so it was inevitable that, sooner or later, they would pick off a few of the careless or weak. Someone who fell asleep in a park or left a door unlocked, or who just happened to have a fatal lapse of concentration. They'd close their eyes and wake up--if you could call it that--with great chunks ripped from their bodies and a wash of blood down the front of their shirts.

Their ranks swelled, and it got harder and harder to stay away from them. They were everywhere.

Then they got smart. They moved a little faster. Looked a little less empty around the eyes. They seemed less like herds than like packs. We kept on the move, never staying in one place too long, because that was how they got you. Smelled you maybe. Or maybe they had some weird kind of extra sense, like bats. Not sonar, exactly, but something that told them when they were in the presence of prey--even when it was carefully concealed.

There were twelve of us. We traveled in a pack of our own, steering wide of what were once human settlements and hiding from roving zombies and gangs of still-human predators.

Then one day, they got Bill. Before the invasion, Bill was my financial advisor. We went to college together. I still don't know how they got him. We just turned around, and he was gone.

Now, any reasonable person would have realized it was too late to do anything for Bill. Friend or no friend, he was a goner. But there was no blood on the ground where he disappeared, and no one had heard him cry out. I wondered if there was a chance he was still alive. None of us had ever heard of zombies taking prisoners, but they were doing lots of things they'd never done before. They were...how could I say it?...They were evolving.

We crept to the nearest colony. There were groups of zombies wandering around the area. We crossed a narrow wooden bridge, and my stomach clenched when I looked down and saw what looked like sharks thrashing in the water below. A bloody stain spread across the surface of the water.

"Don't look down," said my friend David. "They can't hurt us up here."

We found Bill behind a building that had once been a warehouse. He was still alive, splayed flat on his back and tied by his wrists and ankles to stakes set in the ground. A pile of dried wood piled beside him suggested he'd been invited to a bonfire--probably as the roast. We looked around. Zombies all around, closing in on us. They didn't seem to know we were there, but if we stayed put, it was just a matter of time.

Behind us, a slurred voice said, "I can help you."

Startled, we spun to face the speaker. It was Bill. But Bill was bound and staked to the ground. How...?

We looked closer at the speaker. It was Bill, but not Bill. They say everyone has a double somewhere. Bill's must have got zombie-fied awhile back.

"I can help you," it said again.

Bill's undead double crept over to where Bill lay, untied him with fumbling fingers, and plopped into his place. There was a hint of emotion on the Double's face, but it was impossible to tell what it was. Fear? Resignation? Quickly, we thanked him and slipped the bonds around his ankles and wrists, tying them loosely so that the Double might have a chance to escape. None of us had ever seen a thing like this. Self-sacrifice? From a zombie? That was awfully nice of him.

We looked around. The area was thick with undead. Since there was no way out, we ducked into the old warehouse and hoped for the best.

There were zombies inside too. We ducked down the aisles, between shelving units, getting separated, occasionally seeing glimpses of each other. Finally, only David and I were left. I told myself the others had escaped. That they would be just fine. But David and I were in trouble. The zombies were closing in, herding us toward the side door of the warehouse. I looked outside and saw a milling crowd of zombies. Zombies in front of us, zombies behind. If we stayed where we were, the ones inside would catch us for sure. If we stepped outside, the ones on the porch and in the yard would see us and close in for the kill.

We looked at each other.

"What now?" David asked.

I shook my head. Hopeless. I said, "We go out there and pretend to be dead."

"It's a long shot."

"It's all we can do."

He nodded. We let our heads loll, tried to look hollow inside, and shuffled outside. He moved out among the zombies. I sat on the porch steps beside a zombie in bloodstained overalls. He was a little bit chubby, a little bit bald, with boyish features. Kind of cute, in an undead sort of way. Our gazes met, and I realized with a shiver of fear that he knew I was still alive.

I looked around again. There were zombies everywhere. There was no place to run.

"I brought you something," he said. "I've been trying to give it to you." He held up an oversized T-shirt. It was long enough to be a dress. Yellow, with a giant smiley face on the front. He said, "I wondered if I could take you to the dance."

A dance. A zombie dance. It was a heck of a lot better than being eaten. I reached for the T-shirt and said, "I guess I could do that."

