WRITING WORKSHOP – Page 8 – C.M. Mayo's Book Notes & Convos

Writers’ Blogs (and My Blog): Eight Conclusions After 8 Years of Blogging

This is the edited transcript of my talk for the Associated Writing Programs conference panel discussion “Homesteading the Digital Frontier: Writers’ Blogs.”

How to blog, how not to blog… that was a hot topic a few years ago, when blogging was new, and indeed in 2008, for the Maryland Writers Association conference I gave a talk on the best practices for writers’ blogs. But that was then and this is now. Now I don’t have so much advice; what I have are some conclusions about what’s right for me and, sort of maybe kind of, by extension, for other literary writers. There isn’t any one right way to do this– what might annoy this reader enchants another, and anyway, someone is always barging in with something new.

To switch metaphors: this genre is built of jelly. Electrified jelly in rainbow hues.

I started blogging with Madam Mayo back in the spring of 2006. I kept at it, blogging once, twice, sometimes more often, every week. By the end of this March it will have been eight years. What have I concluded?

# 1. Maybe not everyone else is, but I remain charmed by the name of my blog, Madam Mayo.

It seems almost nobody gets that it’s a play on Madam Mao. Oh well! It still makes me chuckle.

As a reader, I appreciate fun or at least memorable names for blogs. A few examples:
Mr. Money Mustache
Pigs, Gourds and Wikis (Liz Castro)
Jenny Redbug (Jennifer Silva Redmond)
E-Notes (E. Ethelbert Miller)
Real Delia (Delia Lloyd)
Cool Tools (Kevin Kelly)
The Metaphysical Traveler (John Kachuba)
The Blue Lantern (Jane Librizzi)
Chico Lingo (Sergio Troncoso)
Quid Plura? (Jeff Sypeck)
Poet Reb Livingston’s now unavailable blog, Home Schooled By a Cackling Jackal, that was my all-time fave.

#2. Whoa, blogging has an opportunity cost!

For me, looking back at eight years, it’s probably a novel that didn’t get written, plus a few essays and articles in newspapers and magazines that didn’t get polished up, submitted and published. Do I regret that? Yes, but not hugely because in those eight years I did manage to publish three books (Mexico: A Traveler’s Literary Companion; a novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire; and Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero and His Secret Book, Spiritist Manual), plus I published several Kindles (Miraculous Air; From Mexico to Miramar; The Building of Quality; El último principe del Imperio Mexicano), plus I promoted a paperback edition of my travel memoir; I also published several articles, scads of book reviews, poems, more translations, and over 30 podcasts. Oh, and I wrote an ebook of writing exercises and an ebook, Podcasting for Writers. So you can’t say I’m not a productive writer. But yes… (sigh)… I do wish I could have written that novel.

# 3. But on the plus side, like a workout sprints for a marathoner, blogging helps me stay in shape as a writer.

Indeed, if I hadn’t been blogging over these past 8 years, perhaps I would not have been as productive as a writer. So maybe the opportunity cost was the other way around! But that’s probably wishful thinking. My sense is I blogged just the right amount for me at the time. I blogged more frequently the first couple of years, back when I was still trying to get my mind around the nature of the genre. Looking forward: Best for me to blog once a week, maybe twice.

# 4. Although my ego would like Madam Mayo blog to draw legions of passionate followers, all perched at the edge of their seats for my next post, ready to fly to their keyboards with their hailstorm of comments… The fact is, writing that strives for an ever-larger following is not the best strategy for me as a literary artist or as a person.

Egos are like big dogs. They protect you, they love you, but they bark a lot and sometimes they slobber. For me—a literary writer whose focus through several books in multiple genres has been examining various regions and aspects and periods of Mexico in an international context, numbers of followers… well, let me put it this way: If what I’d really wanted was a mass following, I wouldn’t be writing the kinds of books I’m writing. QED.

# 5. Not all, certainly, but a sizable number of people who trouble to comment on blogs seem stuck in Emotional Kindergarten.

One day they shall evolve to their next educational opportunity; meanwhile, I am not in the business of managing snotty little brats pushing each other off the swings in Blogland. Therefore I do not manage nor publish comments on my blog. But because I hope I am not shouting into the wind here— I do care about hearing from thoughtful, civilized readers— I always include a link that goes to a contact page on my website. So, with two clicks away from my blog post, any reader can send me an email. What I have very happily learned is that spammers and trolls don’t bother. That extra click and knowing in advance that their comment will probably not be published, wow, that is a Mount Rainier-sized barrier. With my no comments but email link in place, so far, fingers crossed, I have yet to receive an email from anyone but the readers I want to have, that is, courteous and intelligent people.

# 6. Blogging is very much like publishing a literary short story or book— it goes out into the world to an opaque response.

We might scare up some numbers, say, as how many people clicked on a blog post and at what time of day via which search engine, or how many bookstores ordered how many copies of a book. But even with endless hours of crunching through, say, Google Analytics, we may never know the reaction of every single reader. All of us read thousands of things we never comment on, dozens and dozens of books we will never review, we will never write to the author—although some of these works may prove deeply meaningful to us in the course of our lives. As anyone who has published a blog or a book knows, sometimes the silence can be downright eerie. So if you want to write a book or a blog post, it helps to have the tough-mindedness to accept that maybe… you will never know the true, full nature of the response. Maybe the person who will most appreciate a given blog post has not yet been born. Or maybe my best blog post will find its biggest fan next week. Maybe what I said yesterday changed someone’s life today in… Australia. I don’t know. And that’s OK. I write anyway. That is the kind of writer I am.

# 7. More on the plus side: sharing what I call cyberflanerie and celebrating friends and colleagues and books and all wonder of things is a delight.

(In ye olden days, we would take scissors and cut things out of magazines and end up with overstuffed files full of yellowing papers. Difficult to share.)

# 8. Madam Mayo blog is not so much my so-called “platform,” but rather, a net that catches certain special fish— the readers who care about the things I care to write about.

This last conclusion is the one that took me the longest to reach. It seems obvious to me now, and it probably will for you also, but back when blogs were new it was difficult to appreciate both their nature and their potential. Back when, most people thought of them as a diary—a web log— which is how we got the term “blog.” The idea, supposedly, was to talk about yourself, frequently. I know it turned off a lot of writers at the time. I had zero interest in blogging about my personal life.

Another way writers thought about blogs— and at first I had a foot in this camp— was as a digital newspaper column. If you were good, if you put out well-crafted and witty and super informative posts, you’d get readers. You’d be famous! You could sell more of your books! Wow, maybe even sell ads and ka-ching, ka-ching!

