Magical Words

Have you ever read the bios that writers publish in their work?  Granted you don’t usually get to see the early job histories of your lawyer, your massage therapist or your English teacher, but it seems that writers take on some wacky jobs before they finally get published.  I don’t necessarily mean jobs that seem like they belong n a book - sometimes it’s just jobs that sound so far removed from a writing career that one has to wonder what drove the writer to even take it in the first place.  I’ve dipped ice cream, waited tables in a deli, taught math to migrant children who spoke mostly Haitian French, run a video store that we all believed was a front for money laundering, and waited tables in a Mexican restaurant that specialized in drenching everything with nacho-flavored Velveeta and paid me under the table.  I cold-called businesses to try and convince them they needed more equipment and they should lease it through our company (by far, the worst job.)  I spent a year manning the Service Desk in a mall bookstore, where I had to assist people who wanted me to tell them where “that blue book I saw on the Today Show back in the winter” might be, then moved to a college bookstore, where I had to assist professors who wanted “that blue book we saw at a conference last summer.”  I taught three-year-olds for over a decade, and finally landed in the middle school library (where the children are almost exactly the same, except for being taller.)

In every job, I was able to observe people doing all the weird, kind, tragic, hopeful, selfish, silly, bizarre things they do.  All those idiosyncrasies come from the real-time research of people-watching, and I can now use them all when creating characters in my work.  Writing is a solitary life, so having the chance to see real people behaving in all the irrational ways they do can only imbue my fiction with a reality I wouldn’t have otherwise.  As hard as some of those jobs made me work, I wouldn’t change a thing.

But I tell you, if I can go the rest of my life without smelling cheap nacho Velveeta again, that’d be just dandy.

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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Last night I was talking to a friend who is reading my book.  She told me it’s been a little bizarre reading because she knows me…or thought she did.  “You write sword fights!  And describe people being wounded as if you know how it feels!” she said.  “How do you figure all that out?”  I explained that having a cooperative husband who’ll block fight scenes with me helps, but she shook her head.  “No, it’s just that I realize you’re not quite who I thought you were.”  This friend only knows me from dance, where I am joyful and energetic.  So of course it might be a bit daunting to recognize that I might have a darker side, one that knows how injuries feel, how enticing vengeance can be and what betrayal looks like.   I’ve run into the same thing with coworkers, who read the book and suddenly look at me as if they’re trying to find the no-nonsense, efficient librarian whose body I’ve obviously taken over.

It’s still me.  I’m still cheerful in the morning, madly in love with my husband and determined to find the magic I believe is out there.  I’m a good daughter, a loving mother, a faithful friend.  I experience deep anger and irrational jealousy.  I laugh easily.   I’m afraid of heavy winds but I love a good thunderstorm.  I write so I can travel to places that exist nowhere but my imagination and I dance in order to free my body and  connect to the numinous, that something ‘other’ that makes the ordinary into the extraordinary.  So I wrote something that startled you, something that a nice lady like me shouldn’t know about?  Better just take a deep breath and keep reading.  ‘Cause this is what I do.

This is who I am.

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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Yesterday Faith talked about how to approach an agent … and how not to. The same advice goes for approaching a published writer for help. Ever since “Mad Kestrel” hit the shelves, I’ve been receiving emails from nice people very politely asking me to help them. People I do not know.

Before I was published, I was lucky to have the guidance of a published author, Faith Hunter. We met when I joined the writing group she also belonged to. She encouraged me to try writing a novel when all I’d done up to that point was short fiction. She was constructively brutal when I needed it, supportive and kind when I was suffering. She took me under her wing because she believed in me. And she believed in me because she’d had time to get to know me and my writing.

I’ve had complete strangers offer to send me their novels. (If y’all could only see the stack of published books I haven’t read yet!) I’ve had people attach their novels to the email requesting I read them. (One lady, when I told her there were liabilities to me doing that, promised very sincerely that she’d never tell. Uh huh.) I’ve had people offer me ideas if I do the writing. (If only they knew how long it takes me to write the ideas I have now!) I remember how hard it was to write a whole novel the first time. The anguish of rejections, the stress of not knowing what comes next, the worry over whether I’d ever get an agent to represent me - those are all still very fresh in my mind. And who knows, one of those nice people might be the next J K Rowling, and I could discover her! I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t enticing.

But here’s the thing…I’m a writer first. I’m not the one who’ll spend her time showing editors your work, nor can I buy your novel from you. All I could do is look at it and tell you what works and what doesn’t. While I’m doing that for you, I’m not writing MY book. If it comes to my book or yours competing for my attention, mine is going to win. Especially if I’ve never even met you before. Yes, a published author helped me. I let her get to know me first, get to know that I meant what I said, that I could do the work myself and that I was willing to tough it out. In J K Holmes’ interview last Friday, she mentioned that she’d had the assistance of writer Carolyn Haines, but once again, that help came because they had a personal relationship, and Carolyn recognized J K was ready to put her money where her mouth was.

