Snippet on Writing

By Lonnie Whitaker

            First I had to learn something about the craft of writing.  What I learned in school—long pretty sentences laced with modifiers—was too wordy for commercial fiction.  Strong verbs needed to replace some of the adjectives and adverbs.  Karl Largent, a techno-thriller author I met at the Midwest Writers Workshop said, “Never have your protagonist running quickly when he could be sprinting.”  As a reminder, my business card has a quotation from Mark Twain: “When you catch an adjective, kill it.”  I learned (and continue to learn) by taking workshop classes, going to conferences, joining writers’ groups, and reading books on writing.  Here are a few I still refer to: How to Write and Sell Your Novel (Karl Largent), On Writing (Stephen King), The War of Art (Steven Pressfield), The Elements of Style (Strunk and White), Webster’s New World College Dictionary, and The Synonym Finder (J.I. Rodale).

            To outline or not is a fundamental debate among fiction writers.  Largent in general thinks you should; King, not so much.  Curtis Parkinson, a well-published young adult fiction author, told me, with some energy, that outlining would “take all the fun out of it.”  I am not an outliner.  My outlines are battle plans with symbols and diagrams scribbled on napkins or scraps of paper that will take me through a scene or several chapters.  The creative process or, I believe, my Muse will fill in the blanks--too much structure can be confining for her.  It’s how I imagine the creative process of potters to work.  They start out with a lump of clay with the idea that they will make a vase, but the humidity, ambient temperature, and their instincts dictate that the lump become a coffee cup—a really fine coffee cup—that would not have happened if they had rigidly insisted on the clay being a vase.

            I make notes of my ideas whenever they occur—anytime, anyplace.  Otherwise I might not remember the thought exactly that same way.  When I jot them down later, I always wonder if I got it just the way that had seemed so perfect.  For example, I was on my exercise bike and looked outside at the red buds of an azalea bush just about to open and thought: little hearts opening to God.  That phrase became the title of Chapter 16 of Geese to a Poor Market and was uttered by one of the characters.

            My best writing time is shortly after I wake up.  In the first hour or two in the morning I have clarity and focus that enables me to solve problems that previously baffled me, and I’m able to cover ground that might otherwise take an afternoon.  Afternoons are better for the mundane chores of writing—research, organizing, and finding stuff that I misplaced.  For two hours in the evening after dinner is my second best time.  After exercising is always a good time. 

Here’s a secret that I learned from a house painter: Always leave a wet edge.  Applied to writing it means, when you end a writing session, stop in the middle of a scene.  That way when you come back to the writing, you won’t waste time getting started.  It’s leaving the pump primed. 

            About my writer’s place—BTW, it’s not always this neat.  It’s located in the lower level of my house.  It has sufficient lighting, a couch I can lie down on for a five-minute power nap, and an L-shaped countertop with space for writing and room for a 17-inch PC screen and two printers.  A double-window provides a view of woods that comes to within 30 feet of the house.  And the walls are covered with things that make me smile. 

Meet Lonnie Whitaker. Lonnie came to High Hill Press some time ago with a book that we couldn't turn down. It's a literary novel set in the Ozarks, populated with characters and locations that remind this editor of the classics written about the South by Flannery O'Connor and Eudora Welty. Geese to a Poor Market will be out by the end of August, 2010 and I'm sure it will make many a reader happy. Especially those who are looking to get back to what storytelling and writing is all about.