But of course, anybody can start a blog. The gates blown open, suddenly, there popped up a million wonderful and a zillion crappy blogs, and everything in between, all muddled up together. Back in 2007, 2008, most serious writers I knew turned their noses up at blogging, as something for wannabes, for kids. But by 2009, 2010, those same writers, nagged by their publishers’ marketing staffs, had started blogging to promote their books. (From what I can see from all those blogs that petered out once the book tour was over, or sometimes not even halfway through, if marketing a book is the only goal, one is unlikely to be able to sustain the energy to keep at it for more than a few months, at best.)

But here’s the wonder: The diary and the newspaper column of yore were not searchable the way digital material is. The paper diary was tucked in someone’s drawer; the newspaper, after a day, lined the bottom of the proverbial parrot cage. OK, a very few people might go search things cataloged in a library. And a collection of newspaper articles might end up in a book… one day. But basically, massive an audience as some newspapers columnists enjoyed, before the digital revolution, their writing was ephemeral.

A blog, however, can be found at anytime by anyone anywhere (OK, maybe not in Burma). As people search for words, phrases, topics, names, and come upon Madam Mayo, and its many blog posts with many links to whatever interests me and all about my works, books, ebooks, podcasts, articles, newsletter, and so on and so forth, it serves as a kind of net that catches a certain kind of fish. Over time, as I continue to blog, to add tags and links, my fishnet grows. So now, after 8 years, I have a very big fishnet. And some very nice fish have come in. Though I don’t know who you all are, I sincerely appreciate you, dear readers. Cheers to you!

More anon.

The Manuscript is Ready—Or is it? What’s Next?

“The Typewriter Manifesto” by Richard Polt,
Plus Cyberflanerie on Technology

An Interview with Alan Rojas Orzechowski
about Maximilian’s Court Painter, Santiago Rebull

My Uncool “Cool Tool”: Grandma’s Recipe Box Solution to Internet Password Management (The Backstory and Two Lessons for Me as a Writer)

THE BACKSTORY AND TWO LESSONS FOR ME AS A WRITER

Oh, what a chuckle I had the other day morning to find my post about Grandma’s Recipe Box Solution to Password Management on Kevin Kelly’s Cool Tools blog. Though I admit, I was dismayed by the torrent of grouchy comments. After having published several books, I’m an old war horse for this sort of thing, but this time, ouch, even as I chuckled, I took a little shrapnel.

Since I thought it might be useful for other writers, here’s the backstory– and the two lessons for me as a writer.

Backstory: I’m a huge fan of Kelly’s Cool Tools blog. Featured tools range from the beautiful free ebook, Butterick’s Practical Typography, to the Weber Rapidfire Chimney Charcoal Starter (a $15 miracle), a solar lamp, a book on how to grow your own seeds, and the $600 Hilty PX-10 Transporter. Whether high-tech or low-tech, new or ancient, it’s a blog about tools– whatever works. So when I saw a call out for Cool Tool blog posts, I thought, ah ha, I’ll write up my low-tech, super cheap but amazingly useful desk tool: a plastic recipe box and index cards for keeping track of my ever-proliferating Internet passwords.

In its humble way, this system works beautifully for me. I remember how I used to struggle to keep all the many email addresses and passwords in some semblance of order– and how others I know struggle with that, too. (For instance, one relative keeps his passwords on Post-Its stuck to his computer monitor, another pins them to a bulletin board by his desk, and another, alas, keeps them, or rather it, in her head: the same easy-to-remember password for everything.)

I dashed off my Cool Tools blog post in about 5 minutes. The blog editor said he liked it, send more.

Well, fine for my ego, but I had not stopped to consider my readers. (Which is ironic; I just spent most of this year thinking very deeply and very carefully about my audience for a book about a controversial and, for some, disturbing subject.) Distracted by the holidays, I just hit that “submit” button to Cool Tools as sunny, helpful me. And as my readers here at Madam Mayo— also a sunny, helpful and literary bunch– would probably appreciate it, so I thought, oh, I’ll just rerun the Cool Tools post on Madam Mayo when it comes out, two birds with one stone.

If I’d thought about it for, like, a split second, it would have occurred to me that, not all, but probably most readers of the Cool Tools blog are younger, tech-savvy guys– or at least they want to see themselves that way, surfing in for their daily dose of cool. A blog post about Grandma’s recipe box method for keeping Internet passwords would most likely rub their fur the wrong way.

A head-slapper, I know.

Immediately comments came in like, April’s Fool Day, right? And, Did Cool Tools get hacked?

The multitude of indignant comments have not enlightened me about using encrypted on-line services for managing Internet passwords; I knew all about that back when. (I didn’t grow up in Palo Alto for nothing.) And I can certainly understand that mobility– having one’s passwords in the palm of one’s hand at all times– is key for many people (you know who are, texting in your sleep). For many, their office is the last place they’d want to leave all their passwords. And, gosh, an astonishing number of people seem to think their house is more likely to burn down than their computer get hacked!! (Could be true if they live in certain parts of California…)

I do love my Internet password management system, I stand by it, and I am confident– and subsequent, more positive, commenters have noted– that it could work well for many people. But if I could rewrite the opening of my Cool Tools blog post, I would have said:

This is a low-tech and easy-to-grok system for those with the following profile:

* A less than photographic memory;
* An appreciation for the need to use unique and difficult-to-guess passwords for their various Internet accounts (shopping, blog, twitter, FB, YouTube, websites, etc);
* No (or a very low) need for digital access away from one’s desk;
* A highly secure and private home office or studio;
* An appreciation for why the KGB recently bought typewriters.

So this system might not be for you– although it just might be for someone you care about who happens to fit this profile.

The lesson for me is not that such an opening could have avoided negative comments. It’s a free country (or at least pretends to be), different people have different opinions, and if some have nothing better to do than spew in the comments section of a blog, well, may they be Buddha in their next incarnation! When writers publish, whether in print or on-line, there are always reactions of all kinds. Taking negative comments seriously, ruminating about them, that’s an amateur’s game. But when comments do bother me… and the overall tone of these did… it’s because some part of me knows that I could have done better. In this instance– lesson number one– I could have more respectfully considered my probable audience.

Or, as Grandma would have put it, not everyone likes duck stew, but whatever you do, don’t serve it cold.

