Revising & House Hunting

I've been away from the blogosphere for nearly a week, but if there are ever good reasons for neglecting this chalk thing I've started, I have them tucked away in my backpocket. Now I'm pulling them out and showing them to you:

1. Revising middle grade novel

2. Buying a house

REVISING:

This took five days of solid work. I mean SOLID work. I spent seven straight hours on Sunday deleting, adding, cutting, pasting, you name it, with my wife and Blondie away at the park and pool. Between teaching and family time, I don't get blocks of writing like that very often. Did I mention how much summer is the best season of the year, mainly because I get two and a half months, free of work responsibility besides reading, to do anything I want or anything that I can afford to do.

In summary, I revised the manuscript to death (with notes from a trusted reader) and fired it off to two agents who requested it. The reader was someone I was introduced to via email through one of my regular critiquers. We hit it off right away and swapped a few chapters. (Funny how you can tell if you like and trust someone or not after exchanging a few emails. Maybe a sixth sense writers have. Anyone else?) Said reader brought up some fantastic points that I took and ran with, one which gave breathing room for storylines to connect and weave together to form something that's hopefully coherent and makes sense in a small town, quirky, eerie, character-driven kind of way. With that novel sitting in the inboxes of previously mentioned agents, I can focus on my WIP (another MG novel).

This brings up the thought of how happy I am to be a writer living now. Can you imagine the time and effort of dipping the quill in and out of ink jars. Yes, there is something therapeutic and phenomenal about writing free-hand, but it takes the kind of minutes I don't have. Also, I would like to thank the entire agenting world (well, almost) for getting with the times and going green. Email. It's that good, isn't it? No post office. No standing in lines. No stamps. No licking envelopes. No tearing open envelopes. Manuscript sent from my lap, literally, with the push of a button. I embrace technology, but I still can't see myself with an e-reader or Kindle. There is something about a book, the cover, pages, spine, smell, the amount of room it takes up, that makes it special.

If the people who make Kindles can figure out a way to manufacture the smell of a new book into the keyboard or screen, I'm in.

BUYING A HOUSE:

Offer.

Counter offer.

Best and final offer.

We still don't have a house.

I don't want to talk about it.

FINALLY:

Welcome Rhonda and J.R. Pull up a chair, stay awhile, and make some chalky friends.

Rhonda, please don't take offense to BUYING A HOUSE section. You know what I'm trying to say. We're all in the same gang.

100th Post For Chalkheads

If you couldn't tell from the title, this is Crossing Chalk's 100th post. During this post, this is what I will not do:

1. Review the spongy goodness of the 99 intriguing topics I've covered thus far (except that last post - Mobile Blogging. Don't look now, but that one is a must-read)

2. Post photos that conjure "Oh, I remember that" thoughts, like Time magazine's Year In Pictures issue

3. Talk about my trip to the San Diego Zoo (which was much better and less cheesy than Sea World)

Here is what I am going to do:

Give it up to the people who keep this blog going, the newly-named CHALKHEADS (see follower box on the right). Before you take offense to being called such, realize that every blog reader secretly wants to be a CHALKHEAD and you're the lucky 13 who have crossed the finish line (see blog title picture) before them. Yes, THAT finish line. Okay, the caps lock is off limits from now on. Cheers to you and your chalky friends!

CHALKHEADS:

13. Tess (great blog picture of all these books sprawled about, lots of followers, and of course Lucky #13)

12. Kelly (family, music, and smiles... can't go wrong)

11. Tina Lee (mysterious picture; conversational writing voice)

10. Debra (writer and artist, former rock 'n roll princess... hmmm... interesting, in a good way)

9. Suzanne (teacher, writer, fan of dark things, female Neil Gaiman?)

8. Alexander (writer; publisher, family guy, new agent in town, guy from movie "Unfaithful" look-alike)

7. Irene (sister-in-law, born in Switzerland, new mother, reader, tennis player, I could go on)

6. DJ (wife, my all-in-one everything (hope you're reading this), she and sis have read (or skimmed) every novel from James Patterson/David Baldacci/Insert remaining mystery authors' names here)

5. Anita (wisecracker and book reviewer; could be off to France, are you going?)

4. Ben (author of Sophomore Undercover, has been known to don extraordinary sweaters and a more extraordinary beard)

3. Monica (brand-new blog out there, check it out!)

2. Chris (middle grade author, number two)

1. Paul (PMM; leader of the free Murphblog; teacher, writer, and attempted weight-loser, whose followers I steal when he's not looking)

So there you are, linked and packaged like sausages.

