11.09.09
Posted in General at 10:06 pm by Susan Tuttle
We all know how important the first page of any piece of writing is. The first page must contain a strong opening, establish the setting, foster an emotional investment in the characters, use language creatively, set up a problem or conflict (tension), be organized and flow smoothly, and contain a “wow” factor that keeps readers reading on. First pages are not for the faint of heart.
But neither are endings. The last page is just as important as the first, because it has to bring together all the disparate pieces of the work into a satisfying conclusion, while referring back to the issues raised on that scary first page. It’s a full-circle kind of thing, like the snake of eternity that coils around and devours its own tail. (Even the visuals take courage to face!)
As writers, we are lucky. We get to play with the worlds we create to make sure they conform to whatever “rules” we choose to apply. Leaving on a plane at 3:00 pm doesn’t work? Fine, just change it to a bus at midnight. Something new pops up in chapter thirty-one? No problem; go back and sprinkle hints of it in earlier chapters and the problem is solved. Quite often we start a story, knowing exactly where we need it to go, then it takes us by the hand and shows us where it’s going to go, whether we like it or not. As we write, our characters become real and our worlds gain a measure of existence outside the confines of our minds. But it’s a malleable reality, one we have the option of changing at will. And what fun it is to do so.
But life isn’t like that. When something happens, it happens. There are no do-overs. Beginnings in life don’t always have well-set scenes, character development, plot elements, tension or the “hook” that makes you want to keep on going. On the contrary, all too often life’s beginnings are messy, confusing and just plain boring, though some are bright, straightforward and exciting. But life’s endings are hard, fraught with sorrow and fear. They don’t feel like a well-structured wrap-up. They feel like loss and emptiness. And we can’t go back and erase things, or adjust events. Life is not malleable the way fiction is. It simply is life. It happens, we live through it, and if we’re lucky, we learn something valuable about ourselves and others along the way.
My brother, who died in 1972 at the age of twenty-one, wrote the following piece of philosophy. I didn’t find it until I was going through my mother’s things in September, when I went back east for her funeral. It amazed me that at such a young age he had such wisdom. I wish I’d known; I feel like I’ve lost even more than I did when he died. (See what I mean about life’s endings? That was a forty-two year-old hanging thread! You certainly couldn’t leave it dangling like that in fiction—and wouldn’t want to.) But I realized his advice works both in life and in our writing. It’s all about endings and beginnings, and where the real truth of it all lies.
“The end is always a beginning. If an end becomes an end, you are not only refuting the nature of man, but you are also subjecting man to be dominated by history, which has no right to be the domineering force. Man can never be an end in himself, he must be the beginning for another person.” Edward Latchford Tuttle, Jr.
May all your endings be wonderful new beginnings, in life and in your writing.
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09.30.09
Posted in General at 8:47 pm by Susan Tuttle
Always hone your skills to the best they can be. You never know when they will be needed, or what direction they may take you in, if only you are prepared to sieze the opportunity.
My mother asked me, a couple of years ago, to write a song for her funeral, a song of hope and joy instead of the usual dirge of sorrow which she hated. It took me aback; I’d never written a song “to order” before, didn’t know if I could. But I’d been singing in church for a couple of years, and at the time spiritual songs kept popping into my head. I’d sing them into a tape recorder and try to write them down later.
Not with much success, I admit; I can’t read music, much less write out a full score (or whatever it’s called). I put down one note at a time, no chords, and struggle with those sharps and flats. And I haven’t a clue about measures, timing, or what the bass clef is for. Even so, when songs knocked on my head, I opened the door and let them in.
An now Mom had started me thinking, and writing, and a few days later this song was finished. When I sang it to her, Mom loved it. And I learned that all the work I’ve been putting into improving my writing skills (and my confidence) let me take this wonderful opportunity and make something beautiful of it.
I got to sing it for her one last time today. Thanks, Mom, for sending me in a direction I’d never have gone on my own. As I said in church today, this one is for you…
I’VE GONE HOME
(words and music by Susan Tuttle)
I am a child of hope and peace,
Part of the Master Plan.