What’s the second lesson? Under the crap, find the pony. The comments of those so indignant at the uncoolness of my paper-based system got me thinking: why paper? And what’s the problem with assuming a digital solution is always superior? Later that afternoon, I went for a walk and couldn’t help noticing how many people were shuffling along like zombies, twiddling their thumbs on their hand-helds. And it occurred to me that old-fashioned paper systems– when appropriate for the user– can, ironically, serve as the most avant garde of tools to help loosen the digital leash. That is my next Cool Tools blog post, if they’ll have it: The Filofax planner.

[ UPDATE: Filofax review has been posted on Cool Tools.]

Key idea: the power of organization in service of a productive and creative life– a life requiring digital prowess, yet rich with large swaths of digital-free time. How to balance that, the digital and the digital-free? On other words, how to leave the hand-held at home and yet remain on-the-ball? Highly efficient paper systems can come in.

I’m also thinking about how this ties into collections of rare books. It’s all about organizing, organizing as adding information.

More anon.

Grandma’s recipe box solution to password management
By C.M. Mayo

Originally published in Cool Tools, January 8, 2014

When the Web was new (I climbed on board in 1995) like everyone else, I started accumulating passwords. Slowly at first, but with two websites to manage and a fondness for on-line shopping, by 1999, I was pinning scraps of paper to my bulletin board, jotting in notebooks, tucking them into my wallet, in various files in the filing cabinet, and, oh heck, just sticking Post-Its to my computer monitor. And more times than I’d like to admit, I forgot to write them down at all. I knew some people who kept their passwords straight by using the same one for everything, but that seemed to me an invitation to hackers.

About ten years ago, I started noting each password on its own 4 x 6 inch index card, then filing it alphabetically by service (e.g., Amazon.com under “A”) in a little box that looks just like my grandmother’s cookie recipe box.

Call it the Grandma’s Recipe Box Solution to Password Management.

On each index card I note:

Name of Service (e.g., Amazon.com)
My password
My username
My email address for this account
Any other relevant information

Now that I’m still on-line in 2014 and managing a plethora of websites, a batch of blogs, two YouTube channels, Vimeo, three Twitter accounts, and do my banking on-line, use PayPal, and have not set foot in a shopping mall in more time than I can remember, I have accumulated a prodigious stack of index cards. But my little plastic index card holder, with its alphabetical tabs, is still right here by my desk, doing the job.

I have found that there are several advantages to this method:

1. I can keep all my passwords at my fingertips (so when it’s time to check my bank balance or tweet or shop on-line, if I cannot recall the one I need password, I just pluck it out);

2. Filing the cards alphabetically allows me to plunk one back in quickly (and find it again just as
quickly);

3. I can use longer and more varied passwords without having to remember them nor go through the hoops of waiting for it to be resent to my email, and then having to click on some link to confirm;

4. If I need to change a password, I just pluck out the card, note the change, and put it back;

5. When I had to cancel one of my email accounts, I was able to whip through the stack of index cards to see which accounts needed updating;

6. It’s cheap and after 10 years the plastic index card holder still looks like new;

7. Its small enough to stash in a locked drawer;

8. Finally, should anything happen to me, my family knows where to retrieve all my passwords to put my affairs in order. That’s a gruesome thought, but a realistic one. Last I checked, no one gets off this planet alive (except astronauts, and only temporarily).

Translating Across the Border

James McWilliams’ The Pecan: A History of America’s Native Nut

Cal Newport’s So Good They Can’t Ignore You

So How’s the Book Doing? (And how many books have you sold? And what was your print run?)

My amiga the crackerjack memoirist and writing teacher Sara Mansfield Taber has posted an oh-so-true toe-curling but chuckle-worthy blog post over at She Writes: “Writing Is a Humiliation Banquet.”

It reminds me of how gallery owners complain that customers (more often lookyloos) don’t know “gallery etiquette.” It’s the same with nonwriters and writers. Nonwriters usually mean well when they ask a writer, “So how’s the book doing?” Though alas, this is often followed by the more knife-like, “How many books have you sold?”

Uyyy doubly rude…

What they don’t realize is that (in most instances) this is akin to asking someone who was just turned down for a long overdue promotion, or maybe even fired, “So how much do you make?” because, as Sara Taber so eloquently points out, the book is almost never doing as well as its author had hoped it would, and for most literary books earnings tend to hover well below the level at which one might cobble together a non-food-stamps-worthy living. Furthermore, publishers report sales with such a long lag, a writer never really knows her overall sales numbers at any given moment.

Herewith some of my favorite replies (and if you’re an author with a book out, may they serve you):

(With a wink): I’m getting away with it… How about you?
(This is thanks to Paul Graybeal of Marfa’s Moonlight Gemstones, by the way.)

(Breathily, Nancy Reaganqesque): Why my dear, that’s like asking a woman her age! How have you been?

(Beaming, ready-to-judo): Oh, great! It’s been such fun! You know, I think everyone should write a book. Do you have a book you’d like to write?

(Shrugging, Jimmy Fallonesque): Well, I haven’t moved full-time onto my yacht– yet. But thanks for asking. How are you?

(Sweetly smiling): Not nearly enough. Would you like to buy one . . . or 6 for your friends?
(Thanks to Julia Bricklin for this one)

(Gleaming stare, revealing teeth): Sooooo verrrrrrrry welllllllll… in fact… my doctor has been able to… reduce my meds… (Continue staring silently for three beats…) Just kidding! How are you?

Notice, the trick is to lob that conversational ball back into their court. Unless you might have something aside from your book to offer them, for instance:

Won-der-fully! Thanks for asking! Oh, and by the way, I’ll be doing an event at the bookstore next Thursday at 6 pm, it would be wonderful if you could come!

Great! Oh, and by the way, if it works for your book group / workshop / class, I’d be delighted to come talk about the book!

The thing is, I don’t think most people asking these rude questions have any idea they’re being rude; I doubt they care all that much about one’s answer; they’re just asking out of innocent curiosity, to show enthusiasm, usually, and as casually as an acquaintance might ask about your kids (whom they don’t know), or your kitchen remodeling project, or even just chat about the weather (get any of that hail?).

Some who ask the rude question really do care, they do mean well– why, they’re delighted to know a real-live published author! For those folks, the “I’m getting away with it,” or “wonderfully, thanks for asking!” works fine.

But then there are those, usually with a toe in the publishing business, or ambitious to write / publish themselves–and usually they are men– who persist with the outrageous, “What was your print run?” (Yes, this has happened to me several times.)

Well, I say, bless ’em. Because they need blessing. I answer, “You know, I have no idea. I am so busy with my next book… ” and when they insist (yikes, some of them do), “What do you mean, you don’t know what was the print run?” I put on the Scarlett O’Hara:

“Why, golly gee, numbers just go in one ear and out the other.”

