The "Literary" Genre

For a long time I have wondered about classic literature. Why do those authors like Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Sir Walter Scott, and many others seem to get away with things that are no-gos in our time? Like telling, for instance. And the author's voice slipping in.
The beginning of Pride and Prejudice is all telling and author-voice for the first paragraph. But everyone seems to love it. Have our reading preferences changed so drastically that what was good writing back then is shabby craftsmanship now?
I was rather confused myself so I asked my critique group about it. Diana Sharples , the group leader, explained it rather well.
She said that the classic novels are in the "literary" genre where such things are acceptable. The only problem is that modern readers are not so much into the "literary" thing. They want faster-paced, more exciting books. If you are trying to write in the "literary" genre you have to have plenty of talent, be a fair hand at keeping an interesting and worthwhile "author voice", and be able to sell it. If you truly do want to be a "literary" writer, than you'll have to accept the fact that your public of adoring fans will be much smaller than if you write for the main group of readers.
I was glad to get that question answered--I don't think I could have figured it out for myself. :P Also, while on the subject of publishing and writing and things of that nature, Taylor Lynn did a really great post on the submission process of publishing, as well as writing queries, etc.
So hop on over and read it--she has some great ideas! :) -Rachel

In Which I Find Myself In the Depths of Despair.

The writing journey is full of ups and downs. This afternoon I feel like scrapping Puddleby Lane. Especially after some people have suggested I do just that with my first chapter. BWAHHHH! :'(
If it was a real manuscript and it was the dead of winter, my story might already be smoldering in the flames of the wood-stove.
The criticism was that I started off too slowly. I know that. But what do I do with that? I don't know. And so I am rather in the "depths of despair" to quote Anne Shirley. Someone said it quite well below. *Sigh*

"I am irritated by my own writing. I am like a violinist whose ear is true, but whose fingers refuse to reproduce precisely the sound he hears within. "
Gustave Flaubert

"People are certainly impressed by the aura of creative power which a writer may wear, but can easily demolish it with a few well-chosen questions. Bob Shaw has observed that the deadliest questions usually come as a pair: "Have you published anything?" – loosely translated as: I've never heard of you – and "What name do you write under?" – loosely translatable as: I've definitely never heard of you."
Brian Stableford

"Many books require no thought from those who read them, and for a very simple reason; they made no such demand upon those who wrote them. "
Charles Caleb Colton

I feel slightly better already. Oh dear. I can't use "slightly". It ends in "ly"--yet another trouble-spot for me. Let's do some cheering up, slightly "I know better than you" quotes ;)

"One nice thing about putting the thing away for a couple of months before looking at it is that you start appreciate your own wit. Of course, this can be carried too far. But it's kind of cool when you crack up a piece of writing, and then realize you wrote it. I recommend this feeling."
Steven Brust

"Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."
Cyril Connolly

"Forget all the rules. Forget about being published. Write for yourself and celebrate writing."
Melinda Haynes

"My purpose is to entertain myself first and other people secondly. "
John D. MacDonald

"Write something to suit yourself and many people will like it; write something to suit everybody and scarcely anyone will care for it."
Jesse Stuart

"I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten - happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another. "
Brenda Ueland

I think I am sufficiently cheered up that I can go shop for pie-making supplies in peace. I won't think about my story. I won't talk about my story. I won't even let the critique-groupers' suggestions bother me. They are mostly true anyway. It's only because my pride is squished that it nettled me at all. The people are only trying to be helpful. My poor little baby that got it's imperfect nose commented on is just a little fractious. ;) Maybe I'll find this quote comes to fulfillment while I do all this "not thinking about it" :P

"Moving around is good for creativity: the next line of dialogue that you desperately need may well be waiting in the back of the refrigerator or half a mile along your favorite walk."
Will Shetterly

With the woes of many another writer filling her brain,
Rachel

If You Wrote Like I Write.... ;)

Do you want to know some of my writing secrets? Not like writing tips, but secrets of the way I write? They'll make you laugh, and make me blush. Ready? Okay.

1.) I use a superfluous number of exclamation marks. This quote from "Cranford" could be said about any of my writing:
"She wrote in such distress--there were exclamation marks!" ;)

2.) I hate writing with pencils. If I am forced to use one, I sharpen it every couple of minutes. I absolutely *cannot* use a blunt tipped writing instrument. :P You want a quote to go with this? Okay. Here's one from Puddleby Lane:
"Of course she knew that writing with a pencil would be far more practical—she would be able to erase mistakes. But there was something stimulating in the scratching of the pen’s nib. It liberated her fancy and the words flowed freer. A pencil humped along like a bored snail but an ink-pen skimmed the surface of the paper like a gull winging above the ocean waves"

3.) I am guilty of plugging in synonyms of "said" at the end of my dialog to make the writing sound more prestigious, and ending up sounded the direct opposite. Believe it or not, "said" is invisible, and therefore doesn't ruin the flow of your writing like other, longer words might.

