Visual words - like, y' know?

I love this clip on so many different levels it almost leaves me speechless. (Almost.)

Typography from Ronnie Bruce on Vimeo.

Mimicking art

While teaching at the Inspire conference, I had some free time to take an illustration workshop with Jeannie St. John Taylor. Her road to publication and illustration is an interesting one and someday I hope to have her visit the blog. But what is always fun is to see how other artists work - their tips, their tricks, their methods and their madness.

Jeannie walked us through her "formula" for Eric, the star of several of her picture books ( like Am I Praying?) She uses a mix of mediums and methods but at the end of it all, we each had a version of Eric. It was fascinating to see how we all interpreted her instructions. Our Eric's were unique. Some comical, some delightful, some very close to her version, some a little ... challenged. It was a great exercise in learning how to structure a character and how to make an idea your own. She pointed out how she addresses some of the realities of illustrating picture books. And her formula definitely is something to keep in mind when developing a character of our own.

Here's my Eric. I didn't get to the final step which would have added some shading and contour but I know how she does it now. (It was also a lesson in color reproduction as he really isn't this yellow in real life.)
Is there an illustrator you'd like to learn from?

Testing your opening

I found an interesting way to test an opening sentence. It easily answers those pressing questions: Does it grab you right off the bat? Do you plunge into the action? Are you drawn in from those first few words?

How does it work?

Simple. Go to a customer service page on any website that has a feedback form. Type your opening paragraph and then hit submit.

Now, if it's like the one I used today, it will send a confirmation email with only the first sentence of your question displayed. You will see it like a reader will see it - out of context, directed to you and vying for your attention. Trust me - you'll see that opening sentence in a whole new light.

Mine could have used a little work.

(Really, you shouldn't bother random customer service centers with your WIP. Although I suppose if they emailed back asking for more, you'd really know you had a winner.)

Training to amble

I ran across an interesting word the other day:

trammel

(TRAM-uhl)

MEANING:

noun:
1. Something that limits or hinders.
2. A fishing net having three layers.
3. An instrument for drawing ellipses.
4. A shackle used in training a horse to amble.
5. An instrument for gauging and aligning parts of a machine.
6. A hook for hanging a pot or a kettle over a fire.

verb tr.: To restrain; to hinder.

Now apart from being a very versatile word with a variety of divergent meanings, the fourth definition caught my eye.

I had no idea horses had to be trained to amble. I thought ambling was one of those things that went automatically with unbroken stretches of desert, western sunsets, dusty trails and worn leather saddles. Maybe I've been confusing the cowboy with the horse.

Which poses a problem. As the pace of summer slows things down just a little, I've been okay with ambling through the weeks until school begins again and my daily writing and art routine has better defined hours. I'm still writing, still drawing and painting, but perhaps not at the same speed.

Does this mean I've been trammeled?

Good writing trumps everything

Over the weekend, I read a novel called Talking to the Dead: A Novel by Bonnie Grove. I'd been anticipating this book, partly because of one of those 6-degrees-of-separation circumstances, and partly because I follow Grove's info-packed blog. So I picked up this debut novel and snuggled into a corner of my love seat, preparing to indulge.

I was surprised as I began to read to find myself somewhat confused. Why? Because for reasons I still don't understand, I was expecting chick lit. Maybe I gave too much weight to the notion that it was "tender" & "quirky." Instead found a story that fell somewhere between "Regarding Henry" and "Sleeping With the Enemy." As I progressed further into the novel, I literally had to stop and reset my expectations. But it also helped me understand the maxim that "good writing trumps everything". In spite of my confusion, Grove's writing had drawn me into this story. And once I had my perspective back on track, Grove's writing shone as she led me through the trauma and discovery of a grieving woman.

So really, my review needs to begin here:

The novel begins with one of the best openings I have ever read:

"Kevin was dead and the people in my house wouldn't go home. They mingled after the funeral, eating sandwiches, drinking tea, and speaking in muffled tones. I didn't feel grateful for their presence. I felt exactly nothing. Funerals exist so we can close doors we'd rather leave open. But where did we get the idea that the best approach to facing death is to eat Bundt cake?"

So begins the story of Kate, a young widow, facing her future from an internal emptiness where the past months have imploded in her memory and left her with questions she is trying to answer. Grove deftly stays with her character, revealing Kate's story bit by bit as she pieces the past together through an odd assortment of characters, including Kate's dead husband, that are never what Kate has assumed they are. Grove just as expertly reveals that Kate is not everything we expect her to be either.

Grove manages to weave themes of betrayal, obsession (dare I say idolatry?), manipulation and human nature into a story of recovery and hope. Her light touch keeps it from being overwhelming and points instead to the heart of forgiveness on the path to wholeness. My only criticism, perhaps, in this book is that the romantic ending looks formulaic against the honest reality and occasional brutality of the rest of the story. But overall, it is beautifully crafted and will draw you in to Kate's journey through grief and back to life.


A review copy of this book was provided by The B&B Media Group.

Conference reflections

Phew! We just finished the Creative Arts conference today and am I tired. But in a really good way. I think all in all, we can call it a success.

And it was a huge learning experience. Both in the process of organizing the conference (8 months of it), in teaching at it, and in getting to attend some of the other workshops offered as well. I think from each one I found a nugget of information that was an absolutely golden one.

Randy Ingermanson once suggested that every writer (artist, etc) should attend conferences because "opportunities lie thick on the floor." I'll write more about some of those opportunities later but for now, just let me say he's absolutely right. And some of those opportunities look different than you expect.

By any other name

I met a woman today who's background is in theater costume. I've had a taste of this and while I enjoyed it and love clothes of all times and types (I was a seamstress for 8 years), I also knew that in that situation, I was out of my league. I got the job done, of course, but because I was also the set painter, it involved some intervention by a wonderful crew of volunteer seamstresses to come alongside to make it happen.

This person was telling me of a review that described her costume work as "luscious" along with a lot more complimentary words. Isn't that a great descriptive word? I can envision luscious costumes, and in fact will get to work with her this fall and am very excited to see that process in action. The time period we'll be working in is given to "luscious" and I will be wielding a needle again when necessary.

I have a friend that writes luscious prose. (Mine tends to be fairly streamlined. So do my favorite fashion eras. And my home decor. But I digress.) My mother makes a luscious chocolate cake. And ad companies have made millions from the concept of luscious lips. (Speaking of luscious, you need to check out the photos on this blog - wow!)

What word would you like someone to use about your writing?