I don’t mean to sound like a downer - we do want to help. That’s why the four of us are here - this blog is a way for all of us to pay it forward. We welcome writers’ questions here. If you run into one or more of us at a con or writing conference, we’re happy to give advice and suggestions. Write, rewrite, make your book as good as it can possibly be. Take advantage of opportunities like writing critique groups or online support forums, and if you luck onto a personal relationship with someone in the business, treat it gently.

But you’re going to have to learn the craft for yourself, the hard way. The same way we all did. That’s the big secret to getting published.

Don’t forget to stop by tomorrow for a special guest appearance from Edmund Schubert, writer, managing editor of Diversity Woman and fiction editor of Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, an online sf/fantasy ‘zine.

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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Sometimes you hear writers speak of their writing area as a sacred space, the place where all the cares of the day vanish and they are able to produce valuable, readable, entertaining and satisfying work. Most of the time, they’re talking about a corner of their bedroom or an office, the spot in their house that’s been designated for creative activity.

For me, it’s the beach. We come here once a year with my family for a week of rest and disconnection, and yet I find my mind whirling and creating with every minute I’m awake (and some while I’m sleeping - you should have SEEN the zombie dream I had last night! *shudder*) I have to carry a notebook out to the beach every day, because ideas flow like wine when I’m under the sun and listening to the surf. Not just piratey ideas, but all kinds. It’s as if an extra, unused portion of my brain has been switched on, and there’s just not enough time to write it all down. I managed two pages on Monday, nine on Tuesday, and three yesterday. That’s more than I even shoot for in a whole week during the school year!

This is my sacred space. And I really am not sure I want to come home. If I move to the beach, will y’all come visit me?

PS Don’t forget…we have a special guest here on Magical Words tomorrow - J K Holmes! And when you finish reading her fabulous interview, drop over to madkestrel.livejournal.com to see what’s going on with the zombie uprising!

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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On June 13, 2007, the blogosphere was overrun with the walking dead. Brave souls from Blogspot to LiveJournal to Wordpress risked all to post their news about the horrible events of the day. Luckily, somewhere around midnight, the zombies mysteriously dropped dead (for real this time) and the world was saved.

Well folks, June 13 is looming, looks like there’s something to worry about again. Better stock up on the emergency water, board up those windows and have your shotguns and baseball bats ready. Be safe!

Just in case the message wasn’t clear, if you happen to see blog entries next Friday that sound alarming and apocalyptic, please remember, it’s a game. Don’t panic. It’s fun. It’s a great writing exercise. It’s entirely voluntary. I, Misty, will be blogging on my individual blog, NOT HERE. The others may play or may not, as they choose.

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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It’s the last day of school.  I’ve been fielding phone calls all day from irritated mothers whose kids waited until last night to mention that “oh yeah, I can’t get my report card because I have an overdue library book I have to pay for.”  One even came in to scream at me personally.

Then there was the sixth grade mother I just got off the phone with.  Her son had lost three books back in October, to theft if one believes the boy.  (He may be telling the truth, he may not - I have no way of knowing.)  He’s known that we hold the book’s borrower responsible when books go missing, yet he’s spent most of this year denying his responsibility.  So now his mom comes along to tell me how her son is so wonderful (I’m sure he is!) and how he shouldn’t have to be held accountable, and if I continue being a wicked ogre to him, well, she just won’t let him check books out of any library ever again.

This kind of thing always throws me.  Who does the parent truly believe she is punishing?  Because it isn’t me.  Whether or not some child checks another book out of my library does not change my life at all.  His life, however, is now diminished.  He won’t be able to read anything he chooses.  He’ll be limited to reading only what his parents purchase for him.

My parents were considered somewhat progressive when I was growing up, because they never told me what I could or could not read.  They signed permission cards at the town library so that I could get books from the adult rooms.  I fell wildly in love with Poe when I was 9.  I dipped my toe into science fiction with Heinlein at 12.  I attempted to read classics like The Brothers Karamazov and Green Mansions, not that I necessarily understood them.  My parents let me choose for myself what was appropriate for me, but they also made me aware of my own responsibility in what I read and learned.

My life was enhanced by the reading I was allowed to do.  I couldn’t have asked for a more valuable gift than that.

Tags: Misty Massey by Misty Massey
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As David mentioned yesterday, he, Faith and I are appearing at ConCarolinas this weekend. Also appearing is Gail Z Martin, author of the Chronicles of the Necromancer series. Gail invited the three of us to be guests on her Ghost In The Machine podcast (have a listen - it’s about 20 minutes long), and we had a wonderful time talking about fantasy. In return, we asked her to be our guest here. So without further ado, here’s a quick chat with Gail Z Martin!

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