Or, to be a little more nose-in-the-air-y:

“Nowadays, you know, it’s almost all POD… print-on-demand.”

When a writer has spent several years working on a book she has more emotion invested in it than the casual reader would guess. So if it’s another writer who is asking and your book is doing splendidly, why rub in the salt? (327,583 as of last Tuesday! Take that!) Or, more likely, since your book isn’t selling anything like Dan Brown’s latest, why make your neighbor (oh, say, like the divorce lawyer with the car wash franchise who is going to write a novel “one day”) view you with head-shaking pity?

It’s NOTB, none of their business, they shouldn’t ask such questions, but they do, so… So what?

Dear writerly reader, why not consider “the question” an opportunity to practice your charmfest of impromptu dialogue writing skills?

“why not consider ‘the question’ an opportunity to practice your charmfest of impromptu dialogue writing skills?“

But I don’t find writing a “humiliation banquet,” quite the contrary. I am grateful that I have the skill and (most days) focus to write and that, in one way or another, my work finds readers. I’m always happy to see more royalties but I don’t measure my success as a writer by numbers alone. A single reader who approaches my work in a spirit of respect and intellectual curiosity, and to whom my book makes a meaningful difference, is worth more to me than 10,000 readers who just want a beachside page-turner.

(Bless you all who write beachside page-turners! May you all live happily ever after on your yachts! But I don’t read such books and wouldn’t have the wherewithal to write one, and anyway, even if I had a hundred bagilliwillion bucks, I couldn’t be bothered with a yacht. To start with, I’d have to deal with the yacht dealer, and then I’d have to decide on the floor plan, and then the upholstery, and then engine specifications, and then I’d have to staff it, and then I’d have to insure it… my God, I am falling into a dead snore just thinking about it!)

So how, with book sales presumably well under 327,583 as of last Tuesday, does one make a living as a writer? All I can say is, if you want to make a living writing literary books you’ll need to be (a) wildly lucky (b) incorrigibly persistent (c) exuberantly productive (d) more hard-headed than a rhino in a steel helmet inside a Panzer tank and (e) totally flummoxed by shopping (except for books, of course). And by the way, most literary writers don’t make a living from their books but from teaching, freelancing, editing, and/or other work / income.

The “humiliation banquet” comes with the promotion part… and for that, thank goodness for the vast and ever-growing literature on sports psychology!!

P.S. Check out my Conversations with Other Writers podcast, an interview with Sara Mansfield Taber about Born Under an Assumed Name, her fascinating and beautifully written memoir about growing up with a father who was an undercover CIA agent.

UPDATE: Susan J. Tweit offers this:

“Whenever someone asks me how much money I make from my writing or how many books I’ve sold, I have two responses, one of which I use when I feel like they’re serious and really interested in why anyone would write for a living, and the other of which is designed to flip the question back at them. The first is, ‘My freelance article work, teaching, and speaking make a small but comfortable living. My books are my passion projects, and I write them to change the world, not to earn a living or become famous.’ With this response, I’m inviting the questioner into a conversation about why we do the work we do, and whether our work lives up to the values we profess to hold.

“The second response is for those people who I don’t think are up for a serious conversation: I say, ‘You go first: How much money do you make?’ That usually shuts down the conversation right away. I think people are curious about making art for living, and in my experience from teaching writing workshops for a couple of decades, a lot of men think of writing as a way to earn some income in retirement. Which is so not the point of why I write!”

Q & A with Sara Mansfield Taber,
Author of Chance Particulars: A Writer’s Field Notebook

Literary Travel Writing:
Notes on Process and the Digital Revolution

Translating Across the Border

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Why Aren’t There More Readers? A Note on Curiosity, Creativity, and Courage

I live books. I read books every day. I review books, translate books, edit books, and write books. I have always had a hard time fathoming why other people don’t shimmer with the same enthusiasm. Perhaps they never developed the habit of reading– it does take some effort to learn, after all; perhaps they simply don’t have a clue about what treasures await them, silently gathering dust upon an infinite number of shelves (both real and digital, pay and free, as in archive.org); or, perhaps they find it too frightening to reach beyond the incuriosity of those around them. (What if they were to arouse some bully? “Hey, Egghead!”)

Of course, many citizens have been gypped– there is really no other word– by their public education system. But over the centuries, and particularly the past two, some of the least privileged, by luck and pluck, have become avid readers and writers. (I speak as a descendant of Irish immigrants.) And indifference and even hostility towards reading and books can be found all across the social spectrum. Some of the wealthiest people, graduates of private schools, don’t have anything beyond a coffee table book and maybe a thriller in their mansions– though, true, some hire decorators who order books by the yard. (One dead giveaway: when the maid rearranges the books by size and no one objects.)

In today’s New York Times David Toscana laments the lack of readers in Mexico and the woeful state of public education. Though I celebrate Mexico’s vibrant and long-standing literary tradition, I have to agree with his sad portrait, alas. And it is not just the less fortunate Mexicans who do not read. When I taught the thesis seminar for seniors at a leading private university in Mexico City, I found the general level of reading and writing skills, shall we say… underwhelming. But why light on Mexicans? Plenty of people in other countries, including my own country, the United States, don’t read. A few years ago, I used to do PEN Writers in the Schools visits in some Washington DC public high schools. In one instance, in their assignment about my collection of short stories, seniors were allowed to draw pictures with crayons instead of writing an essay (I am not kidding). Many graduates of even the finest U.S. colleges don’t read much, either, and oftentimes, in terms of any aesthetic or intellectual nutrition, what they read would be about on par with, say, a Big Mac.

A book is not necessarily expensive. There are public libraries, Internet archives, free Kindles… In Mexico City, I’ve seen street vendors by the metro stations offering scads of used books, many for the price of a glass of orange juice. So why do so many people, whether well off or poor, ignore the riches around them? This is actually a very interesting question. We all do it some way, and not just with books. I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But I believe the future belongs to those with curiosity, creativity, and courage– and anyone with those three attributes, and the opportunity to do so, is more likely than not to end up in a library, either bricks-and-mortar or on-line, and with heartfelt zest.

Toscana writes, “Books give people ambitions, expectations, a sense of dignity.”

I know, I know in my bones, this is true.

Meteor, Influences, Ambiance

So How’s the Book Doing? (And how many copies have you sold? And what was your print run?)