I was sent to earth to learn to love,
And to share my heart and hand.
Now I’ve gone home, I’ve gone home,
Let the trumpet sound, call the victory,
For God was waiting there for me.
Made in His image, body and soul,
I lived and learned and grew.
Though I failed at times to follow His way,
Somehow I always knew,
That I’d go home, I’d go home,
Where my Father stands, radiantly
Waiting patiently for me.
God tested me throughout my life,
Some lessons hard to bear;
Still I walked the road in trust and faith,
For I knew my God was there,
Saying, you’ll come home, someday you’ll come home,
There’ll be joy and praise and angel song,
For you’ll be back where you belong.
God graced my soul with love and joy,
And He danced on the night I was born,
Then He sent His angels to watch over me.
There is nothing here to mourn.
For I’ve gone home, I’ve gone home,
Let the glory ring from place to place,
For I am safe in His embrace.
Though it’s hard, I know, for you who stay,
Upon this world of strife,
Take comfort in the love we shared,
And celebrate my life.
You know that I’ve gone home, I’ve gone home,
And when the day has come that your journey’s through
I will be waiting there for you.
Yes, I’ve gone home, I’ve gone home,
And with my God I stand, hand in hand,
Waiting patiently for you.
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09.23.09
Posted in General at 4:16 pm by Susan Tuttle
It has always been my belief and contention that writers have an obligation not only to entertain readers, but also to educate them. That premise is obvious in non-fiction, which by its very nature is based on facts, most of which are not known to the reading audience—else why bother to write the piece in the first place? But in fiction, entertaining the reader seems to have taken precedence over educating them, especially in this short-attention-span, digital age.
There are many ways to educate readers while still telling a fascinating and gripping story. One of the more overt is to make sure that your technical skills in the English language are, as the British would say, spot on. A so-so writer can tell a readable story even when unknowingly killing some of the basic rules of sentence structure and punctuation (though discerning readers might have some trouble getting all the way through the story). A good writer can do the same while adhering to all the rules, which makes it a better read. A great writer lifts the story to the next plateau by using some judicious and creative manipulation of the language; ie, still breaking a few rules, but at least knowing why they need to be broken. And inspired writers make their prose sing while still adhering to all the rules, actually using the rules to slingshot their work out into the stratosphere.
But one of my favorite ways to educate readers is to sprinkle a few “big words” into the body of my work, words that may not be familiar to most readers. I like to think I’m helping to stretch their vocabulary and add depth to their life experience.
Maybe it’s my own little quirk—I am a self-professed word-monger with an extensive vocabulary of my own—but I love to come away from a wonderful story knowing I’ve gotten more than enjoyment from it, more even than a better understanding of people and life. I’ve learned a new word that someday I may be able to attach to an event or feeling in my own life. My experience of living has expanded. I feel broadened, more open. Heck, I feel smart! It’s absolutely exhilarating.
Often writers will be told not to use words readers don’t already know, but if a writer has a fairly comprehensive vocabulary why should he or she have to “dumb down” in order to write for the public? Huntington Beach, California, resident Elizabeth George, writes the very successful British Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley series. She has a vocabulary of awesome scope; I found thirteen words I didn’t know in Missing Joseph, that run the gamut from acclivity to tenebrous.
Part of the tingle I get when I read her well-crafted, expertly-written mystery novels comes from knowing I will need to have a dictionary at my side (and not an abridged one!). As I read I learn new ways of looking at people, places, things and events, because synonyms do not have identical meanings any more than all grapes taste the same. Each new synonym adds its own piquant nuance to the total essence of a description, a scene, a character’s outlook, the meaning of life itself. And Ms. George sprinkles these little iridescent nuggets into her narrative like priceless pearls, for the titillation and edification of the discerning reader. And, hopefully, to increase discernment in the average reader. To lift the reader a little higher.
