52 at 52

Please welcome guest blogger, friend and colleague Sherry Stanfa-Stanley (or as I like to call her, SSS—one more S than Suzy Soulé). Her 52at52 Project was born as a way of shaking up her quotidian life in response to celebrating her arrival at age 52. She’s in the midst of a year of trying 52 things she’s never before done—a year of weekly experiences well outside her comfort zone. Today she’s going to share her adventures on her solo trip to Italy last—which sparked the idea.

While being interviewed for a newspaper article a couple weeks ago, I was asked how I got the idea for undertaking 52 new challenges. I initially answered the same way I have before: that it followed putting my house on the market and losing weight.

But as I gave it more thought, I realized the idea had been brewing longer. It actually started with a trip to Italy last summer.

I spent half of that trip with my youngest son, who was serving an assistantship there. The other half, I traveled the country on my own.

I'd never been to Europe. I'd never ventured outside the U.S. at all, except to Canada. And besides having to go through customs on the Ambassador Bridge, which is just an hour's drive away, that hardly counts as international travel.

I plotted an itinerary. I scheduled flights. I booked hotels in Rome, Florence, Siena, and Venice. I researched train and bus transportation, but was advised to wait and arrange that after I arrived. Here's an interesting tidbit about traveling in Italy: they seldom ask for your ticket or announce where that particular bus or train--on which you are already seated--is going. So you'd better be damn sure you're on the right one.

Somehow, I managed to arrive at all my planned destinations, find my hotels, and see all the major sights--without a tour guide or a travel companion to set me on track when I second-guessed myself (which was often). I also enjoyed fabulous meals and wine, without speaking a word of Italian.

In fact, I never did learn how to ask, in Italian, "Where is the bus station?" or "Where is the bathroom?" The only phrase I did master, by the end of the trip, was "Un altro, per favore." (Another one, please.") That proved sufficient.

I came away from that trip realizing I was far more independent, capable, and courageous than I'd ever imagined.  One of the things that stayed with me while I traveled solo was Cheryl Strayed's experience on the trail. I’d finished reading "Wild" the day before I left, and remember thinking throughout my trip that if she could get through that, I could manage several days in Italy on my own.

Most of us are, I would guess, more capable than we think, if only we choose to step outside our safety zones and challenge ourselves.

This year presents a new set of challenges in my life. Many are much smaller in scale than solo-traveling through a foreign country. But they're all exciting and enlightening, in their own way.

I hope a few of you are finding this 52/52 Project helps you to challenge yourselves. You may find that frightening or sometimes frustrating. But at the same time, you'll discover how reassuring and liberating it can be to push yourself beyond your comfort zone.

After the first couple times, you may just find yourself saying to yourself: "That wasn't so bad after all. Un altro, per favore!"

Sherry Stanfa-Stanley pens fiction, humor, and human interest stories. She was recently published in the anthology, Fifty Shades of Funny: Hook-Ups, Break-Ups and Crack-Ups, and received a national fellowship in 2011 by the Midwest Writers Workshop. She is currently changing her life through 52 enlightening, frightening, and sometimes humiliating new experiences. Follow along on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/The52at52Project.

the vine field

The post-school-year getaway trip is over. I'm in a holding pattern with a couple of clients while they decide the fate a line of products (for which I'm the copywriter), and I have a manuscript out to a freelance editor, and another out, via my agent, to a couple other editors. And a third, yes, a third, composting between drafts. I'm also letting a book I've just read muddle about in my head before interviewing the author, and waiting for another book I've been asked to review to arrive in the mail.

So. Instead of power-washing the garden shed, training for an iron man competition, or catching up on all the blogs I've bookmarked, I'm following my chickens around with my iphone in order to figure out this vine shit that all the youngsters are hot and heavy about. Y'all playing in my sandbox? Embracing the latest distraction because, really, we simply do not have enough of them?

Plus, I have a cold.  

