To get the most out of your reading, here are a few tips:

1. Form your own opinion.
   Try to approach a book with an open mind. Although you may chose to read a particular book because of a review or word-of-mouth recommendation, try to set aside the opinions of others and determine your own opinion of how well the books works.
2. Read for pleasure.
   Don’t take notes or mark passages when you read a book for the first time. Simply enjoy the ride that the author has created. You can analyze later. With a well-written book, you’ll be compelled to experience the characters’ emotions, and all thoughts of analysis will be banished.
3. Monitor your reactions.
   After you read a book, consider how engaged you were when reading. Where was the greatest energy? Where did your interest fade? Monitoring your reactions will help you determine how well the book met it’s goal of satisfying the reader.
4. Analyze your reactions.
   Ask yourself why it works – or doesn’t. How could it be improved? You may even want to discuss the book with others, or consider the opinions expressed in reviews. How do others view the book differently?
5. Read it again.
   When a book evokes a strong reaction from you, read it more than once. On a second reading, you will likely discover aspects of the story that you didn’t notice the first time. You can also evaluate the details of the story – character,  structure, plot, dialogue, and so on.
6. Pitch the book.
   If you had to sell this book to a reader, how would you do it? Try to write a one-sentence synopsis of the story that would compel someone else to read it. Your sentence should answer the question, “What is the story?”

The obsession began slowly, with only the original version of magnetic poetry – which is a collection of tiny magnetic words, in case you don’t know. I quickly needed more, leading to an injection of Shakespearean words, as well as Romance, Art and others.

I’m not sure that magnetic poetry is really useful for writer’s block. I’ve never written a sentence using it that sparked a story or even a line in a story. But it does remind me to play with words, to treat them with irreverence, to stir them into new combinations. For me, that’s an important thing to remember.

I also love seeing what messages people who visit my home might leave behind. These days, the word board speaks of a “frantic concrete flower” and how to “balance above a metaphor” – a tricky task.

It also instructs me to “breathe rhythm,” “explore wild magic” and “embrace poetry.” As for the latter, I think I already have.

Feature Author Interview

For more of my online author interviews and a participant review of my writing workshops, click here.

Pull out a yo-yo, toss a few tricks and most people want to give it a try. There’s something compelling about manipulating a yo-yo up and down a string, never mind mastering more complicated tricks. Is it the satisfaction of achieving desired results? All I know is that when I successfully throw an around-the-world or trapeze trick, I’m thrilled – and eager to try more advanced tricks.

Modern yo-yo design and construction has changed what we can do with a yo-yo – like the new ball-bearing system that allows for unprecedented spin times. Yo-yos can sleep for minutes, rather than seconds, allowing for infinitely more complicated tricks, like Buddha’s revenge. The yo-yo has catapulted from cheap toy to high-tech wonder.

So it’s no surprise that an underground yo-yoing movement exists.  Websites such as yoyoexpert.com or yoyonation.com offer advice on which yo-yos to use for which type of tricks as well as video instruction on specific tricks. And if you thought yo-yo contests were a thing of the past, check out the World Yo-Yo Contest in Florida and the National Yo-Yo Contest in California, which includes qualifying regional contests.

Personally, I think the appeal of yo-yoing lies in the ability to coax that carefully crafted construction of plastic, aluminum and string into doing what I want it to do.

To check out my video book trailer for The Yo-Yo Prophet, click here. To enter a draw for a signed copy of the book, simply comment on this post, or send me an email through my website before September 20th.

The beginning of a story is usually fun to write — I feel inspired and enthusiastic. But after I write the first chapters, writing can slow down and it can be hard to keep going. A novel can take so long to write that it’s sometimes hard to imagine it will ever be done.

So when I’m writing a first draft, I like to set myself targets. When writing is tough, I aim for only 200 new words a day. On good days, I can get 500 to 1500 new words, although 200 words a day becomes 73,00 words in a year — enough for a novel! It may add up slowly but there’s usually time to write 200 words on most days. It’s also easier to keep my head in the story when I write a little bit every day, rather than a lot only once or twice a week.

I don’t have to write 200 “good” words. I let them be rough and polish them the next day because it helps me get into the next 200 words.

Here’s a good quote about getting through the first draft:

“Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something — anything — down on paper.”
— Anne Lamott (from Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)

I also have an extremely supportive writing group. There are five of us who share our writing to get constructive feedback on it, and we encourage one other when writing is tough. I know authors who have writing partners to help motivate them (they meet to write together once a week ). I tend to write alone, although I find that a writing retreat with other writers brings a fresh burst of material — as well as fabulous conversation.