Don’t ever be afraid to ask your reading audience to scale the mountain with you. Most of them will come along for the ride, as long as you tell a compelling, inspiring story that takes hold and won’t let go. And if they learn a few new words along the way, they’ll be all the better for it.
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09.07.09
Posted in General at 2:19 pm by Susan Tuttle
An act of faith. When we step out into any arena, no matter how familiar or uncomfortable, we commit an act of faith.
When I moved out here to California, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’ve never been an especially brave person, but somehow packing up my possessions, hopping in the car and driving to an unknown destination had the feel of urgency about it. I called my mother and asked her if she’d like to venture across the country with me. We had a wonderful two weeks of following where our hearts led, stopping wherever the road widened, and re-establishing our relationship. We hit the Central Coast in late June, with nowhere for me to stay, no job and no prospects. An act of faith.
It occurs to me now that most of the things we do in life, whether we know it or not, are acts of faith. The big, really scary ones we recognize. But the little everyday risks we often don’t acknowledge as true acts of faith. They’re just something that we do because, for some reason or another, we must.
Think about writing, for example. The entire process, from inception to completion, is a series of small acts of faith that culminate in a product that is larger than its component parts. What else but an act of faith would convince anyone that a tiny seed of an idea could sprout and grow into an article, a story, a novel, a memoir or non-fiction volume? What other than acts of faith that build one upon another could sustain a writer through the torturous process of ideating, writing, revising, researching and rewriting again and again?
In my experience, the freshness and the wonder in any literary work is directly related to the amount of faith needed to underpin the writing. The newer the territory, the more unfamiliar the genre or subject matter, the more inspiring is the act of faith. It takes less faith to re-create the known past than to step out into the unknown future. That’s why the first in a series of anything, fiction or nonfiction, is often the most compelling to the reader. The joy of discovery, the awe of a newly unfolding process, the wonder of learning permeates every sentence, phrase and word, and carries the reader along on the journey.
So, I challenge you all. Make this your autumn of faith. Step out into the unknown; trust your insight, your skill and your talent to take you to a place you’ve never before visited. Seek the wonder and expand your horizons. Listen to your inner spirit, to the soft whisper urging new exploration. Dare to dream. Spread your wings and fly to new territory, see where the muse leads you. Then write it down. Listen to your inner spirit. It will be scary, and at first you may stumble and fall more often than you soar. But it’s worth it. You’ll be initiating an act of faith that will start a chain reaction within you. It could lift your writing to another level altogether. Or you might discover a talent for an area you’ve never before explored. At the very least you’ll go back to familiar territory with renewed confidence and a sense of pride for taking a risk.
All your dreams for the future begin here, now, with a writing act of faith. It’s the wellspring from which all literary miracles flow.
Step out and write.
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02.22.09
Posted in General at 9:30 pm by Susan Tuttle
It’s a fact: Writers who work with a critique and editing service are more successful than those who work with no editorial supervision. Novels, short stories, essays, newsletters, term papers, dissertations, non-fiction books, magazine articles, advertising copy, technical writing, ghostwriting, blogs, self-publishing – these and more all stand to benefit. No matter what level you are on, no matter how sophisticated your manuscript or how successful you are, you need an editor to fine-tooth-comb your finished product. Every writer whose goal is publication – or continued publication – needs a good editor.
Send me your first two pages of you book-length work, or the first page of your story (or article, paper, etc.) and let me show you how I can polish them for you – at no charge. Let me show you how great editing can get you closer to your goal: your story, article, ad copy, newsletter, book or novel in printed form.
As Patricia Highsmith states, “The secret of success in writing is individuality.”
Individuality means you need a strong, unique voice that radiates through tight compelling composition. With an amazing amount of competition in the writing world, what rises to the top? Perfect spelling, punctuation, and grammar; fluid sentence structure and transitions; mesmerizing plots filled with stunning twists and peopled with fascinating characters; all presented in a fresh, consistent style that makes editors and readers alike demand more.
Show the world your best. Give yourself the gift of a great editor.
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