How did you celebrate the Super Moon?

alt(ar) ego

So, as many of you know, I've been married a few times. With each trip to the altar (although, in honesty, an actual altar was only part of the first knot-tying episode), I embraced my new identity as Mrs. So-and-So with equal vigor and engagement.

And so it goes with my various long-term writing personas. Any of you know this person? Well, that's who I am Monday through Friday when I'm called into service for packaging copy or social media or the occasional press release.

Then there's me as a writer of dark literary novels and short stories. That's the voice I cozy up to in this blog.

But, like any Gemini worth her weight in salt, I became restless. Something was missing. I felt that my nicer twin wasn't getting much air time. That writer of fantastical tales. The daydreaming teenage girl that I still am sometimes. In marketing speak (I know, yuk), I needed another platform. A place where I could talk to teenagers and wax blabbily on  about YA books, authors and other topics of interest to the YA crowd.

Plus, I wanted a hipster look. My own Instagram account.

To the rescue came my fantastic daughter-in-law and graphic designer, Katie. After a few back-and-forth emails and discussions, she assembled the look and feel of what I was after. And, hey, my toolbelt comes complete with any number of names so I grabbed the one that the feds currently know me as.

It doesn't escape me, the narcissism in all these identities. In fact, I think I'll just up the ante in the arrogance category and keep wishing really hard for the day to expand to 26 hours. Two additional hours in which neither exhaustion, hunger nor sloth factor in my ability to keep up with all the various versions of me. Anyway, I guess this is my official launch. Suzysoule.com. Check it out.

the stages of building story

I’m between voices. As my latest draft of Blackdirt lies drying in the sun, and a desire to give another polish to both Raising Cheer and The Empress Chronicles pokes out like a tulip, my head is a ping-pong match, and the ensuing (disparate) imagery that accompanies the characters’ voices is keeping me in a sort of la-la land.

Here’s what it looks like: Lily (who, just to complicate matters has a split personality—so she’s really three voices) Liz, Sisi and Brady, when they whisper ideas to me, yanking me into their settings and conundrums, there’s this lovely period of disequilibrium. I’m in the broad expanse of an onion field. A quiet front porch of a summer-swollen farmhouse. I’m deep in Forest Park, damp from a spring hailstorm. I’m in a cold Bavarian castle.

In the POV class I just finished teaching one of the students made an interesting discovery about his process. He realized that how he develops a scene starts with plot point, and then invites a distant third-person assessment of the plot point:

When I hit a plot point that could be told from any one of a number of povs I start by dashing down the scene in objective 3rd and stay out of anyone's head. The scene sketch is rather thin this way, of course. Until this class I had no idea I was doing this--I only registered annoyance  at the thinness of some scenes. 

Now I see that I have just been delaying the move to 3rd limited until I understand the needs of the story and can dive into the right head. What's freeing is that now I don't feel like I'm "doing it wrong"--more that I'm doing it in stages.

I love that he shared this, and it made me think of my own process, which I always assumed was character-driven, but diving into the real chicken/egg scenario, I now see that it’s really landscape-driven. The sensual aspects of a scene tend to appear first, followed by a voicey commentary on those aspects, and through those elements, eventually an action emerges. An intent. So if we’re talking “stages” – that’s my natural process.

However, some of you remember that Raising Cheer was my plotboard experiment, right? I had this action-oriented framework into which I flowed the actual story. In retrospect, I’d have to say that a plot board may be a compensatory device I’ll need to rely on in order to force me into conflict, lest I hang out in the woods, the castle or the fields with Brady, Liz, Lily and Sisi all the live long and never take them to uncomfortable places.

So what does this mean in terms of “approach” to narrative? How can one blend a natural approach with a framework that leads to a satisfying outcome? Is this, after all, what is meant by craft? Interesting to ponder.

What’s your natural approach to story? What appears first?

get in while the door's still open

Hey all! My brand new class at LitReactor class kicks off tomorrow. As of this morning, there are still nine eight seven seats left, and the ones that are filled, I guarantee, contain the smartest, voiciest, kindest writing peers ever. I can't wait to jump in the deep end.