4.) I vow that a glass of homemade (or Chik-fil-A) lemonade is the best companion for inspiration. Hot tea makes me sleepy, you need hands to eat anything and there's something about the zing of lemonade that wakes you up... ;)

5.) My brain freezes up when there is a sister looking over my shoulder at the progress of my story. I can't think quite so well. Especially when I know they are casting silent darts of disapproval over the fate of certain characters...ahem.

6.) I scribble poems and story ideas down on random scraps of paper and stick them in random books, and come across them later on long after I had forgotten about them.

7.) I apparently make faces and generally act out my book on my face while writing. (Or at least, my sisters tell me so.)

Was that at all interesting? I hope so. What are some weird things you all do when you write? Any strange habits? Have a great Memorial Day weekend! I'm entering a pie-contest. :) Even authoresses are not above dabbling in pastry-making. ;) -Rachel

Beautiful People: Learning Your Characters

Taylor Lynn told me about a really neat bi-monthly blogging event called Beautiful People over at Further Up and Further In. The idea is that the characters you create are beautiful people, and this is an event to help you get to know and understand your characters better. It might sound rather vague and hopelessly artsy, but it's really quite simple. Sky lists a chunk of questions that you get to answer about your own character. So I think I'm going to do it for Cora Lesley, since she is my newest character and I don't "know" her extremely well yet. Ready?
Here we go:

1. What type of laugh does he/she have?
Hmmm......I think she has a low, sweet, dreamy laugh with a shade of wistfulness in it.

2. Who is his/her best friend?
Her much older sister, Maggie, or her nephew Tucker. He may only be six, but he's the one who understands her best.

3. What is his/her family like?
A fairly young family, as Cora lives with her sister Maggie, Maggie's husband Frank, and their children, Tucker and Dot. (Dorothy) They are strong Christians, but since they are a young family, Frank and Maggie are not quite so wise as we may wish. Frank is rather a spur-of-the-moment fellow, which is how they move to Puddleby Lane in the first place. :)

4. Is he/she a Christian, or will he/she eventually find Jesus?
Yes. Cora is a Christian, and her faith in Jesus grows throughout the story as she experiences God's provision.

5. Does he/she believe in fairies?
No. No fairies, but she is a hopeless romantic and loves storybook style tales. I think Cora would wish she could believe in fairies.

6. Does he/she like hedgehogs?
Hedgehogs?! Well, since Cora is, in a way, like me, than I'd say yes. Hmmm....actually, I may have to write a hedgehog in...haha!

7. Favorite kind of weather?
She is not particular as to weather as much as to the time of day. Twilight is her favorite, or moonlight, or a soft May morning. But Cora enjoys a rip-roaring thunderstorm now and then too.

8. Does he/she have a good sense of humor? If so what kind? (Slapstick, wit, sarcasm, etc.?)
Cora does have a good sense of humor, but she is not terribly witty or clever in her style. She depends on Maggie for providing the zing while she provides the echoing laughter.

9. How did he/she do in school, or any kind of education they might have had.
Cora's formal education was cut rather short by the death of her parents. She moved in with Frank and Maggie and has been teaching herself several years now. English is her strongest subject, as she is a writer and reader.

10. Any strange hobbies?
Hmm....She hoards illustrations of her favorite books to paper her trunk with....she hopes to become a world-famous novelist someday....she can dance? Yes. She can dance. Though no many people know it. She prefers dancing on the seashore once they move to Puddleby Lane, or practicing a hornpipe with Captain Boniface. :)

There you go! An interesting exercise indeed! :) I think that I love Cora more than ever! :) She's much like me: motherly, thoughtful, a romantic, a novelist, a dreamer, but I think she has a more serious side to her. She has had quite a bit of tragedy in her life and it has aged her soul beyond her fourteen years. She is the dependable member of the family and often feels responsible for keeping morale high and anxiety low.
So does anyone have any more questions for me to answer about Cora? :) Let me know! -Rachel

Hints for Writing Historical Fiction

I thought that since I've learned a little about writing historical fiction (or fiction set back in time) in my writing experience, I'd share a few tips with you. Not that I necessarily know a lot, but it's what I write, so I've learned some things along the way.