Notes on Poultney Bigelow,
Author, World Traveler, and Pioneer Editor of
“Outing: An Illustrated Monthly Magazine of Recreation”

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Writing Loglines and the Concept of “the Eyespan”

For a long time I resisted writing loglines. I was of the school of Flannery O’Connor’s famous saying (as I recall it), “if you want to know what the story is about, read the story.” In other words, I believed in the mysterious resonance of literary profundity– and, oh yeah, I still do– but I have come to appreciate the focusing power, both for the writer herself and for her sales team (agent, editor, marketing staff, booksellers, et al) of packing the whole enchilada into one super-yummy bite– because, otherwise, you and your readers will be left vaguely wondering, um, what might it be? “A good meal?” Well, that could anything from a chunk of cheese to a 5 star foie gras extravanganza.

Specificity entices.

I just wrapped up a few days of giving writing workshops in San Miguel de Allende, and on the last day, I evangelized about loglines which I would have done anyway but it so happened that I had just, the night before, finished reading Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat! a both amusing and practical guide to writing screenplays which, by the way, offers a slew of examples of great loglines. I don’t write screenplays but the basic principles of storytelling are the same, whether for the screen or the stage, the page, or lo! ye olde campfire.

Seriously, if you’re writing any kind of story, read Save the Cat!, have a chuckle or nine, and save yourself a heap of headaches.

Snyder writes, “If you can’t tell me about it in one quick line, well, buddy, I’m on to something else.”

(Does this guy snazz around Malibu in a little red convertible, or what?)

Well, Yours Truly defines the so-called logline as a one to two sentence description of the book that (a) tells the reader what to expect and (b) entices.

Here are some examples from various books that work for me– not all official, by the way, but plucked from longer descriptions on the book’s jacket; others are simply subtitles; others were cooked up not by the author but by the editor and/or marketing staff:

This ultimate insider’s guide reveals the secrets that none dare admit, told by a show biz veteran who’s proven that you can sell your script if you can save the cat.
Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder

From literary journalist Sara Mansfield Taber comes a deep and wondrous memoir of her exotic childhood as the daughter of a covert CIA operative.
Born Under an Assumed Name by Sara Mansfield Taber

How what we hear transforms our brains and our lives, from music to silence and everything in between
Healing at the Speed of Sound by Don Campbell and Alex Doman

An epic novel about a family torn apart in the struggle-to-the-death over the destiny of Mexico
The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire by Yours Truly

Alexander von Humboldt and the Latin American journey that changed the way we see the world
Humboldt’s Cosmos by Gerard Helferich

Not long ago the Big Thicket of East Texas was still one of those places singular in its southernness, like the Mississippi Delta or the Carolina Low Country; now its old-timers and their ways are nearly gone. They will not be forgotten, though, for in My Grandfather’s Finger, Edward Swift recalls a Big Thicket populated by family and friends as gloriously vibrant and enigmatic as the land itself.
My Grandfather’s Finger by Edward Swift

War and Peace broadly focuses on Napoleon’s invasion of Russia in 1812 and follows three of the most well-known characters in literature: Pierre Bezukhov, the illegitimate son of a count who is fighting for his inheritance and yearning for spiritual fulfillment; Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, who leaves his family behind to fight in the war against Napoleon; and Natasha Rostov, the beautiful young daughter of a nobleman who intrigues both men.
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

All of these fall into what I think of an an “eyespan”– an amount of text the reader’s eye can take in in a “gulp.” (I admit, the last example is long– but it is one sentence.)

If you google around, you will find a multitude of webpages with advice, and schoolmarmy formulas, for writing log lines. Such rigidity might be apt for certain industries (TV pilots?) but for books, we have a scootch more wiggle room. But not past the eyespan.

What you might also notice is that in these examples– just pulled from the books I happened to have at hand– the (very few) adjectives and verbs have verve:

ADJECTIVES

ultimate
singular
gloriously
vibrant
enigmatic
deep
wondrous
exotic
covert
illegitimate
beautiful

VERBS

reveals
dare
admit
prove
sell
save
hear
transform
to be (forgotten)
follows
fighting
yearning
leaves
fights (again!)
intrigues

So…. if you’re working on a log line, why not make a list of vervy verbs and such from the books you have at hand? Recycling a few of them (covertly fighting! deeply yearning! wondrously transforming!) can be a felicitous endeavor…

P.S. I offer several detailed reading lists for writers here.

When will I be teaching another workshop? Probably in the summer, details to be announced. Visit my workshop schedule or, for updates, I invite you to sign up for my newsletter here.

Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980): Some Notes

Why I Am a Mega-Fan of the Filofax

10 Tips for Getting the Most Out of Your Writing Workshop

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Language Overlay

One of the simplest and yet most effective techniques of fiction is “langage overlay.” I first learned about this from the Canadian novelist Douglas Glover. In his essay, “The Novel as Poem,” (in Notes Home from a Prodigal Son, Oberon, 1999), Glover talks about how he dramatically improved the original draft of his first novel with this technique:

My first person narrator was a newspaperman, he had printer’s ink in his blood. [I went] through the novel, splicing in words and images, a discourse, in other words, that reflected my hero’s passion for the newspaper world. So, for example, Precious now begins: “Jerry Menenga’s bar hid like an overlooked misprint amid a block of jutting bank towers…” Or, in moments of excitement, the narrator will spout a series of headlines in lieu of thoughts.
–Douglas Glover

The key word here is “passion.” What is in your character’s world that he or she would feel passionate about? There’s not a linear formula to follow; just take a piece of paper and jot down any nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, phrases, concepts– in short, whatever pops into your mind that might do.

For example, if your character is a doctor, perhaps her world might include:

stethoscope, Rx, nurse, pills, scalpel, sterile, billing, paperwork, white coat, bedside manner, cold corridors, patient, tubes, IV, tongue depresser, “Say ‘ahhh!'”

If your character is a chef, perhaps:

skillet, toque, cooking school, spices, basil, aroma, seasoned, blisters on hands, oven mitt, scalloped potatoes, seared, grilled, boiled, steamed, souffle, sweating in a hot kitchen, hsssss of sausage hitting the oil, Salvadorean pot-washers, waiters, paté, fois gras, freshness, crispness, apron

And surely, with a few minutes and pencil you can add another 10 to 100 more items.

But to continue, let’s say your character is a beekeeper:

Bees, hives, smoker, sunshine, blossoms, clover, lavender, moths, gnats, sting, hive tool , veil, gloves, seasons, orchards, Queen, drone, worker, nectar, pollen, propolis, furry, wings, extractor, candles, farmer’s markets, bottles, pans, wax, comb, jars, raspberry, apple, recipes, candy, pesticides, “ouch!” mites, cold, wind, directions, forest, nature

Or a shaman:

drum, flutes, shells, spells, chimes, stones, nature, mmm-bb-mmmm-bb, animals, wolves, robes, chants, tent, walking, dancing, running, wind, rain, sun, moon, stars

A writing conference organizer (this went over with a few chuckles at the San Miguel Writers Conference last year):

Internet, paper, books, authors, per diem, agents, writers, money, volunteers, hotel, telephone, e-mail, facebook, “what’s he published?”

