Heather Webb’s post Anti-Heroes: Why Devious is so Delectable, and Where are all the Women? caught my attention and provided some answers. I enjoyed it and thought you might too.
–Claire Yezbak Fadden
Posted June 4, 2014
on:I’m a big fan of “House of Cards” and the devious Frank Underwood – his initials are FU, for gosh sakes. Underwood (evilly played by the multi-talented Kevin Spacey–loved him in “The Ref”) shifts from horrifying to sensitive to ruthless as seamlessly as turning your washing machine dial from heavy duty to permanent press to delicate.
Heather Webb’s post Anti-Heroes: Why Devious is so Delectable, and Where are all the Women? caught my attention and provided some answers. I enjoyed it and thought you might too.
–Claire Yezbak Fadden
Posted November 30, 2010
on:James Patterson and Robert B. Parker’s are 2 or 3 pages. Any Rand’s run as long as 35. Most writers are somewhere in between. Me, I’m always struggling with knowing when to end a chapter and start the next one.
In my research to find a rule for how long a chapter should be, I’ve discovered there isn’t one. There is no cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-all solution.
Some writers look at a chapter as a short story—each one has a goal for the characters, a miniature plot arc, a climactic moment and some sort of resolution that leads their characters onward.
Some folks put in a chapter break when the POV changes, the scene shifts or time changes. A writing instructor told her class to aim for your chapters to be at least 20 pages long. Other would-be authors count words—somewhere between 4,500 and 5,500 seems to be enough for them.
“there is one fundamental principle for chapter endings: Something should always be amiss.”
In her blog, Gail Carson Levine says there is one fundamental principle for chapter endings: “Something should always be amiss. If one problem has been solved, another should rise from the horizon or come forward from the background.”
For more of Levine’s useful tips on how to write those page-turning, chapter-ending lines. Visit http://gailcarsonlevine.blogspot.com/2009/11/end-of-chapter.html and when you get a second, tell me how you know when a chapter is a chapter.
–Claire Yezbak Fadden
Posted September 7, 2010
on:I’m a novelist.
I’m an essayist.
I’m a columnist.
I’m a journalist.
I’m a reporter.
I’m a wordsmith.
I’m an author.
I’m a poet.
I’m a playwright.
I’m a freelancer.
What do you do for a living?
This question has bewildered those in the writing field for centuries. I suspect Shakespeare, Dickinson, Hemingway, Angelou and Rowling even struggle to respond.
I started thinking about this after reading a recent post froma new, yet-to-be-published writer on LinkEds & Writers. She wondered how the rest of us answer that question and leave the inquisitor with no doubt as to how serious we are about our career choice.
I love how Miranda S. responded to the post: “I’m an independent journalist and editorial consultant.” As far as I’m concerned, Miranda nailed it. “When people ask the annoying questions about what I write/edit and where, I say ‘You name it! Right now I’m working on an article about X, and helping an author write his book and market it to agents.’ If it’s in person, I then take the opportunity to hand them my card.”
“You’re a writer because you can imagine something in such detail that it comes to life.”
On his Guide to Literary Agents Editors Blog, Chuck Sambuchino takes an interesting approach to answering the question. His post At What Point Can You Call Yourself a Writer?
Sambuchino gives a masterful answer: “You’re a writer because of the things you notice in the world, and the joy you feel stringing the right words together so they sound like music. You’re a writer because you can imagine something in such detail that it comes to life.” How true is that for all of us. Sambuchino adds, “You’re a writer because you’re obsessed with making your ideas clearer, tighter, fiercer. You’re a writer because you have every reason to stop (it takes too much time, pays too little, and the rejection hurts too terribly), but you can’t do it. It’s not that you love to write so much as you need to write.”
Ditto, Chuck.
So at the next cocktail party or book club meeting, when you’re asked what do you do, throw your shoulders back, smile confidently and proudly proclaim:
I’m a writer.
I’m a novelist.
I’m an essayist.
I’m a columnist.
I’m a journalist.
I’m a reporter.
I’m a wordsmith.
I’m an author.
I’m a poet.
I’m a playwright.
I’m a freelancer.
–Claire Yezbak Fadden
Posted May 18, 2010
on:One of the first questions Drusilla Campbell asks her writing students is: “What are you reading?” If you are a writer, Campbell assumes you are an avid reader. To become a better writer, she encourages you to read — and read a lot — in a variety of genres, not just the one you write in.
The women in my two book clubs feel the same. This year’s selections cover a wide variety of genres — mystery, memoir, historic, romance, adventure, short stories — and my favorite — the classics. Over the past few months I’ve read (or in some cases re-read): To Kill a Mockingbird, Tortilla Flats and The Good Earth. Upcoming on our list: The Catcher in the Rye and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. You probably recognize these titles from your high school American Lit class syllabus. I must confess, reading them now — a few years after my senior prom — brings an entirely new perspective.
I’m intrigued by the depth of the characters, the vivid scenes, the comic relief Harper Lee, John Steinbeck and Pearl Buck, seamlessly poured into their works. Mostly, though, I’m amazed that they produced such masterpieces without the aid of computers, cut-and-paste and Google.
So many classics are on my “still-to-read” list—Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, Kerouac’s On the Road and Orwell’s Animal Farm, to name a few. But I’ve made a start. Page after page, I’m immersed in wonderful, engaging stories.
As a lagniappe (unexpected gift), I’m also learning from the masters what makes their writing relevant, compelling and still in demand some 50 years or more after publication.
— Claire Yezbak Fadden