Oh yeah, and Chalkheads can never be erased, so sit tight and get to know one another.

Mobile Blogging

This is a test post. I'm trying something new, mobile blogging, because I really need another avenue to blog and I thought typing on a little phone with tiny buttons sounded ideal, especially if you have fat fingers.

More Killer Whale!

I'm in San Diego with the fam. I brought the laptop and found an internet connection floating around the hoversphere somewhere. Today we took Blondie to Sea World and tomorrow brings promises of more captive, well-trained wild animals at the famous San Diego Zoo. The weather has been perfect, sunny and 70s. Love those S's when it comes to atmosphere reporting.

Shamu.

Everyone knows who it is. The killer whale at Sea World who spins on its back like a breakdancer in Brooklyn and poses like the letter O's bottom half for photos. It is the most popular attraction at Sea World and draws a stadium full of Shamu-heads so you're kind of obligated to see it if you're there. Right?

The show opens with a deep, authoritative voice accompanying a film. That's right, I said a film. Not just a few images but a short film, which plays intermittently throughout the show. The film tells the story of a boy, wearing a necklace with a whale tale pendant and rowing in a canoe on the ocean, who happens to see a killer whale rocket into the sky and fall back into the water. This experience makes the boy dream of one day swimming with whales. Cheesy? Yes, extra, extra cheesy. If the film were a pizza, you couldn't tear a piece from the rest of the pie without creating a stringy mess.

So one of the male trainers comes out wearing the same whale tale pendant necklace and on the big screen is a picture of the boy in the canoe and the trainer, side by side, both wearing these triple cheesy whale tale necklaces. The boy from the film is supposed to be the trainer. But let's be honest here, boys and girls. It's not.

The message: BELIEVE and your dreams can come true. If you dream of one day swimming with killer whales and riding their noses across a vast pool in front of thousands of people, it could come true.

Blah! I just puked.

Every show/story needs a hook and the film isn't making the cut. So how bout this? Send a 10,000 pound orca out there and have it jump fifty feet in the air and splash five hundred people when it lands. That's the best way to get everyone's attention, especially the youngsters. Then have the whales do more tricks and splash more people and tell me a little about each one of these amazing creatures. Hey, Sea World, it ain't about the trainers. It's about the big black and white things called killer whales. You know, the reason you're in business in the first place.

Cut the cheese piece film with the boy and the necklace and give me more cow bell, I mean killer whale!

Did my daughter enjoy the show? She did. But during the three or four film parts, she said, "Where da whale go?"

'Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore!"

Seven years ago, I received leopard print lingerie trimmed with lace as a holiday gift. It looked something like this. Okay, did you really think I would give you a link to leopard skin lingerie on a blog about writing for young people?

The lingerie could've been a gag gift. No big deal, right? Well, it was from a fourth grade girl, who is now going to be a senior in high school.

It was all a mistake. She accidentally grabbed the wrong gift off the kitchen counter and mistook it as being for me. Behind closed doors, I actually posed for a picture while holding up the lingerie. That was before we (teachers) knew what had really happened. At that time, I thought it was a gift for my girlfriend, who is now my wife. It wasn't. Like I said, it was an innocent mistake but it makes a good story. How did this all unravel? The girl gave me the gift on Friday and we didn't have school again until Tuesday. So she had to live with that mistake haunting her for a long weekend. On Tuesday morning, she walked toward me while grinning and said, "Mr. Wymer, I messed up your gift."

So who was the lingerie for? After speaking to the girl's parents, who thought the whole thing was hilarious, I found out it was supposed to be for another mom in the class, some kind of gag gift from the girl's mom. Yeah, right.

Over the last decade or so, I've gotten many random gifts and several nice ones. This year I received one of my all-time favorites. It's pictured at the top. A coffee mug covered with Shakespearean insults. The odd thing about the gift is that an extremely shy girl gave it to me during the last week of school. I mean EXTREMELY shy. Like this girl speaks about a half-notch above a whisper. And she's the most polite person ever.