Of course you needn’t incorporate everything on your list anymore than you would eat everything laid out on a smorgasboard. Browse, sniff, nibble, gorge, ignore– as you please.

To give you an example from my own writing: one of the main characters in my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, is Maximilian von Habsburg, the Austrian archduke who became Mexico’s ill-fated second emperor. One of the techniques I used to find my way into his point of view was, precisely, language overlay. Before coming to Mexico, Maximilian had served as an admiral in the Austrian Navy, so no doubt he would have used or oftentimes thought of such words as:

starboard, deck, batten the hatches, gimbles, compass, bridge, wake…

In short, I made a long messy-looking list and kept it pinned to the bulletin board by my desk. I also used a Thesaurus, adding terms I didn’t think of right away: “kedge” was one. So I had a scene where, in land-locked Mexico City of 1866, Maximilian informs his aide that they’re going on a brief vacation to Cuernavaca. “We’ll just kedge over there…” Ha! Kedge! One of those perfectly precise words that makes novelists unhunch from their laptops, raise both fists and shout, YEEEE-AH!!! Which, you can be sure, will startle the dog.

The exercise I always give my writing workshop students:

First make your language list for the doctor. Then, in 5 minutes (about a paragraph), have him take a cooking class.

Douglas Glover’s essay “The Novel As Poem” is such an important one for any creative writer to read, I would recommend buying the collection, Notes Home from a Prodigal Son, for that alone– but the collection does in fact include many other excellent and illuminating essays. Visit Glover’s website here.

Conjecture: The Powerful, Upfront, Fair and Square Technique
to Blend Fiction into Your Nonfiction

Diction Drops and Spikes

Lone Star Nation: How Texas Will Transform America by Richard Parker

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

The Arc of Writerly Action

Last Saturday I gave a talk on writing historical fiction at the annual American Independent Writers Association, held this year at the Writer’s Center in Bethesda, MD, just outside Washington DC. It was great fun– and an honor– to sit on a panel with such fine writers as David Taylor (moderator), Barbara Esstman, author of the novel The Other Anna, and Natalie Wexler, author of A More Obedient Wife. My own point of reference was my novel based on the true story, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, which came out in paperback last spring from Unbridled Books, as well as some of my other books, both fiction and nonfiction.

I began by introducing what I call “the arc of writerly action.” Imagine the following arrayed in a half circle:

1. Writing the beginning of first draft

2. Writing the middle of first draft

3. Writing to the end of the first draft

4. Inviting feedback

5. Revising (looping around 4 and 5 multiple times)

6. Selling (submitting to agents, publishers)

7. Moving through the process of production, including further revisions and copyediting

8. Marketing the book (readings, lectures, book signings, book festivals, book clubs, interviews, blogging, etc.)

9. Interacting with readers

10. Integrating the resulting changes into one’s personal and professional life

At each stage the writer risks bogging down. Some writers, dreaming for years of their novel, never get the traction to even start, while others might race through the first several stages, then, after multiple rejections from agents, stop. Some manage to publish their book but, wincing from a first sharp review, dive deep into hiding.

The two main reasons writers get stuck, it seems to me, are first, they just don’t care that much; and/or second, anxiety about rejection / criticism overwhelms their ability to take action.

So for many writers, the middle of the first draft, just where things start getting tricky, is the most likely place they will falter. Others stop dead at the first critical reactions to their manuscript. “I’m no good,” “I don’t have talent,” “this is a crazy waste of time,” and so on– I’ve heard so many writers muttering this sort of thing to themselves, and so they keep themselves stuck in the muck.

The emotional exhaustion– or shall I say anxiety fest/ despair?– of accumulating agents’ and editors’ rejections is another cause for freeze-up. I would venture that there are more novels abandoned in drawers and boxes than are ever published.

Point 7 in the arc, moving through the production process, is especially challenging for writers aiming to self-publish. There are a thousand and eleven choices (which printer? print on demand? Smashwords, iUniverse, Lulu? Ebook, Kindle, Nook, and/ or PDF? Encypted PDF? What price? What type of cover, how to do the design it? How to distribute? Hire a fulfillment company? Rent space in a warehouse? Taxes? Do I need to file a “doing business as”? What are ISBNs? Should I get a barcode? etc)– and so, a thousand opportunities to procrastinate.

Point 8, the marketing phase, can tangle down even the most intrepid writers. Especially women, so “nice girl” careful to not be “self promoters,” and/ or — both sexes fall prey to this one– assuming the airy attitude, “I am the artist / serious scholar I do not dirty my hands in the commercial world.” As I always say, book promotion is not self-promotion. Book promotion is book promotion, and when you have a real publisher, that publisher has employees and they are making their living, and not a very good one, probably, in working for your book and it is not, in any way, helpful to any of them for you to play tortoise.

Also, even though they work for your book, no one knows nor cares about your book as much you do, so it behooves you to get out there and do something for it. (Or, pray tell, why did you bother to write it?) Open a donut shop and see if you can sell even one of the hot-out-of-the-oven chocolatissimo yummies, by stashing your sign in the back of the mop closet.

Point 9, interacting with readers: here I am learning. I try to keep up with e-mail but I admit, I have fallen behind. I’m working on it…

Finally, point 10, integrating the changes resulting from publishing the book into one’s personal and professional life: for some, this is a minor thing. But for others, it’s more daunting than the Matterhorn. I think it’s like anything else– graduating from college, getting married, buying a house, getting a job, having a baby, taking a trip, and so on… whether in a small way or a large way, publishing your book will change you. It will change how you see yourself, how others see you, and your responsibilities and opportunities. And this can take a little or a lot of adjustment. Should that come as any surprise? Alas, for some writers, it does. But that’s life, yes? All about learning.

Of course, we all talked about research. I’ll leave that subject for another blog post.

