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On what would have been DeForest Kelley’s 90th birthday — January 20, 2010 — I’ll be a guest of Amie Flanagan on KSU Radio  (www.ksuradio.com) in Georgia. Let all your De/STAR TREK friends know. (De launched my writing career; you’ll probably hear the story during the interview.)

The radio podcast will be live from 7 a.m. to 8 a.m. Pacific Time (10-11:00 A.M. east coast time). It’ll be available afterward, too, since it’s a podcast.

Amie wrote me about three years ago to thank me for writing the first book about De (HARVEST). She lives very near where he grew up. When he passed away on June 11, 1999, she said she felt very lost until she came across my book and was finally able to “meet” the man she had so admired. She wrote me a beautiful letter about what De and my book meant to her.

Now Amie is a communications major and a radio personality. Her program,  “Story with Amie,” issues from the radio station at her alma mater, Kennesaw State University. She has interviewed a lot of intriguing folks; you can read all about them at the KSU website. She also has a “Story with Amie” Facebook page, if you want to look that up and join in. (Let her know you’re a De fan!) 

I’ll be reading an excerpt or two from my first book. If you have any questions about De, writing, animals, or my books that you want her to ask me, let her or me know. There’s no call-in number and no chat room, so you need to ask us soon in order to have your question answered or your comment heard during the program.

I think that’s everything you need to know about the upcoming program. If not, shoot me a “comment” and let me know what I left out.  Thanks!

UPDATE: You can hear the interview here: http://ksuradio.com/2010/01/21/my-interview-with-kristine-m-smith-12010/

I know a few (very few) writers who say they don’t read much.

Hello!?

As you read compelling literature, you can learn to discern what it is about a piece that keeps you enthralled. I cannot figure out how anyone can become an exemplary writer without being a voracious reader (or listener on audio books or via stage and screen). I mean, that’s like presuming you can become a professional brain surgeon by opening up the first cranium you see and digging inside.

OK, so writing isn’t brain surgery. It won’t kill anyone if you do it poorly (unless, of course, you write a very poorly researched, so-called non-fiction piece and recommend cyanide and arsenic when you meant to recommend cinnamon and allspice).  But it is a science of sorts, as well as an art.

So if you want to write songs, study dozens of song sheets; if you want to write poems, read lots of poetry; if you want to write great literature, read great literature.  When you do, something happens. You begin to absorb cadences, rhythms, unspoken rules and insights that teachers may not know to tell you about — but recognize.

Case in point:

When I was in junior high (1964-65) I had an English teacher who told me that I was an excellent writer. Her name  was Alpha Rossetti. When she told me this, I was thrilled to my toes, because I was already a wannabe — I wanted to be an author.

When she said what she said, I immediately fired back, eyes dancing and heart fluttering, ”Teach me to be better!”

Her face fell just a little before she sighed and said, “I can’t.  I’m not a writer. But you are.”

Silly me! I figured that anyone who could recognize good writing could also teach it!  I felt bad that I had made her feel bad.

Not long after, she asked me to stay after class.

I did.

After everyone left, she pulled out a magazine and handed it to me. THE WRITER.  I had never heard of it in my little backwoods town (Cle Elum, Washington). My eyes lit up.  A grin split my face.

Then she pointed to the lower left hand corner. The address label read KRISTINE SMITH, STAR ROUTE 4 BOX 60, CLE ELUM WA. I looked up, confused…

She said, “I’ve subscribed to THE WRITER for you for two years. I wanted to do a little something to encourage and help you, and this is what I came up with.”

Tears flooded my eyes.  We were a poor farming family and $6 or $8 a year for a magazine only I would read was out of the question given the family’s meager budget. She knew that. And I have never forgotten it:  she was stepping out to champion my cause.

I read every issue, cover to cover, at least twice and referred to the articles afterward for years.

Hey, the magazine still exists, but of course costs more these days — and is worth every penny to you if you want to learn the ropes and write better.

Mrs. Rossetti began to save my “masterpieces” and read them to her classes for years. After she retired, she gave me the little bundle and her own copy of the revised PLAIN ENGLISH HANDBOOK by Walsh. Her signature is neatly inscribed on its front cover. I cherish it to this day.

Other people “in the know” took up my cause as the years passed. Ted Crail, author of The Pulitzer Prize-nominated APETALK AND WHALESPEAK (he was Creative Services Director at the Animal Protection Institute where I worked from 1981-1985) called me a “helluva writer” and actor DeForest Kelley began as early as my senior year in high school to give me a boost by submitting something I had sent to him (about meeting him that year) to TV STAR PARADE magazine in New York, which used the piece in their special holiday edition.

I don’t know if you have or had boosters and/or mentors. I had too few, but the few I had were instrumental in keeping me lifted up emotionally while I learned my craft.  If you don’t have one or more, be one to yourself. Half of the people who know you will think you’re tilting at windmills. Just smile, keep singing THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM, and keep going.  Success is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration (or determination),  a wise man once said. (Thomas Edison?).