The subject we're covering this next ten days is point of view. Before you yawn too loudly, listen up. We're going deep with it. Really looking at the effect on the reader when we choose to filter our stories through a particular stance or voice.

Also, in this class you'll get a special treat. Those popular Portland authors (Chuck, Chelsea, Monica and LitReactor perennial fave, Lidia) have kindly revealed their own reasons/rules for choosing one POV over another, and those insights alone, I believe, are worth the price of admission (a very affordable price, imho).

A couple of other things. Eight "chances" for instructor critique on your pages, astoundingly generous peer critique throughout, one big assignment and several optional "mini" exercises, and a chance to win a signed copy of Monica Drake's THE STUD BOOK!

More info here!

blackdirt

Am three hours from popping off to holiday. A week of R & R with my sweetheart which begins with a soccer tournament for Carson later today, a hand-off to Carson's dad, then bring on the M&Ms 'cause it's road trip time!

This spring break couldn't be more welcome. It's been a rough winter. Kirk's been sick half of it, and I'm coming off some horrendous stomach/head thing (mixed with a particularly heinous "monthly" sitch--God, bring on menopause for real, this perimenopause crap is like giving birth to eight pounds of placenta. ok, tmi. But it's my blog, so fuck it).

Ahem.

So I just finished a rewrite of a project I began in, uh, 1993. Yes, 20 years ago. This project, a novel, has gone by the name BLACKDIRT lo these decades, and it's chock full of homage to the grotesque (in particular, grotesque's intersection with Old World Catholicism), as well as more than a few erotic elements, along with a smattering of, well, let's call it twisted girl-power.  I'm pretty sure the period from hell is nature's way of sage-sticking the project from my uterus. A 20 year pregnancy (albeit, many of those years dormant, you know, like a virus that hides in a rat?), followed by six weeks of labor.

Want to know more about this baby? Of course you do!

Here's my elevator speech-in-progress:

Lily’s father is a second-generation Austrian immigrant, second-generation small town physician, at the mercy of a proud and spiteful mother and a dutiful, sickly father. Lily’s mother, an orphan raised by Polish onion farmers in the fertile Hudson Valley black dirt, slowly dissolves into madness. Lily’s world view develops in the spaces between her Polish grandparent’s onion fields and the mahogany halls of her paternal Oma and Opa’s house.

Brought up in a dying Catholic culture by parents who are torn apart with longing they can neither satisfy nor transcend, dyslexic Lily falls prey to the nefarious elements of a collapsing rural landscape, and slowly sinks into the voices of Rue and Camellia, a duo that acts as both guide and the bridge to dark family secrets. Once Lily discovers the haunting truth of her existence, the voices take over and propel her to seek revenge and transcendence.

Framed with a thriller overlay, Blackdirt edges into magical realism and allegory, where myth and reality merge, the edges blur, and Lily becomes a symbol of pagan transfiguration on the cusp of a contemporary fin-de-siècle. 

Okay, guys, I'm packing the car. What's your favorite road trip food? 

last words

Hey, writer friends, let's play a game! 

A few years ago some pals and I decided to do NaNoWriMo and encourage one another by emailing our "last paragraph of the day" each day. We thought it might be fun to create some additional deliverables beyond the daily word count.

No other rules, no other context, no "what you need to know," simply, the last paragraph you write before tucking yourself into bed.

Our investment in each others' writing blossomed, as did our enthusiasm for our own projects. There was that little "whip" you know? And the feeling that if we didn't submit our paragraphs, we were letting our readers down. Plus, there were some HILARIOUS paragraphs that had us aching for more, more, MORE!

And, hello, it ensured we all were writing every single day.

Do you want to play with me??

Here's how it'll work. Each day, for the next 2 weeks, (March 6 - March 20), post your last para in the comments section below.