Basically, I do whatever works to get that first draft down. The rewriting and polishing stages will take care of the warts.

This week, I also completed the judging of submissions for the Toronto Public Library’s Young Voices Magazine of art, poetry, and prose. I met with a team of enthusiastic teen judges on Thursday night to argue passionately for our favourites in the category of prose written by teens aged 17 to 19. The winners will be announced soon, and the launch for the 2011 magazine will be held in October. I can’t wait to see the finished product.

I also ran a memoir-writing workshop this week for fellow writer and instructor Karen Rankin, who was unable to attend her class. I was so impressed with the fascinating stories I heard and the quality of the writing. These dedicated writers are faithfully developing their craft and sharing their sometimes hilarious and sometimes harrowing real-life tales. It made me remember two things: First, everyone has interesting stories to share, if only we take the time to listen. Second, real life is often stranger than fiction, but perhaps fiction can be equally strange, if it’s told well enough to make unusual events believable.

Theme
I really liked how Linda Seger approached theme. Theme is basically the expression of the big idea of the story, and Linda suggests writers use action or movement verbs to define the theme, such as “exposing” or “discovering.” This practice implies that theme has movement from one state to another. In fact, Linda sees theme as two states in contrast to one another. For example, my new novel, The Yo-Yo Prophet, has a theme of chaos versus control, as my protagonist seeks control over the chaos of his life.

Image Systems
Linda Seger suggests that one way to express theme is through images and image systems. Of course, images can work to visually express a theme. To use my new novel as an example again, when my protagonist seeks to master his yo-yo tricks in front of an audience, he’s actually seeking control over others. (So the yo-yo becomes an image for the theme, and the failure of a yo-yo trick takes on greater significance.) If the image travels through the story in various ways and forms (becoming an image system), it can take on additional meaning.

Story Structure
I’ve examined story structure from the point of view of Syd Field, Robert McKee, John Truby, and Michael Hauge, among others, and the conclusion I’ve come to is that one needs to take the best from each method and find one’s own way. Maybe that’s not much help, but let me try to explain.

Although these story structure experts share many beliefs in common, they also disagree with and contradict one another. For example, Truby states that there is no such thing as a three-act structure, while the others base their methods on it. Absorbing the methods of these story structure experts has led me to the conclusion that there are many ways to approach story structure, and I need to consider my particular story and writing style to determine my way through the maze.

These days, I ask myself a series of questions about a story idea. These questions are based on a conglomeration of their ideas and my own, and they’re continually evolving. I find that once I answer these questions, I have a strong grasp of what I’m about to write and why. I find that it’s an  invaluable process.

Character Web
I’m becoming fond of Truby’s technique of creating a character web to develop my characters. Truby suggests writers consider how characters in a story are interconnected – how they define each other – by comparing the weaknesses, need, desire, value, status, and moral argument of each character. It’s particularly useful to consider each character in relation to the protagonist’s main moral dilemma.

I attended the workshop with fellow kidlit writers Erin Thomas, Lena Coakley, Cheryl Rainfield, Jennifer Gordon, and Urve Tamberg. To read more about the conference, check out these writers’ blog posts:

• Erin Thomas
• Lena Coakley
• Cheryl Rainfield.

I began this journey a few years ago by reading:

• Syd Field’s Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting (A Step-by-Step Guide from Concept to Finished Script).
• Robert McKee’s Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. (I also attended his gruelling and insightful three-day Story seminar.)
• John Truby’s The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller.

One thing these three writers share – besides a fondness for long book titles – is a keen insight into how structure applies to writing a successful story. I applied many of their insights when writing and revising my latest young-adult novel, The Yo-Yo Prophet, to be published by Orca Books this Fall, and I believe it’s a better book as a result.

And yet the Screenwriters Summit Toronto took this learning even further. Here’s a very quick overview of the speakers and topics:

• Screenwriting consultant Linda Seger talked about deepening a story through theme and creating a more cinematic story through image systems.
• Screenwriting instructor John Truby detailed his seven steps to a great premise and the variations of deep structure.
• Screenwriting guru Syd Field discussed the setup of character and story.
• Screenwriting coach Michael Hauge explained how to turn plot structure from a complicated concept into a simple, powerful tool to apply to story.

Today, my brain seems to be firing all synapses in order to process the varied and sometimes conflicting techniques and opinions presented at the Summit. I’m sure it will take me a while to sort through which insights best speak to my personal writing technique and determine how to apply these insights to my next novel, but I’m certain the process will nudge me further down the path of becoming a master storyteller. A lofty goal, I know, and not one that can be easily measured or even achieved. But at least I’m enjoying the journey.