Here’s the handout I provided at the event:

WRITING HISTORICAL FICTION
C.M. MAYO
www.cmmayo.com
Panel on Writing Historical Fiction
American Independent Writers Association Conference
The Writer’s Center, Bethesda, MD, June 11, 2011

A 3 Pronged Process
(kind of sort of… prongs are webbed…)

1. Mastering the Techniques of Fiction

Boorstin, Jon, Making Movies Work:Thinking Like a Filmmaker
Gardner, John The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers
McKee, Robert, Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting
Prose, Francine, Reading Like a Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them
Scarry, Elaine, Dreaming by the Book
Wood, James, How Fiction Works

2. Mastering the Management of Your Time and Creative Energies

Baum, Kenneth, The Mental Edge: Maximize Your Sports Potential with the Mind-Body Connection
Cameron, Julia, The Artist’s Way
Flack, Audrey, Art & Soul: Notes on Creating
Lamott, Anne, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
Leonard, George, Mastery: The Keys to Success and Long-Term Fulfillment
Maisel, Eric, PhD., Fearless Creating: A Step-by-Step Guide to Starting and Completing Your Work of Art
Pressfield, Steven, The War of Art: Winning the Creative Battle
See, Carolyn, Making a Literary Life

3. Seeing, Knowing, and Telling the Truth

Butler, Robert Olen, From Where You Dream: The Process of Writing Fiction
Ricco, Gabriele Lusser, Writing the Natural Way: Using Right-Brain Techniques to Release Your Expressive Powers
Smith, Pamela Jaye, Inner Drives: How to Write & Create Characters Using the Eight Classic Centers of Motivation
Simon, Mark, Expressions: A Visual Reference for Artists

What Is Writing (Really)? Plus A New Video of Yours Truly Talking
About Four Exceedingly Rare Books Essential for Scholars of
the Mexican Revolution

From the Writer’s Carousel: Literary Travel Writing

Q & A with Timothy Heyman on the Incomparable Legacy of
German-Mexican Novelist B. Traven

On Decluttering Your Writing or, Respecting the Integrity of Narrative Design: The Interior Decoration Analogy

Ideally a novel provides the experience of a vivid dream, so when I teach my writing workshops, I always begin with specificity: generating specific detail that is vivid, that is, it appeals to the senses: sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell.

Inevitably, a hand goes up.

But isn’t this creating clutter? How do you know when the detail is too much?

Anyone who has taken a writing workshop or three will have heard: cut the adjectives, cut the adverbs, if you need an adverb you probably have the wrong verb, etc. All of this is right and good, however, in my experience, most writing– and I include first drafts by accomplished writers– is scant on vivid detail that appeals to the senses. Not vivid? No reader.

So, how to distinguish needed detail from clutter?

I like to use the analogy of interior decorating. Let’s assume the purpose of the living room is to host a tea party. So you decorate it in order to make your guest feel welcome, to make her feel both charmed and comfortable to come in, sit down on the sofa, and enjoy a cup (or three) of tea. That will be challenging if the entrance is blocked by five beat-up sofas and, say, a washing machine. It will also be, shall we say, rather uninviting if you’ve left last night’s pizza cartons on the coffee table.

A book invites a reader in– so, don’t ask, am I expressing myself?; ask, will my reader feel welcome? Will she feel confident that I am in control of the narrative (in other words, that I know what I’m doing?) If not, she’ll put the book down– in the same way that she would not want to sit down and drink tea in a peculiar and cluttered house.

More questions from the workshop:

When can I use adjectives? Can I use adverbs? Can I this, that, or the other thing?

There are no rules in art, but I think we find our path toward writing a good book when we understand and respect the intregity of our design.

The interior decorating analogy again: Some living rooms might be beautifully designed and yet feature a lot of detail. For example, a Victorian-style living room might have lace curtains, a knicknack cabinet with dolls and teacups and porcelain pugs; cabbage-rose upholstery; numerous chairs (a straight-back and a rocking chair, ottomans, etc); three potted palms, a fern on a stand; portraits of some twenty-seven ancestors and horses and dogs; and outside the windows, a glimpse of gingerbread trim. Despite all that detail, it could nonetheless be considered uncluttered— a guest could walk in, sit comfortably, and enjoy her tea in what is a very properly fussy Victorian room.

At the other extreme, we might have a beautifully designed yet minimalist penthouse: black leather and chrome furniture; everything white; one giant painting of a red slash. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window: nothing but sky. Certainly, a Victorian rocking chair would look like out of place, as would the washing machine and those pizza cartons.

Similarly, in the Victorian room, that chrome-and-leather ottoman would look more than rather peculiar, no?

Does your reader feel welcome? Does your reader perceive that you are in control as a designer / host / artist? One of the best ways to get a feeling for that is to go back and read a novel you have already read and absolutely loved, from beginning to end, for that is, by definition, a successful novel. Do not read as a consumer, for entertainment; read as a writer– examining how your fellow writer (be he or she Austen, Tolstoy, O’Connor, Kingsolver) put in or left out specific detail. Where are the smells, sounds, tastes, textures? Underline them.

Had there been signficant clutter, you would have put the book down when you read it the first time.

The books you have already read and loved are your best teachers– there they are, waiting for you on your own bookshelf. But you have to read them as a fellow craftsperson, not passively, as a “consumer”: nor, for that matter, as a student of English literature. The latter is akin to a student who writes about the history or perhaps sociology of interior decoration. It is not the same as being an interior decorator– the one who chooses the sofa, hauls it in, and determines where to place it. And if you’re wrong about the sofa, no need to return it. Take out your mental zap gun and zap it into the infinite warehouse of your mind.

Meteor, Influences, Ambiance

Blast Past Easy: A Permutation Exercise with Clichés

Q & A with Poet Barbara Crooker

Find out more about C.M. Mayo’s books, shorter works, podcasts, and more at www.cmmayo.com.

One Dozen Dialogue Exercises

One of the most powerfully vivid ways to show character, relationship, conflict and/or mood is through the use of dialogue. Herewith, one dozen five minute exercises. Use an egg-timer if you must.

#1. Sprinkle in ze French
An American who was resident in Paris for many years gives a tour of the local art museum to some friends who are mighty impressed (but do they admit it?). Write the scene with dialogue.

#2. Echoing in Dialogue
From Henry James’s novel The Portrait of a Lady, here’s an example of “echoing” in dialogue:

“She has offered to take her— she’s dying to have Isabel go. But what I want her to do when she gets her there is give her all the advantages. I’m sure all we’ve got to do,” said Mrs. Ludlow, “is to give her a chance.”
“A chance for what?”
“A chance to develop.”
“Oh Moses!” Edmund Ludlow exclaimed. “I hope she isn’t going to develop any more!”

In this example, echoing works well to show the two characters’s easy going affection for one another. So, try writing a similar scene with echoing in the dialogue. If you need a prompt: a boss and his/ her ingratiating subordinate planning the new furniture arrangements for the office.