As added incentive, everyone who participates and manages to post a paragraph EVERY day will automatically be entered in my lottery for a SIGNED COPY OF THE STUD BOOK BY MONICA DRAKE!!!!

To get us started, here's my last paragraph from yesterday:

There are no sections in party stores where you can purchase Welcome Home from Prison banners. No piñatas in the shape of a ball-and-chain. Forget ordering a cake with a nail file baked into it. The only even close-to-gag party favors for a newly minted ex-con are squirt guns. So I bought a dozen, and then drove to the Little York Package Store for the booze.

Ready, set, GO!!

UPDATE 3/20/13 THANKS FOR BEING PART OF LAST WORDS! I'M SO INTRIGUED BY THE STORIES HERE. I'M AN EPISODIST AT HEART. (IS THAT A WORD? SHOULD BE.) ANYWAY, I DECIDED TO DO A RANDOM # GENERATOR THING TO DRAW FOR THE MONICA BOOK. I FIGURED IF I PULLED MY OWN NUMBER, I'D JUST REDO IT. BUT I DIDN'T HAVE TO. THE RNG PULLED 38, COUNTING DOWN, THAT MEANS THAT DAVID MILLSTONE WON THE SIGNED MONICA DRAKE BOOK! DAVID, THE BOOK COMES OUT APRIL 12. I'LL GET YOUR COPY SIGNED LICKETY SPLIT THEREAFTER AND SEND IT OUT. THANKS AGAIN EVERYONE!

unkiss me e-chapbook experiment

love. love. love.

I have several clients who either want to self-pub or are self-pubbing, and it occurs to me that, although I have a distance-learners understanding of the vendors, options, players, I've never done it myself, so all my advice is abstract.

A few weeks ago I signed on as a member of the "launch team" for this sweet little book by one of the most revered experts in the agent/pub community. If you're scratching your head about how, whether, when, what or if in the self-pub hubbub, I highly recommend HOW DO I DECIDE, by Rachelle Gardner. It's a $3.99 ebook, and a terrific reference.

chock full of goodies!

Me? Pretty much my whole adult life is a DIY experiment. I've freelanced for over 20 years, dabble in a variety of $-producing writing, editing and teaching gigs, and here I am, at 10:15, in my bathrobe (I'm not recommending that, per se, just trying to offer up the flexibility factor that defines, and will continue to define, my life).

And yet.

I have an agent, and she's pedaling two one of my novels at the moment, and I truly, truly want to nail the elusive traditional book contract. That said, I see a lot of potential in utilizing the technology, the social media marketing options, and the entrepreneurial spirit I'm cursed blessed with to learn more about getting some of my work in front of readers and building my platform and readership.

So, dear readers, I conducted a little Valentine's Day season experiment over the weekend, and uploaded a skinny collection of my stories that (but for one) have been published in small presses over the years. I did it via Smashwords, and I'm still messing around with paragraph formatting, but I think with the latest upload I figured it out. (The gatekeepers are finicky, which is probably a good thing.) I'm selling the book for .99 on Amazon, but am going to give it away for Valentine's Day (coupon code VP23Q until Feb. 15th) if you buy it through Smashwords. So far I've "sold" five twelve 17 27 copies, but the day week is young! Picture me at a mall food court donning an apron and a tray o' chicken teriyaki samples--that's going to be me for the next few days.

The other funnish thing that went along with this, was creating a web page to platform my little e-book--which relied on finding an amusing image for the cover that was big enough for the the background on the web page. (Thank God for morguefile)!

I'm thinking of making a video/trailer, too, but that could be a stretch.

On balance, so far this feels a little like playing house with a new boyfriend--you know? Like, you're not married or even officially living together, but you spend a few weekends testing the waters -- working in the garden, making soup -- it's about possibility as much as it is about caution, this little "let's put a book together and offer it up." Fun without all the gravity and seriousness of true commitment. I'm not sure that's what it's supposed to feel like, though ...

What about you? Have you lost your e-book making virginity yet? What did you think of the experience?