BENEFITS FROM WRITERS CONFERENCES/RETREATS

Finished the chapter - polished and re-written 'til I'm blue in the face (like the corpse). But I've come to realize I would never have thought of this "new" first chapter without having gone to the retreat, without having been in that particular workshop, without having had the benefit of learning from an experience and published writer in a related genre.

There is just so much a writer can learn from reading "teaching" books, articles, email blogs, etc. Sometimes you just have to invest in being where the professionals are, making contacts with those who've walked the path ahead of you, creating networks that include people who will generously share their knowledge and will extend even more of that knowledge once you have gone home and are plodding along.

Courage and hard work are part of the journey. Writers Groups and then Friends in the Biz help, too. Always remember to say "Thank You" to those who extend a hand and the offer of helpful suggestions even when, at first, you think "I thought it was done. Oh, boggers!"

LIFE'S NOT EASY - NEITHER IS DYING

If you read the prior post, you know I am trying to write a challenging chapter. Challenging on several planes - for several reasons. Distractions come easily. At some points I welcome them. Like now. So I look out the office window at the beautiful blue sky with only a few white cotton ball clouds. The sun sparkles off the water that moves from west to east (for the moment. The current changes as easily as my nerves lately.). Fall has arrives in this part of the state and the largest oak tree along the shoreline has finally caught up, the leaves at the top a bright rusty gold while mid-way down they are still green. The pine tree across to its left is its ever-present green but dropping needles, I know.

I can see the trees on the opposite side of the shore, a rainbow of reds, oranges, yellows and greens both bright and dark. All the summer docks have been pulled up. There are no boats zipping, no jet skis skipping, no motor sounds. The water is quiet except of the wind. It has been windy this past week. Everything from blow-the-house-down windy to just breezy enough to blow down the leaves and send them bouncing across the lawn. "Just keep right on and into the woods," I urge from my spot. I have no time or desire to be raking. I am suppose to be killing my victim.

But I wrote this first draft some time ago. But it aside to mellow and not it is going into the fire of review and rewrite through the writers group. A NEW first Chapter I had not planned on, but there it is on my "to do list" along with some ironing that has been waiting nearly a month. And the large driveway garden that needs to be cleared for the removal of TONS of iris rhizomes. I couldn't remove them last Spring so I vowed to get rid of them this Fall. Must be done, even if it takes an ax to get the job done. (Hate those irises - ugly color.)

See? There are so many ways to avoid doing what must be done. I've completed the research. Have the dialogue. Know how the "device works. It's just the "getting to it" that keeps getting in the way.

It will be done, I know. It's just that she's such a nice person. And she's had a hard time of things. She thought life was just about to get better. It was all in the business of trusting and betrayal. Bad choices, poor thing.

STARTING WITH A "BANG"

Today I have to be in a "killing" mood. Sorry. That's just the way it is.

Good thing it's rainy and windy outside. Don't think a bird would have a chance holding its own. Even the squirrels and chipmunks have gone to ground.

The water is churning on the lake. Not a duck or loon in sight.

Perfect day to write a thriller scene - an entire chapter if I can stay in that place I have to go - see and feel what must be seen and felt. It may take days. For sure, there is no music playing in the background, not even the soft jazz I usually have muted to keep me company. No. Murder needs no company.

The opening of the book was never planned to be this way. But it seems the logical way. Even though, to be honest, it gives me the creeps.

I know the method. I know the killer. I know his motive. And I know the victim. I know them all too well. And because I know this killer I admit he scares me, even though I am the writer. Even though he is "fictionalized", he's based on others who are/were real. And I do not know for sure they are now dead. Murderers don't always see a court room, and even when they do they're not always sentenced to death row, and even then... Well, you know the reality of death row. Don't we all. Well, except in Texas maybe.

Remember, I just came back from the Writers Retreat where I read from the opening chapter of my novel-in-progress. The entire chapter was read in the workshop I attended. Got fairly good reviews actually. But then the workshop leader, Patrick Quinlan, published writer of thrillers, said words to the effect, "You need to capture the reader, the publisher, with a bang. Grab them by the throat. Show your victim being killed in the first chapter."

Then during a break, in a one-on-one, once I had the opportunity to outline the entire plot and characters in the book, he was even more emphatic.

And he was right!

It has now been four days and a long drive home that I have danced around this. Danced up close to it and then backed away. Do all mystery/police procedural writers dance this way when they have to go back into Hell? I don't know. I just know I have. Because I know that is where I have to go. Again.

Today is a killing day.

MAINE WRITERS & PUBLISHERS ALLIANCE FALL RETREAT

This past weekend was the 2010 Fall Writers Retreat sponsored and conducted by the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance (MWPA) out of Portland, Maine. The setting was gorgeous. Never having been to Boothbay Harbor before, I have to admit it is a postcard advertisement for coastal Maine. And the staff at the Liniken Resort provided food not only fit for kings and queens, but courtesy and accommodations beyond anything the concept of a retreat could hope for.

There were different two-day workshops in the mornings for the many genre of writers in attendance, in addition to three special seminars on Saturday afternoon. On both Friday and Saturday evening, members of the Retreat staff and MWPA Board read from their works-in-progress or various published work. These included poetry, novels and short stories. Patrick Quinlan, published thriller novelist - and the leader of the workshop I attended - also read a piece he recently finished following his trip to China. It haunted me later through the night. While some might considered it "thriller" material, it is pure non-fiction. While it is not entertaining in the truest sense, in this writer's opinion, it needs to be published.

Of course, by the time I arrived home late Sunday afternoon, I was exhausted. Brain drain mostly. The three-hour drive home was nothing compared to the five-hour drive to get there in torrential rain with white-out back splash from vehicles in front of me on the highway - many of which did not have their headlights on while windshield wipers were going at full speed. True, it was in full daylight and those drivers didn't need their headlights to see where they were going, but those of us behind them needed to be able to see their taillights to see their cars through the white-out of water and the planing that was a threat to all of us. Stress is a word that doesn't begin to describe the environment for the middle two hours of that trip.

There is a lot I have brought home to my writing environment from the Retreat - nice people, generous writers all, encouragement shared roundly, new and creative ideas, tender thoughts put to paper, friendships nurtured, laughter, information and the bountiful knowledge gained from steps other have walked that may reduce the bumps and bruises for others in their wake.

It was a gift of many layers given to me. Many thanks are due.