Note: You can read my follow-up post about the Summit here.

• access my intuitive side.
• explore new writing styles and techniques.
• discover new directions for a work-in-progress.

There are so many ways to play with words. You can:

• write from an object (for example, a cannonball in a museum or a colourful box of pastels).
• begin with a sentence (for example, “The noise grew louder when he opened the door”).
• write from an illustration or photo (for example, Steve McCurry’s portraits).

For more ideas about how to play with words, go to my WordPlay page.

When we ask ourselves “what-if” questions, we can imagine whole new worlds, new ways of living, and unique characters who are dealing with unusual circumstances.

When I wrote Pure, I began by asking:

• What if parents could genetically choose a child — ensure she grew up unusually smart, healthy, or attractive?
• How would a teenager react to the news that her parents had genetically enhanced her?
• What if that genetic enhancement came with unexpected physical and social consequences?

This technique is particularly useful for imagining fantasy and science fiction stories.

What if men could have babies too? How would it change our society?

What if we could alter our skin colour just by thinking about it?

What if Native Americans had not signed treaties with the settlers, and the settlers had adopted Native ways instead?

The possibilities are endless.

Children’s fantasy writer Jane Yolen writes, “Surely one of the great things about fantasy literature is that we can be transported to worlds we do not know. We can wear skins that are not ours. We can look at the landscape through someone else’s eyes.”

Wherever you go and whatever you do, you are a writer. You can gather material from every aspect of your life. Every moment is an opportunity to fill your creative well.

I have been in trying circumstances and said to myself, “Maybe I can write about this later.” It consoles me when things are tough, and inspires me to try out new experiences.

So I suggest you eavesdrop on people sitting at the next table in a restaurant, or at a bus stop, or at work or school. Observe how your body reacts when you feel angry, sad, happy, and so on. Make note of sensory experiences (sight, sound, taste, touch, smell) so you can use them in your writing.

Write down your observations. Borrow shamelessly from life around you. Let life inspire your writing.

In a later post, I’ll explore how to write by asking “what-if” questions.

Ask yourself what moments from your childhood stand out for you? Which ones can you recall in vivid detail, which stories did your parents repeat to you over and over, which ones were the most terrifying or the most exhilarating? When you find a moment with energy, write it down. It may not become a story right away. It may begin as an anecdote. But collect these anecdotes until you begin to find the links and connections that will pull them into a story.

You may want to fictionalize personal experience, combining real events with imagination to make a story. I used this technique in Take the Stairs, which is based on personal experiences I had as a teen as well as those of people around me. Or, you may want to retain the flavour of actual events, using real names and places, like in a memoir. Either way, you’re looking to arrange reality into a story.

Here’s a quote from Alice Munro that I like: “Anecdotes don’t make good stories. Generally I dig down underneath them so far that the story that finally comes out is not what people thought their anecdotes were about.”

In later posts, I’ll explore how to write by observing people and by asking “what-if” questions.

This Saturday, I conducted a series of writing games for nine-year-old Saskia and 19 of her friends. As the guests entered Saskia’s home, they were greeted by the words “Creativity World” written in 12 different languages. Together, we played games with words – creating evil villains, writing using masks, and using “story dice” to tell stories as a group. I enjoyed getting a glimpse into the creative worlds of these girls. Saskia and her friends are fine writers.

It was an intriguing idea for a birthday party – one that I would have enjoyed when I was a kid. Heck, I’d even enjoy it now!

It’s amazing how fast the time goes when writing. Three days are over in a blink. Writing a novel is such a time-intensive pursuit, while an eager reader can devour that effort in mere hours.

What’s great about a retreat is simply having the quiet, empty space to ponder characters and to delve deeper into who they are, what drives them, what irks them, what moments will change their lives. And these characters do live. There’s no mistaking it. They come to life in quiet writerly moments, and they continue to thrive in the minds of readers.

I prefer to write for ages 8 to 18 because it’s a rich time of life that is full of so many ups and downs, trials and victories. The teenage years in particular are ripe with possibilities for conflict, which is central to any story.

I do want to point out that writing for kids and teens is not easier than writing for adults. And it’s not about teaching them a lesson.

People who write for kids and teens typically adore stories, respect children of all ages, and have child-like voices inside them that cannot be silenced.

1. Ask yourself what is the problem? State it clearly. Write it down.
2. Ask yourself what information, if any, you need to solve the problem. Do the necessary research.
3. Wait for the answer, and trust that it will come. Try not to think about it. Go on to other tasks (menial tasks work well).

This technique may sound too simple, but the hardest part is trusting that it will work. Our subconscious minds are powerful tools. How often I forget to use it.