Read the best. Let it wash over you and invade your DNA. At some point you’ll soak up enough to surprise yourself from time to time.  You’ll let your Child write something, come back later with your Critic, and discover that there’s nothing that needs to be added in or taken out.  You’ll amaze yourself. “Did I write that?”

Indeed, you did.  You and a few dozen of your favorite internalized wordsmiths…

Get ‘er done!

Writing comes with a set of rules. Some of the best references for good writing include:

THE ELEMENTS OF STYLE by Strunk and White (a classic)

THE FIRST FIVE PAGES: A Writer’s Guide to Staying Out of the Rejection Pile by Noah Lukeman

NET WORDS Creating High-Impact Online Copy by Nick Usborne

EMOTIONAL STRUCTURE Creating the Story Beneath the Plot (guide for screenwriters) by Peter Dunne

EDITORS ON EDITING What Writers Need to Know About What Editors Do,  Editor: Gerald Gross

Anything by Dan Kennedy, Joe Vitale, Joe Sugarman, David Ogilvie or Robert Bly if you want to get into copywriting

When you know the rules and what people expect to see in a sentence, it’s time to strategically bend or break some of the rules along the way. Doing so startles, stimulates and convinces the reader when it’s done right.

Copywriters do it all the time. And they do it about as strategically as anyone can. Because they know what breaking the rules does. I just did it three times in this paragraph. Do you know where? More importantly, do you know why?

Teachers will instruct you never to end a sentence with a preposition (“about,” “above,” “across,” “after,” “against,” “along,” “among,” “around,” “at,” “before,” “behind,” “below,” “beneath,” “beside,” “between,” “with,” etc.) and never to start a sentence with ”and,” ”but” or “because.” That’s perfectly good advice in most cases.  But people don’t always talk in complete sentences and many aren’t particularly choosy about the words they end their sentences with.

I ended that last sentence with “with.” (Oops, I just did it again, but this time “properly.”) The reason I broke the rule is because most people don’t say, “But people don’t always talk in complete sentences and some aren’t particularly choosy about the words with which they end their sentences.”

Another example: Most people know that when they place themselves and another person — or a series of persons — into the same sentence, they should list the others before mentioning themselves (out of courtesy and as a sign of respect). Examples: “Jane and I ran to the beach.” “Joe, Jim, Larry and I had a great time at the movies.”  But it has become common (much as I hate to see it happening, and I correct my grand nieces ad nauseum whenever they do this) for people to say, “Me and Mike are going for a ride.” So there will be times when your fictional or real-life folks will break this rule because NOT breaking it would make the scene appear inauthentic and throw the reader into a state of disbelief.

Song writers are famous for swapping names…

“Good enough for me and my Bobbie McGee”

“Me and Mrs. Jones”

…as are regular folks, rural folks, folks from the ‘hood…

“Me and God”

“Me and my gang.”

I wish it weren’t so, but it is what it is. Sometimes, to make a scene authentic, you have to break the rules to make the reader believe that the tale you’re telling or the report you’re giving is legitimate.

Mark Twain was a master storyteller. He wrote in the slang of the common folks he met along the Mississippi River as a youngster, as a riverboat pilot later on in life, and as a silver miner in the Old West. When you read his books, you know he was there: he uses the vernacular of racist southerners and hard-drinking miners. His yarns ring true, even though (according to Tom Sawyer) “there was some things he stretched, but mos’ly he tol’ the truth…” 

Knowing the rules is vital, but becoming  a slave to them will hobble you and make you appear removed and more Mr. Spock-like than most of your readers want you to be.

There aren’t a lot of Vulcans out there. There are only slightly more schoolmarms and literary taskmasters. So know the rules, but don’t be afraid to break them if breaking them will get you to your goal: to captivate, convince and carry your reader deeper into your web of intrigue.

You’d be amazed by the number of things you know. Meredith Willson wrote about traveling salesmen because that’s what he knew. The result: THE MUSIC MAN. If you haven’t seen the original version, rent it and find out what you need to know about traveling salesmen. Think you’ll be bored? Think again!

Writing about what you know and love is the quickest way to get your internal Critic to take a hike.  When you’re head over heels in love, you don’t hear anyone else — you just hear the call of your beloved.

If you love animals, write about animals. If gardening, write about gardening. If scrapbooking, scrapbooking. Get the picture?

What this does is, it trains your mind to focus and to love stringing words together. You have so much to say about the things you love. Let ‘er rip.

When wannabe writers tell me they don’t know what to write about, I have a response that gets them every time: “You’re going to die tomorrow. What have you left unsaid that you need to say before you go?  Who needs to hear it? Write it all down. Hurry! There isn’t much time!”

And when people tell me they have writer’s block, I look at them like they have two heads. I’ve never experienced writer’s block unless you call an uninvited visit from my Critic or from a brief lack of self-esteem writer’s block.  I’ve experienced writer’s fatigue from writing for too blasted long at one sitting. When I do, I go for a walk or take a nap. 