1. Read a book either written or set in the era you're using
This is extremely helpful, as you will be able to gather information such as clothing popular in that era, words, politics, literature, celebrities, etc. Do take caution when reading fiction *set* in the era and not written in it, because the author didn't necessarily do his or her research. I found this hint extremely helpful when writing The Seasonings, because it is set in the Victorian Era, and I've read extensively and done extensive research on what this era had to offer so I was pretty immersed in the literature of the day.

2. Research colloquialisms, terms, sayings that the people used back then.
You should be able to find a treasure-trove of colorful language. (In the best possible way) Expressions that have long been buried and forgotten. Some of my favorites are:
"Saints above!"
"Blooming barnacles!"
"That's all a bunch of who-struck-John."
"Bully"
"Lawful hearts"
And many more. They just add a certain snap and color to your novel that would be entirely missing if you stuck to modern language. (Sorry everyone, but as a writer, I groan over texting language. It's so....cold and utilitarian in my opinion.)

3. Get out of the Slough of Insipid Language
"Nice," "Very," and "Suddenly" are pretty much goners. Especially the first two. Mark Twain has a marvelous quote regarding "very," but I don't think I'd quite like to quote him, as he uses a word I *don't* recommend. ;) Scour your brain and thesauruses and dictionaries and other books for strong adjectives. I promise you it's worth it. Only, do be careful. Some words have changed meaning over time, a good example being the word "gay" which used to be a sweet little word meaning "cheerful, brightly-colored, happy, etc." You probably want to nix that word in your writing, though it is historically accurate, as you are writing for a modern audience.

4. Research your setting
There is nothing more disappointing than cracking open a "historical fiction" novel and finding it could have been set in New York City today with very little change.
I wrote The Seasonings as being set in a British settlement in East India. Along the way I ended up doing more authentic research. I had started with The Little Princess, Homeless Bird and The Secret Garden being my authority on India, (and more specifically) British-occupied East India, but that wasn't going to cut it. Once I did my scouring, learning the customary foods and clothing, the topography of the land, etc. my story gained a lot of color. By the way, I don't recommend doing as I did and using only a couple of fictional books as your guides to life in your setting. It made for some pretty rough descriptions at first.

5. Be accurate
If you are truly writing a historical novel, this is perhaps the most important tip I can give you. History is defined by real people and real events. I'm sorry, but you can't change the date of battles or deaths of key historical figures or anything. Your writing will pretty much be discounted by anyone who is brushed up on their historical facts. For instance, in Puddleby Lane I needed to be careful I started my story in the proper time of year and time of month so that the crashing of the stock market would be at the correct time.

6. Make your characters' names eye-catching.
The way too over-used names of today should be tossed out when you go to start your historical novel. Do a Google search, or if you're a purist, scan through some census or parish records and find some names that haven't been used to pieces.

Hope these ideas helped! Anyone have any more ideas or suggestions? :) -Rachel

Puddleby Lane: A Description and Excerpt :)

Okay. Since everybody pleaded with me to do a little blurb about Puddleby Lane I guess I shall comply. ;) Below is a description, sort of like what might be on the back of the book--doesn't reveal too much, but gets you interested. :)

"In her fourteen years of life Cora Lesley hasn't met with much that she'd call adventure. Beyond The Accident, there hasn't even been anything worth writing down as her "life story". That is until the stock-market crashes on October 29, 1929 and Cora and her sister's family lose everything. They are forced to leave their cozy home in the Mid-West to move to a shabby seaside town. Does Puddleby Lane hold a promise of adventure? It seems so. The discovery of the Secret Place, the budding friendship with Captain Boniface and his queer home, The Bonny Addie, and even the change of scenery all point to new experiences for Cora. But when calamity touches the family and a shadow falls across Puddleby Lane, the question arises: Will Cora, Maggie, and the children be force to go through yet another storm, or will this new set of adventures teach them to lean more than ever on the Everlasting Arms?"
And to capture (hopefully) your attention further, I have provided an excerpt. As always, my work is copyrighted, and therefore cannot be stolen. Please acknowledge this and know that the law is on my side. *shakes fist at the thieves flocking this blog* ;) Oh! And please also realize that this is rough-cut with not a scrap of editing done yet, so don't judge me. ;)
Without further ado, an excerpt from Puddleby Lane, Chapter Four: Blackest of Days

Cora ran into the kitchen and tied an apron around her waist stepping across Mildred, the fat gray tabby cat. “Say, Maggie? Can we turn on the radio?”

Maggie’s hands were covered in soap bubbles. She brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead with her wrist. “Let’s sing together instead, k' ?”

“Perfect!” A little fountain of happiness burbled in Cora’s heart and sent a spring to her step. She and Maggie hadn’t sung together in ages. Cora poured some more soap flakes into the sink for Maggie and swished the water vigorously until the suds piled high. Then she took a stack of wet plates from the counter and gently wiped them with a linen towel.