What makes this gift so great? When we read A Midsummer Night's Dream, we study the language and words used in Shakespeare's time, especially insults. Who wouldn't? We also play a game where students get to stand, one at a time, and fire off Shakespearean insults at me. Of course, I fire them right back.

Fun stuff. Great gift. Now I can drink coffee in the morning and say things like, "You're a lump of foul deformity" and "You're a clod of wayward marl."

Grey Matters

"If you wanted to create an education environment that was directly opposed to what the brain was good at doing, you probably would design something like a classroom. If you wanted to create a business environment that was directly opposed to what the brain was good at doing, you probably would design something like a cubicle. And if you wanted to change things, you might have to tear down both and start over."

Brain Rules, by John Medina

Every year a few high-ranking administrators at my school get together in one of their dimly-lit offices and toss out ideas until a rousing cloud of intellectual combustion happens and PRESTO! A sleep aide, called a book, appears out of the stale air and we all have to read it over the summer. Last year it was HOW SOCCER EXPLAINS THE WORLD and the year before that it was SCHOOL OF DREAMS.

Today we had our year-end meeting at school and each faculty member was given a copy of BRAIN RULES by John Medina for required summer reading. After the luncheon, held at the local country club, I came home and plopped down on the couch, opened the book, and read the introduction. The first paragraph grabbed me by the throat and said, "Keep reading!" In the opening Medina tells of a boy who can double an insanely large number 24 times in his head in only seconds, a girl who can figure the exact dimensions of objects sitting 20 feet away, and a boy who can tell the precise time of day at any moment, even in his sleep. Oh, the power of the brain! Before I knew it I had read the entire intro, in which Medina lays out his 12 brain rules, and I couldn't wait to dive into the first section...

EXERCISE

Rule #1

Exercise boosts brain power.

I rifled through this section, felt guilty, dropped the book, and yelled, "Honey, I'm going for a run!" I quickly got dressed, tied up my shoes, grabbed my iPod, and flew down the stairs and out of the apartment building. I ended up running about three miles, which is only impressive because I drank three (free) beers at the luncheon only hours earlier.

As a former psychology major, the brain has always fascinated me. It is the most diverse communication entity in the world and its ability never fails to impress. And besides that, we all have one.

So by now you're asking, "Who is John Medina?" He's a developmental molecular biologist, research consultant, and director of the Brain Center for Applied Learning Research at Seattle Pacific University. Oh, and he looks like Steve Wozniak.

The quote I used to open today's post tells you what direction Medina takes this book, but I can't wait to see how he gets there.

Saturday

My wife is gone this weekend, so it's me and two year-old Blondie.

Here's what we did this morning:

Breakfast

My Gym class 

House viewing (trying to buy one) 

Starbucks (Americano for me, Rice Krispie treat for Blondie)

Bookstore (bought The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex)

Castle-building

House-building

Lunch (leftover quesadillas for me; pasta for Blondie)

Naptime

What I did during naptime:

Replied to emails

Cleaned up PB ms; emailed it to critique group

Comments on MG novel; emailed them to writer

Blog post

I'm tired. When is my nap? Nevermind, I hear Blondie waking up.

What I'm Reading

Image by Adam K. Wilcox via Flickr

If you scroll down and look to the right sidebar you'll see what I'm currently reading. No, that's not a mistake. I'm reading the lyrics to DMB's new album Big Whiskey and the Groogrux King. Dave Matthews drew the album artwork, which is full of wicked characters and color, and he hand-wrote the lyrics onto the little booklet that comes inside the CD case. Oh, and the CD case is not one of those annoying plastic ones that is impenetrable upon purchase. It's made of some type of thick paper, probably recycled material but not sure.  

Why am I reading the lyrics?

Because they're full of rhyme and reason from all sorts of emotions. I don't like rhyme, but I really like reason, so I'm giving it all a whirl. Hey, let's face it, songwriting is another medium of writing. We fictioners don't think much of it, but when it comes down to it, every song tells a story. 

