And my point is...

All beginning writers make mistakes.  Let me rephrase that...all beginning writers named Lauren Bjorkman make mistakes.  All other writers are perfect. (If you're one of those perfect writers, you can stop reading right now.)

I mean it. Stop.

So one of my blog goals (besides making fun of myself) is to help writers avoid the pitfalls I fell headlong into AND to announce the things I did right.

WHAT I DID RIGHT (blare of trumpet)...

I joined the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI). Then I found a critique group through the Honolulu chapter. I went to SCBWI conferences and workshops.

But...(there is still a little mistaKe in there)... I waited until my novel was almost finished before finding a group.

The advice moment is upon us. Duck! 

If you haven't already, join a writing group immediately.  If the first one doesn't work out, drop out and join another, and if that doesn't work out, then drop out and join another. And if THAT doesn't work out...it could be that YOU are the problem (just kidding) (maybe).

And my point is...writing groups don't always work out. But when they do, they can propel your writing to new heights, so don't give up.

the second mistaKe

The last post was WAY too long! I've read that blog entries should be 200 words max. Whew! I made a mistaKe, learned from it, and now I'm moving on  ... to make new and improved mistaKes.

So instead of babbling on about myself today (though I do that nicely, n'est pas?), I'm going to ask my readers (or is that reader) a question.  Why do YOU write?

Please, please, please leave a comment.

Did that sound desperate?  Oh no...maybe I've just made ANOTHER mistake...

The first mistaKe

Before the mistaKe part, I did a few things right.  When Drake learned to walk, I started dropping him off with a friend for a few hours so I could write at a cafe--coffee being the key to brain function.  I picked a place for its saggy couch near an electrical outlet.  The semi-hip people hanging around allowed me to pretend I was an artist instead of an exhausted mom with an empty hard drive.

Judy Blume saved my life in middle school (OK, that sounds dramatic, but there were weeks when she was my best and only friend). I longed to be the next Judy. Inspired by a particular event, I began writing a novel (sans outline and mfa, btw).

The 8th grade incident that sparked my novel:

Most adults agree--middle school is THE most intense, tumultuous, and painful time of growing up (so promise not to judge me.) 

I went to middle school in Palo Alto, CA after being home-schooled for two years. Most days I ate lunch with a noisy mob called The Group. But The Group dissolved, and because my best friend moved, I was alone. I approached two "nice" girls to ask if I could join them for lunch. The look they exchanged before rejecting me still haunts me today.

Eventually I found new friends. One fateful day, a girl who got on my nerves asked if she could eat with us. My friends and I conferred (how cruel is that?) and afterward I told her NO. When she started crying, a strange kind of joy washed over me (remember, you promised not to judge). The elation was soon replaced by guilt and a black ooze feeling not unlike road tar.

Now for the mistaKe:

I was ready to start my novel. I had an idea, a laptop, and a place to work.  BUT when I went to read other books, a bookstore buyer steered me to CLASSIC YA novels. And the Honolulu librarian suggested a book about a girl raised by dolphins and a sci-fi thriller. I should've read recently published, angsty, funny novels about cliques instead. If I had, I wouldn't have made mistaKes like no cell-phones and school dances where girls wore dresses. I would've learned that I was covering old territory.

The ADVICE moment has arrived!

Read as many books in your genre as you can, and a stack from outside of your genre, too. Check out my links to sites about books.

Just Do It...

I spent a good deal of my childhood in and around harbors because of the Gaucho, an old wooden sailboat that my parents bought. I shared the tiny foc'sle with my older sister, Jody, and the sail bags. We had no electricity (which translates into no TV!) and little room for toys.

Instead we cut up our clothes to sew extensive wardrobes for our stuffed animals. We built forts and once dissected a dead rat (Jody kept a tooth and I kept the tail). I read everything from Harriet the Spy to The Island of the Blue Dolphin. But most of the time we played with our imaginations--invented games like Lava Monster or Alfred and Squeezer, the story of a dog, his anteater brother, and their evil stepmother.

In college I chose to pursue science over humanities because of my fear that 90 percent of English majors bag groceries for a living. After college I worked for the USDA, writing documents instead of novels.

When my son, Drake, was born, everything changed. I was supposed to go back to work, but he refused to cooperate with my plans. He absolutely, positively would not drink from a bottle. If Drake had been more congenial, my life would have gone on as before. Minus sleep, naturally. But my husband encouraged me to quit my job and write from home. My lack of qualifications did not concern him.

So I just did it!

In the Beginning....

So I wrote a teen novel called My Invented Life (for more on that, see sidebar), and it's going to be published by Henry Holt in 2009. Break out the bubbly! Start a blog!

 

But wait. Don't I need content? A catchy premise?

Idea #1

Why it took me only a single decade to go from beginning writer to published novelist--writing tips on speed and efficiency.

 

Idea #1 Rejected

Idea #2

Why I write--a guide to my personal brand of crazy.

I write...

...to deal with basic overcrowding in my brain.

...so I can talk to myself without looking like a nut.

...to answer deep existential question. What is the meaning of life? Is what I'm writing total crap? What happens if the Oreos run out before I finish the chapter?

I write because I like it.

Idea #2 Rejected

 

Idea #3

The hilarious journey of a person (me) from the time she (me) decides to be a writer to when she (me, again) becomes a published author--sort of like the Odyssey with jokes.

And (drum roll please) Idea#3 wins!