He smiled. Stiffly, like rigor mortis had set in. But still, a smile was a smile.

The zombies had begun to move less like Herman Munster and more like just plain people. I suddenly understood that it was the quickness of our movements that had frightened them and driven them mad. Now that they were catching up with us, they felt more kindly toward us. Which was a big improvement.

I closed my eyes and saw how it would be. Humans and zombies, living and working side by side. I heard music, something jazzy, saw an apartment building. Through the windows I could see people dancing. In one room, a zombie in a black sweater, black trousers, and a red beret spun and dipped his wife, a June Cleaver-ish zombie in a poplin dress and an apron. They danced as they waited for the toaster to release their English muffins. A human girl stood on her father's feet as they waltzed in their living room. On the next floor, a mixed group of humans and zombies pulsed to heavy metal music, eating hors d'oeuvres and swilling beers.

It was a wonderful world.

Where do dreams come from? The same place stories come from: the subconscious mind. You see, writers are always writing, even in their sleep.

Character Creation and the Enneagram

By Beth Terrell

When I was a teenager, I discovered a book called Linda Goodman's Sun Signs. Despite being a rather stereotypical Taurus, I never bought into the idea that everyone born in a certain month would behave a certain way, but I loved the part of each chapter that described the strengths, weaknesses, and characteristics of each sign. I would devise various characters of each type, then put characters of different types in the same situation and explore how each would react.

Looking back, I realize those characterizations worked because they were based on the idea that people who have certain qualities generally have a specific constellation of interrelated qualities. In essence, I was using the Sun Signs descriptions as a rudimentary way of personality typing. There are a number of more scientific ways to classify personality. The Meyers-Briggs method of personality typing divides people into categories based on the following categories: introversion vs. extroversion, intuiting vs. sensing, thinking vs. feeling, and judging vs. perceiving.

My favorite method of typing personality is the Enneagram of Personality. Many writers have found this system helpful in creating complex, multi-dimensional characters. Cindi Brown, who co-teaches an Enneagram class with Mary Beth Ross and authors a blog called the Enneagram Agency (http://enneagramagency.blogspot.com), says, "The Enneagram is good for developing realistic characters for the same reasons it is good for understanding real people -- it's a complex and nuanced model of the human psyche that is amazingly predictive. It can tell you how a certain type of person will likely change, for better or worse, over the course of their 'story arc.'"

According to the Enneagram Institute, the nine types are as follows:

One: The Reformer (principled, purposeful, self-controlled, perfectionistic)

Two: The Helper (demonstrative, generous, people-pleasing, possessive)

Three: The Achiever (adaptive, excelling, driven, image-conscious)

Four: The Individualist (expressive, dramatic, self-absorbed, temperamental)

Five: The Investigator (perceptive, innovative, secretive, isolated)

Six: The Loyalist (engaging, responsible, anxious, suspicious)

Seven: The Enthusiast ((spontaneous, versatile, distractible, scattered)

Eight: The Challenger (self-confident, decisive, willful, confrontational)

Nine: The Peacemaker (receptive, reassuring, agreeable, complacent)

The thing I like best about the Enneagram of Personality is that it doesn't stop at describing a person's basic traits. It also explores how each type thinks and behaves at each of nine levels of mental/emotional/spiritual health. For example, an Eight at the highest level of health might be the noble protector, using his strength to defend the weak. An Eight at the lowest level of health might be a terrorist or mass murderer, striking out viciously at others . Robert Crais's beloved character Joe Pike might be an example of a healthy Eight. At the extreme low end of the Eight continuum, we might find someone like the BTK killer.

Judith Searle, the author of The Literary Enneagram: Characters From the Inside Out, says, "Unlike standard typologies, which provide only static lists of traits, the Enneagram of Personality offers insights into the ways individuals of different temperaments change under stress and when feeling secure."

Susan Reynolds and Paula Munier have written a book called The Enneagram for Writers: Using an Ancient Personality System to Create Unforgettable Characters. The book explains how to use the nine Enneagram types to create characters with depth and realism. Unfortunately, as of this writing, it has yet to be released, but keep your eyes open, since it promises to be a good one.