The lyrics were transcribed in small print so I could be left blinded by the time I complete the reading of the song's final track (with words) called You & Me.   

I've listened to the album a few times and I highly recommend it. Some aggressive songs, some light songs, and some songs that start out quiet and explode into brilliance. 

Droodles & Stoplights

These are a few more droodles from the good ole journal, where anything designed with a hand and black Sharpie is welcome.

This represents my fascination with stoplights. Everything about them intrigues me. Size, shape, colors, how they operate. They're much bigger than they appear hanging vertically from those street poles.

My attempts at drawing people, the most difficult objects on earth to replicate. (More attempts to come)

A couple of droodles concerning my current PB wip:

I am not posting these because I think they're good in any way. But I am posting them for a few reasons.

Why do I droodle?

1. I need blog material

2. Droodling sparks ideas (it could do the same for you!)

3. Another creative outlet, one that happens to complement writing

4. My daughter points and laughs at them

Tricked You!

Today one of my sixth grade students, a boy, confessed a deep, dark secret to me and I'm going to share it with you.

The class was working on a Trojan War word search. Easy now, hold your judgments. It's the last week of school. Time for a few light, less structured activities. Plus the word search only took up the top half of the page. The bottom half directed students to create their own comic strips using characters (from the Trojan War) with exaggerated features. For example, a picture of a smirking Achilles with tiny heels, so tiny that an arrow couldn't possibly pierce them. The caption could read, "Let it fly, Paris. What are you waiting for?"

One boy had a bad case of the summer jitters. In other words, he was feeling loose and goofy and nearly in a state of delirium. He then looked at me and said, "Mr. Wymer, I have something to tell you, but I'm not sure if I should say it or not."

"Well," I said, "then maybe you shouldn't say it."

His eyes darted to the side and down and then he suddenly said, "I didn't read one of the summer reading books."

Inside my head I rolled on the floor laughing but on the outside I looked slightly disappointed. "Which one?" I asked.

"Under the Blood-Red Sun," he admitted.

"Really," I said. "Then that explains your essay."

The boy grinned and then went back to the word search. I'm sure he felt some sense of relief after coming clean since it had been weighing on his conscience for ten months.

A fitting self-inflicted consequence.

Droodle Correction

The macaw actually has a large bottom part to its beak that I neglected to include. That's what happens when you droodle something when you're not a real droodler. 

Revised Novel Set List & Droodles

This is a revised novel set list (click to enlarge) for my latest middle grade WIP. You can find the original set list in the post from yesterday. I reordered and deleted some scenes and added the section BOTTOM to remind me when I want things to get icky for the main character. This is the part when I want him to "bottom out" and feel like nothing can go his way. In traditional story structure this would be the end of the second act, before the hero gathers his strength and resources and charges forward to accomplish his goal.

This is not a drawing or a doodle, but a droodle, something in between the two. The macaw sketch is just something I did out of boredom. Since these cunning birds star in my WIP, I thought I'd devote my precious minutes [while students are taking a Trojan War quiz (see On the Go section to the right)] to droodling one of them. I'm sure the bird is out of proportion but that's not important. I've never claimed to be an illustrator, except in this post, where I unveiled my artistic prowess at an early age.

This droodle is a depiction of a PB manuscript I've been working on for the last month. I won't say anymore about it but I will say that I'm really excited about it. I've never quite been a PB kind of person. Don't really like writing constrictions and parameters. And since these books are 32 pages, well, there's not much room for words. But. A big BUT! I've fallen for this tiny story and can't stop thinking about it. Sure my wife is jealous about now.

Novel Set List

Before typing the first word of my latest middle grade WIP, I decided to write out a scene list. I call it a set list (click to enlarge) because it reminds me of song titles that a band might jot down before a concert.

It's a list of words that represent initial ideas or big scenes. These words could later lead to other ideas and other smaller scenes and could even work as chapter titles (if you're in to using chapter titles). Nothing here is concrete. In fact, I'll rewrite this set list many times before and during the first draft. For me, it works. The list keeps me focused on the narrative's plot points without painting myself into a corner or forcing my characters into scenes that don't belong or make sense. It also makes me feel good about having something down on paper. A story map of sorts.


Dave Matthews:











Bruce Springsteen: