It’s about a teddy bear who has willed himself to live only to be arrested for being the most heinous terrorist mastermind.   Yes, really.  As the official website says:

Emotionally gripping and intellectually compelling, Winkie introduces the most memorable protagonist since the Velveteen Rabbit, and—with the help of a lesbian Moslem cleaning woman, a stuttering attorney, and a Lacan-spewing bear cub—brilliantly exposes the cruel absurdities of our age and explores what it means to be human in an increasingly barbaric world.

It’s a strange book.  I loved it.  Mostly I wondered what sort of creative bravery it took to write it and to believe that it had a chance in hell of getting published.  If I had an idea like this I would never, ever believe it would see the light of day at a publishing house.

I would love to have seen the face of the agents/editors who first saw this thing.  How many times (if any?) was it rejected?  Who had the guts to buy it and what made the risk worth taking?  Kudos to those visionaries.

This, of course, reveals a great deal about my own writing life–particularly the stuff I don’t write.  I’ve often thought that’s a problem.  Now that I see it written out like this, I feel that more strongly than ever.  I need to write my winkies too!  Even if I don’t think there’s a chance they’ll ever get published.  I should let the world decide that, not me.

Hm.  Quite a little pep talk for myself.  What do you think?  Do you guys give yourselves pep talks?  Do you writers out there write your winkies?

I rather like that phrase, that call to arms:  WRITE YOUR WINKIES!

I wonder if Chase would mind?

I like to read more than one book at a time.  Unless it’s fiction.  I can only read one novel at a time, but I can have several nonfiction books, art books, books on creativity going at once.  They all mix in my head in terrific ways.  And for the last several weeks, even as I’ve been looking at my other Spring Breezes books on writing, I’ve had the great pleasure of looking at Lynda Barry’s What It Is (Drawn and Quarterly 2008).

“Looking at” describes the experience more than “reading.”  Perhaps “absorbing” is an even better word for my relationship with this book.  It’s almost indescribable.  Barry does with images–collage, painting, lettering–what we normally see people trying to do with words.  She wonders about things like memory and creativity and what images are and where it all comes from within us.  She gives terrific lessons for how to write in more effective and meaningful ways.  And she gives it to you through your right brain.

I felt the book moved through three basic parts:  her musings on the big ideas behind creativity of all kinds, her writing instruction, and a section reproducing some of her notes from her own writing process. 

Some years ago (how many?  I can’t remember!) I had the great experience of taking a one-day workshop with her and it changed my writing forever.  I use a technique or two I learned from her at some point in nearly every workshop I lead.  If you ever have a chance to take a class with her,  do it!  In the meantime, check out this book.

I’m no fashionista.  I thrive in jeans and a corduroy shirt.  So when I find out I have to look really good at a fancy event, I have a little panic.  If it’s late at night, it might turn into a big panic.  I’m already sweating out what I’m going to wear to the Lambda Literary Awards at the end of May.

Well, actually, to be more accurate, I know what I’m going to wear.  I have a great outfit.  I bought new shoes this weekend.  That’s not the trouble.  The trouble is that my fashion-consultant entourage (read:  my mother, my sister, and my ex-model friend) tell me I must carry a purse.  An evening bag.  A clutch.

I believe in pockets.  Hands should be free to function.  A clutch seems like a ridiculous waste of a hand for a whole evening.  “Can’t I get something to sling over my shoulder?” I ask.

They screw up their faces.  “Like what?  A backpack?”

“Well . . . “  I draw the word out.

“NO!”  They are not equivocal on this.

So a clutch it is.  But I won’t spend a lot on it.  I trawled through TJ Maxx this weekend.  My God, purses are funny.  I don’t think I’ve ever really looked at a purse aisle.  The colors!  The shapes!  The prices!  I can’t wait to write a scene about purse-shopping into a novel.

But my sister came through and loaned me four clutches from her extensive collection.  I’m to dress and practice moving around with each and then pick the one that works. 

I’ve got my work cut out for me.  Thank heavens I already have the shoes.

I’m feeling technologically triumphant this morning, as I figured out how to download a Wordpress theme and get it up onto my blog.  I know, I know–many young people could do this while playing World of Warcraft and Twittering (or is it Tweeting?) and texting and doing homework at the same time.  But I’m over forty.  This is a triumph!

And in a few minutes I have a phone meeting with my new editor at Bella–so far so good on the production process for the next Lonnie Squires mystery, TOASTED.

It’s a good Tuesday.

Happy Monday.

I’m still working on the design of the blog.  Forgive the WordPress default.  But here’s some fun writing info to make up for it.

In honor of spring, I decided to do throw the windows wide and let in some new, fresh air to circulate with the familiar furniture of my imagination.  So for the next few weeks, I’m going to read a few books on writing that don’t look like the sort of thing I’d normally pick up.  For instance, no books on story structure for the next two months, since I love that stuff and read it all the time.  No, I want to bring in something different.  Then I thought I’d share what I read, and the good things I learned, with you.  Not book reviews, really.  More about sharing the good breezes . . .

So, for starters, last weekend I picked up Kenneth Atchity’s A Writer’s Time. Revised Edition. NY: Norton, 1995. Atchity himself is an interesting resource for writers and other creative people; his blog is worth a look.  Anyhow, this is a book for writer’s on time management.  Not what I’d usually read–time management . . .  which would make sense if you watched me go through a day wasting time!

Anyhow, I gotta admit that Atchity’s approach to writing projects really grabbed my imagination.  As you might imagine, the book spells out a clear working calendar for projects of any length and gives great tips for staying on task in manageable daily chunks.  But what really captured my attention was his emphasis on pre-writing using index cards.  That might sound awful to many of you (it does to me too, since I’m a discover-as-I-go first drafter), but this is just what I was looking for!  New breezes!!

Atchity says that when he teaches, he doesn’t let his students write a word on their papers until they have accumulated enough index cards of ideas (and research if needed) to write the entire work.  He encourages them to gather more than they need to allow for flexibility.  Then when they sit down to write, they never face a blank page.  Your working calendar develops from your deadline and targeted manuscript length.  You write through only the number of cards you need to on any one day to stay on task, thus avoiding burnout.  And best of all–he balances work with “vacation” time so that the writer’s creative well is constantly being refilled.  Check out the book for the interesting details.

This reminded me a lot of the index card for pre-writing method I remember reading in Elizabeth George’s Write Away some years ago.

I decided to give it a try, as I had a short article I needed to write for a workshop project.  So instead of opening my word processor, I gathered the number of index cards I figured I’d need for a 1000 word essay plus a few extra ideas.  And I walked around jotting ideas, one per card, for a few days.  I fussed with those cards off and on all the time, even jotting something at red lights.  Rearranged while eating breakfast.  Looked up a quote or two.

My biggest surprise:  I loved the tactile aspects of manipulating ideas.  That really engaged my brain in a new way. 

Anyhow, I wrote the article on time and I think it was richer than it might have been.  I liked the method though I’m skeptical about how well I’d do with it when writing a novel.  Still, I might give it a whirl sometime.