While you're waiting, though, here are two very useful books on using the Enneagram to create three-dimensional characters. The first is Believable Characters: Creating with Enneagrams by Laurie Schnebly. The second, by Anne Hart, is targeted to writers of mysteries and suspense: Tools for Mystery Writers: Writing Suspense Using Hidden Personality Traits.

Finally, one of the most popular books for anyone with an interest in learning more about the Enneagram is The Wisdom of the Enneagram by Don Richard Riso.

Whatever your feelings about personality typing, even a cursory study of the enneagram is sure to inspire a host of intriguing characters and plots to put them in.

And my protagonist, Jared McKean? Healthy Eight with a Nine wing.

Sweet Dreams

By Beth Terrell

When I was a little girl, a family friend once told me, "If you tell your dreams before breakfast, the three bears will come down from the hills and eat you." This was enough to make me hold my tongue until after the table was cleared, but not enough to keep me from sharing my dreams.

I've been told that no one likes to hear other people's dreams. Apparently, I'm an exception to the rule. Dreams fascinate me--my dreams, your dreams, everybody's dreams. Listening to someone else's dream is like a glimpse into another person's mind.

They say everyone dreams, though not everyone remembers. I've also heard that you can increase the chances of remembering your dreams by keeping a journal by the bed and writing down everything you remember about your dream the moment you wake up. The more frequently you do this, the easier it becomes to remember your dreams.

Betty Webb, author of Desert Cut and Desert Wives, dreamed Lena Jones, the protagonist of her Arizona-based mystery series. I've heard of other writers who dreamed the plots of their novels. I don't remember all my dreams, and some of the ones I do remember aren't interesting enough to share. But every now and again, I have a dream that seems like a gift, a dream that has a plot and characters, a dream that makes me open my eyes and think, "Thank you, God."

I usually dream in close third person, and while there is a protagonist with whom I identify and whose emotions I share, it is more like watching a movie than anything else. Friends who don't write are often baffled by this. An artist friend dreams in pictures, all light and form and color. This makes me wonder if writers dream differently from accountants or architects or attorneys or visual artists, not only in content but in structure.

Because of this fascination with dreams, I put a dream journal on my website: www.elizabethterrell.com. I've been thinking of doing a Dream Project, in which people email me their dreams, genders, hobbies, and occupations, and we compare and contrast the types of dreams different people have.

Dreams can reveal character in our stories as well, but they must be used with caution. The action-packed beginning scene that turns out to be a dream is not only a cliche, but a sure way to make the reader feel cheated. Long, detailed dream sequences are more likely to interrupt the action and feel self-indulgent than to rivet the reader to the page. On the other hand, a few lines or a paragraph about a troubling dream can illustrate a character's inner turmoil: Even in sleep, Elise couldn't escape her ex-husband. He chased her through her dreams, his belly distended with other women's rotting flesh, so close behind her that his grasping fingers brushed the back of her shirt. She woke up gasping, voiceless, tangled in the bedclothes, the sour smell of fear and sweat rising from the sheets.

Okay, that's not great writing, but doesn't it show how much Elise fears her ex-husband? Much more than this, though, and we risk losing the reader. Not every story needs a dream, and even those that do rarely benefit from excessive detail. Dreams in fiction are like fine spices, which can enhance a good meal--or ruin it.

Sweet dreams!

Follow the Love

By Beth Terrell

Once, in a book about acting, I read that, when performing a scene, you have to find the love.

Let's say Bob and Melanie are fighting. If they're fighting just because they hate each other, it isn't especially interesting. There's not much depth or complexity in that. But if they're fighting because he loves her but he's afraid she's in love with another man, and she does love the other man but she also loves Bob, there are all kinds of levels to work with. If John murders Sarah because he hates her, it's flat. And by extension, he seems flat. But if John murders Sarah because he loves Stephanie, and Sarah caused the accident that left Stephanie in a vegetative state...See? Layers. John becomes more complex, more interesting, more believable.

Follow the love.

This advice is useful for writers as well. Thomas Harris's earlier works, Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs make good use of this premise. In Red Dragon, Francis Dolarhyde is a monster, but he is driven by a yearning for love. Silence of the Lambs is made more chilling (and gripping) by the sense that Hannibal Lecter, in his horrible way, loves Clarice Starling. When he tells her, "The world is a more interesting place with you in it," it sends a shiver through the reader. What could be more terrifying than Lecter's love?