#3. Larry & Saul Bake a Cake
Larry and Saul are elderly brothers. Larry is jealous of Saul. Saul thinks Larry is full of himself. They are in Larry’s kitchen making a cake. Write the scene with dialogue.

#4. The Control Freak, the Liar & the Narcissist
Three characters, all members of the same family, sit down to dinner. Show by the things they say to one another that one is a control freak, one a liar, and one a narcissist.

#5. Good Cat, Bad Cat
In a pet store: he wants a cat; she does not. Write 5 lines he could say; then, write 5 lines she could say. Briefly describe the cat in question. If you have time, write the scene.

#6. So Terrible. So Awful.
I was in the women’s locker room in a health club when I happened to overhear this scrap of dialogue:

A: “Therapists, what they charge—”
B: “Horrible, that’s why I quit.”
A: “So terrible.”
B: “So awful.”

I love the shape of this, the way the women echo the sounds and rhythms of each other’s words. Notice the rhyme of “horrible” and then “terrible”; the repetition of “So” (“So terrible; “So awful.”)

Another interesting aspect is B’s interruption of A.

Here’s the exercise: take this dialogue; add some names, descriptions, gestures, etc., and flesh out the scene. You might change “therapists” to “dentists” or, say, “contractors” or “piano teachers”—what have you.

#7. Three Jackets, Three Men & a Joke
Describe three jackets. Describe the three men who are wearing them. One man tells a joke. How do the other two react?

#8. When in Rome
Do as the Romans do: speak Italian. Have your characters, who are arguing about something (whatever you like) use some or all of the following words and phrases:

Dove? (Where?) Buona notte (Good night) Ha un gelato? (Have you any ice-cream?) una crema de barba (shaving cream) E compreso il servizio? (Is service included?) E sulla strada sbagliata (You’re on the wrong road)

#9. Class Envy
Your character hates rich people. Give him 3-4 lines of really nasty dialogue. Then, in two sentences or less, identify the specific source of his feelings.

#10. ##&%#@*!!!
One of the fun things about writing fiction is that you can assume the voice of characters who would do and say all sorts of naughty, slobby things. Here’s the exercise: two characters (give them names and a little description) are sitting on a back porch drinking beer. They are arguing over which is the better sports team, and a good portion of their vocabulary consists of swear words. Write the scene with dialogue.

#11. Wedding Dress Dialogue
Mother and daughter are in a changing room, before a floor-length mirror, arguing over one more wedding dress. The mother is thrilled about this wedding; the daughter is tempted to call the wedding off— but show don’t tell. That is, do not have the characters state their feelings, but show them through tone, gesture and indirect comments. Write the scene with dialogue.

#12. Sorry
Cindy, a highly educated, experienced, and competent professional, peppers her conversations with, “I’m sorry” (and then she wonders why she’s not been promoted). Sketch a few scenes for Cindy with dialogue.

Using Rhythm and Sound to
Add Energy and Meaning to Your Prose

Consider the Typewriter
(Am I Kidding? No, I Am Not Kidding)

On the Trail of the Rock Art of the Lower Pecos

My new book is Meteor

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Techniques of Fiction: The Number One Technique in the Supersonic Overview

I have been giving this “Techniques of Fiction” workshop for a few years now at the Writer’s Center, Dancing Chiva, the San Miguel Workshops and San Miguel Writers Conference, and again at the Writer’s Center (near Washington DC).

There are two versions: the Supersonic Overview, a three hour workshop (or a little longer, as for Dancing Chiva) and the Ridiculously Supersonic Overview (as for the writers conferences), which conclude in under an hour.

You can get a PhD in creative writing (some people actually do, shake my head at that as I may), and though I believe learning to write is a never-ending, ever-deepening process, I also believe that because of the way the human brain is wired, the same few but very powerful techniques have provided, provide, and– barring bizarre genetic mutations– will continue to provide the most effective instructions to the reader to form, in John Gardner’s words, “a vivid dream” in her mind.

That’s what a novel is: instructions for a vivid dream. Sometimes I get all Californian and call it a “mandala of consciousness.” But whatever you call it, a novel is about providing the experience of someone else’s experience: Anna Karenina’s, Madame Bovary’s, Scarlet O’Hara’s, Harry Potter’s, [insert name of your main character here].

How do we, whether as readers, or as any human being (say, folding laundry, or maybe digging for worms with a stick) experience anything? Well, last I checked we are not free-floating blobs of consciousness (except maybe when we have out-of-body experiences and/ or when dead); we are in bodies. We experience what we experience through our bodily senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch— and I would add a “gut” or intuitive sense as well. So any fiction that is going to be readable – a successfully vivid dream– needs to address the senses.

We experience what we experience through our bodily senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch

The reader responds to specific sensory detail such as:

the color of the sweater;

the whisper of the wind in the ficus;

the droplet of honey on her tongue;

the mustiness of the refrigerator that had been left unplugged in the basement;

the cottony bulk of an armload of unfolded towels;

the sudden twinge of tightness in his throat just before he picked up the telephone.

There are an infinite number of techniques, but this– giving the reader specific sensory detail – is paramount.

Compare:

He was sad.
vs
He sank his chin in his hand. With his other, he fumbled across the table for a Kleenex.

Poor people lived here.
vs
The hallway smelled of boiled cabbage and a bathroom that needed scubbing.

Rich people lived here.
vs
Everything gleamed and behind her, a pair of white gloves pulled the door shut with a gentle click.

She disliked him.
vs
The sight of him made her grit her teeth.

She ate too much.
vs
From the tine of her fork, she licked up the last crumb of that crumbcake.

The neighbors were obnoxious.
vs
Though the Hip-Hop came from three houses down the block, she could feel it in her breakfast table when she put her hand on it.

Here’s my favorite quote about detail, from a letter by Anton Chekhov:

“In descriptions of nature one should seize upon minutiae, grouping them so that when, having read the passage, you close your eyes, a picture is formed. For example, you will evoke a moonlit night by writing that on the mill dam the glass fragments of a broken bottle flashed like a bright little star, and that the black shadow of a dog or a wolf rolled along like a ball. . .”

More anon.

P.S. For some fun exercises to generate specific detail for fiction, check out “Giant Golden Buddha” and 364 More 5 Minute Writing Exercises.

And: many more resources for writers here.

Ten Tips for Getting the Most Out of Your Writing Workshop

Consider the Typewriting (Am I Kidding? No, I Am Not Kidding)

Synge’s Aran Islands and Kapuscinski’s Travels with Herodotus

Find out more about C.M. Mayo’s books, shorter works, podcasts, and more at www.cmmayo.com.