“What’ll it be first, Cora? Sweet Adeline?”

Cora giggled. “Or Captain Jinks.”

“Or Yankee Doodle!”

“Or Believe Me If All Those Those Endearing Young Charms.” Cora’s cheekbones ached from smiling so much.

Maggie lowered her voice until it was as growly as Frank’s when he first woke up in the mornings. “Believe me if all those endearing young charms were to change by tomorrow and fade—” She broke off suddenly with a peal of laughter and leaned against the sink. “Oh, it’s useless, Cora. Frank sang that song when he was courting me—you remember the day when he and I took Daddy’s boat out on the river? Frank insisted on serenading me, and standing up to do it, but when he reached out to pick one of the water-lilies, the whole boat tipped over. I can’t sing it anymore without remembering the face he made as he fell!”

Cora joined in Maggie’s laughter. The picture Maggie’s words conjured was too funny—Frank was generally so dignified. To think of him falling with a great splash into the river and coming up again, perhaps with a bit of duck-weed clinging to his nose, was absurd.

“Perhaps you’re right. We’d better let the radio do our singing for us this morning.” Maggie dried her hands on her pretty print apron and walked to the cabinet radio in the living room. A crackling strain of music floated into the kitchen where Cora stood. She hummed along with the words as she washed the dishes, swishing the wash-rag in time to the beat. Maggie returned to the kitchen and took a bottle of milk from the icebox, setting it on the counter beside a plate of cookies. She reached into the cupboard for a glass.

They had just arrived at the bridge of the song when the music cut off suddenly. A voice, loud and harsh, broke in upon their senses, jarring Cora’s mind. “This just in from our correspondents. After an unprecedented rise in value, the stock markets on Wall Street have crashed.”

More than the stock-market crashed. Cora winced as she heard a shattering sound. She turned to see her sister, pale as death, standing in a puddle of milk and broken glass.

“Maggie!”

But Maggie hushed Cora and flew toward the radio. Cora followed and grabbed Dot in her arms to keep her away from the broken glass and clapped a hand over her mouth just in case the baby tried to talk.

“The damage is total,” the sonorous voice went on. “Many people have lost everything and all investors are in danger of damage to their fortunes. The public is in an uproar, and the police have had to be summoned to banks for the prevention of a rush. As always, we will keep you updated…”

Cora heard no more. She only saw Maggie sink into the armchair and cover her eyes with one hand. Underneath her fingers, still red from the dishwater, Maggie’s face was as white as the lace on her collar.

“Maggie, Maggie, what’s wrong? Don’t look like that!” Cora put Dot down on the carpet and shook Maggie’s shoulders gently.

Her sister laughed and sobbed hysterically. “Cora—oh Cora! Frank just invested every penny we owe in the stock markets last week. We’re ruined. Absolutely ruined.”

Ruined. The word tolled in Cora’s swirling mind like a death knell. Ruined. Ruined. Cora crumpled to the floor beside Maggie and took her sister’s free hand in both of her own. “Shhh…There, there, Maggie. It can’t be as bad as it sounds.”

Could it? Cora tried to steady her thoughts. Tried to grab a straw of reality in the garish nightmare around her. Something normal and tangible. She fingered the hem of Maggie’s apron and averted her eyes, unable to look at Maggie’s frightened face. But neither could she bear to be ignorant of the worst. Cora forced herself to smile and stroke Maggie’s cheek, keeping her eyes on Maggie’s. She must be strong—it was frightening to see her sister falling to pieces like this. “It’ll be all right, Maggie. Somehow we’ll be okay.”

Maggie composed herself with visible effort and wiped her eyes. Her breath came in straggling gulps, like a tattered butterfly trying to fly. “You’re right, Cora. I’m being a silly woman. We must be strong.”

“Mum-ma.” Dot picked herself up and clasped her chubby arms around Maggie’s neck.

Maggie laughed, but the usual music in its tones was drowned in tears. “Mama’s all right, dearest. I just had a bit of a fright, that’s all.”

A Reminder and the Prize Announced

It is incumbent upon me to remind all of my lovely followers that "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words" contest will be drawing to a close on June 5th! :) I have the prize chosen, but no picture of it. The winner I choose will receive a set of three handmade bookmarks, made by the yet to be announced Sweet Alyssum Etsy Shop! :) Please, please enter! I promise your entry will not take a long time to write (believe me, 1,000 words or less is *not* long at all!) and I'd love as much participation as I can get! :) -Rachel
P.S. As a side-note, Puddleby Lane is coming along very well in the in-between-farming moments! :)