Would Janet Evanovitch's Stephanie Plum series be as popular without the Stephanie/Morelli/Ranger love triangle? I doubt it. I suspect Stephanie's zany antics as a singularly unconventional bounty hunter would wear thin if not for her loving relationships with Morelli, Ranger, her parents, Grandma Mazur, Lula, and even Rex the Hamster. Readers want to know which man Stephanie will choose, what outlandish outfit Lula will wear, what manner of mischief Grandma Mazur will get herself into. We care because Stephanie cares.

Jonathan Kellerman writes a mystery/suspense series about psychologist and police consultant Alex Delaware. Throughout the series, Alex has a deep friendship with a gay detective named Milo and an on-again, off-again relationship with a woman named Robin. These relationships are what bring me back to this series again and again. When Milo, pale and out of shape, puffs up a hill behind Alex in pursuit of a villain, I worry for him. I think, Oh no! Is Milo going to have a heart attack? Whym, oh why did he eat that double cheeseburger?! I know what it would mean to Alex to lose his good friend, and because I know this, every time I read one of Kellerman's books, the stakes are high. It's not the plots that keep me turning the pages book after book (though the plots are intriguing). It's the love.

Writers and critics often complain about Nicholas Sparks. He isn't even a good writer, some say. His writing is simplistic, his plots are dull, and his characters lack depth. Yet, his books strike a chord with readers, who flock to the bookstores to buy his latest works. Hollywood makes poignant movies based on his novels. People openly weep at his endings. They know they are being blatantly manipulated by the author, but they cry anyway. And they can hardly wait for the next book. Why? Could it be because Sparks has a gift for finding and following the love?

It is only when we love that we have anything to lose, and only when a character has something to lose that readers begin to care.

Nicholas Sparks knows that. Readers know it too.

The Perfect Protagonist

By Beth Terrell

I’ve heard it said that the most important character in any work of fiction is the villain, because the villain is the catalyst for the action and the one who forces change on the protagonist. But for me, the most important character in any novel is the protagonist. The most menacing villain in the world won’t save a book if we don’t care about the protagonist. (Think of Silence of the Lambs. Hannibal Lecter was a fascinating villain, but only because we cared about Clarice Starling. The later Lecter books don’t strike the same chord, because there’s no one we can believe in.) Since we're talking about mysteries and crime fiction, the protagonist is generally the sleuth, the person who is going to solve the mystery.

Can you imagine Miss Marple slugging it out with a hopped-up pimp in a shadowy alley that smells of urine and rotting garbage? Can you imagine Mike Hammer sipping tea in a parson's parlor, quietly ruminating about the psychological foibles of a small-town microcosm of society? Well, maybe you can--we're readers and writers after all; we live on imagination--but the image just doesn't hold up over the long haul. Poor Miss Marple would end up with a cut throat or a broken hip, and Mike Hammer would punch out the parson, and the balance of the universe would be restored. The story must be true to the characters.

This is not to say that the characters "take over the story" and begin writing it themselves (even though a lot of writers say they do). We like to believe that our characters, through our very own literary magic, can, like the Velveteen Rabbit, become real if we only want it badly enough. In a sense, they do become real--to us, and we hope to our readers. But what really happens when the characters "take over" is that the writer is in that creative zone, where the creative brain has suddenly realized who the characters are, what they would do, and where the story needs to go. It isn't working at the writing any more. It's playing. Let it play!

If it feels like the characters are taking over, this is the time to let them. Just remember that characters, like flesh-and-blood folks, don’t always make the right decisions. For paper-and-ink folks, the right decision is the authentic one. The wrong decision doesn’t ring true. Characters, like the rest of us, want to take the easy way out. They don’t want all this trouble, but we, as writers, have to give it to them anyway.

Characters also go astray sometimes. The creative brain thinks, “Oh, wouldn’t it be cool if Miss Marple slugged the parson?!” and Miss Marple thinks, “Hey, that’s way more interesting than nibbling on scones and sipping tepid tea!” and veers off in a direction that isn’t true to character and doesn’t serve the story. The creative brain can lead you to some wonderful places, but it can also lead you far afield. As writers, we get to play with our characters, but sooner or later, if we want to pursue this business called writing, we have to put on our editor hats and make sure they stay true to themselves.