Writing is probably something like an illegal high to me, although I wouldn’t know that for sure. It’s so compelling that the thought of NOT writing depresses me.

I have a lot of stuff to say still and not all that many years left to say it, so I’m gung-ho.  If you’re alive in fact and not just in theory, you know what I’m saying.

Writer’s block, being “too busy to write” and “nothing to write about” are excuses. Writers write. For us, it’s kinda like breathing. “I breathe, I think, I write, therefore I am.”

You’re a writer! Get ‘er done!

Perhaps this should have been Lesson One.  Slap me silly when you see me next, if so. I can take it.

Before you commit a single word to  a page, exile your internal Critic. If you don’t, you’ll get waylaid before you finish your first paragraph.

It was The Critic who lived inside me that caused me to white-knuckle every sentence I wrote early on in my writing endeavors.

Send your critic to Timbuktu while you’re writing. If you’re in Timbuktu, send it to Seattle or Mars or the moon or Alpha Centauri. The farther you send the meddler, the better it will be.

Then let your Child out to play.

Your internal Child is the one with the enthusiasm, the energy and the triumphant spirit. Watch as children play. They get so into what they’re doing that the entire world of adults and interruptions fades utterly away. They hear nothing but what they want to hear; do nothing they don’t want to do. They’re fearless.

Be fearless as you write your first draft.

There is absolutely nothing to worry about. No one is going to see it but you. When you turn your playing child loose on an idea, you’ll go places your adult mind may try to critique.  Tell your Adult Critic to am-scray,  mean it, and be sure it happens!

As people who love to write, perhaps you don’t realize it, but words are your play toys. You’re mixing and matching, selecting and discarding; you’re building something that has never been built in quite the same way before. What you’re doing should feel fabulous, not like breaking boulders in a prison quarry.

Let your passion for the subject propel the action.

Don’t write anything that doesn’t compel you. (Yeah, I know, sometimes we get assigned to write on subjects that don’t compel us. When that happens, choose to have fun anyway!  You’re learning an amazing skill — how to conjure up enthusiasm for topics you initially thought B-O-R-I-N-G or tedious, and passing your enthusiasm on to your readers.  You won’t always be writing them, but any writing is good practice.)

Write fast and furious if the story you’re telling is fast-paced… write slow and mindfully if the subject is poignant or contemplative. 

By “matching” your mood and the speed of your pen (or keyboard) to the topic at hand, you prepare your brain to access the words you’ll be needing to make the story unfold at the proper rate of speed in readers’ minds.

The average sentence length should be short if the  story is anxious, frightening or fast-paced, longer if the mood is mellow and methodical.

 When your Child revels in what you’ve completed, set it aside for a day or more, then invite your Critic to return home and help you massage it into its final shape.

Write active words as often as possible.

Why?

To engage and involve your reader.

Look at the difference:

“They walked through the park holding hands.”

“As they neared the park, he took her hand.”

Which sentence makes you more eager to read on?

Use present tense whenever possible.

Why?

Because if you help your readers believe that something is happening right now, there is no way they will be able to feel as certain that they already know the outcome, because it hasn’t happened yet!

Take a look:

“He took her hand.” Past tense tells the reader that some outcome (not yet reported) is already written in cement.

“He takes her hand.” Present tense tells the reader the situation is fluid and that anything can happen. Tension and anticipation build.

Make sense?

Even if you’re writing a story that happened in the 90′s or the 40′s, you can write a prologue of sorts and then (like in the movies) use a “flashback” and segue to present tense and tell the story as though it’s happening now.  By doing this, you encourage the reader to invest more of their hopes and expectations into the story.

On average, keep your sentences short. Doing this is less strain on the reader.

But!!! 

Don’t interpret this to mean that every sentence has to be short.

Can you already tell why?

Thought so.

A series of short sentences sounds robotic and unnatural.

So just remember this: your readers absorb words and thoughts in little mental “bites” — the easier the words in each bite, the more you can throw at them in a single sentence.

Your sentences should be of various lengths. One good way to proofread what you write is to read it aloud. If you can’t read a sentence through without taking a big breath beforehand, it’s seriously too long!

If your sentence is too long, see where it can be divided up; often you’ll find  “and,” “or,” or another connecting word that shows you where a period or a semi-colon might fit. (Use a semi-colon between two clauses of a compound sentence. Both clauses should be complete sentences all by themselves. Examples: “The rain came in torrents; we didn’t know what to do.” The first sentence of this paragraph also  contains a properly used semi-colon.)

And in the spirit of “Keep it short, sweetie,” I’ll keep this lesson short. Because you get the idea, so why beat you over the head with it?

Of course, knowing the rule and putting it into regular practice are two different things. Why not take out whatever you’re working on right now and see if you can apply this lesson (and Lesson #1) to any of it?

To be a writer, you gotta write… not just read about it.

Your turn!

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