Abuse enjambement

I walked along an empty beach

just as the autumn sun was reach-

ing the height of its ascent

and that tableaux became cement-

ed in my mind and in my mem-

ory that day in late Septem-

ber. I stood and watched for min-

utes the pale and glimmerin-

g face of that great child of heav-

en glide across the sky so lev-

el.

Cracking Open the Heart--The Triad of Healing through Writing

How recently have you cracked open your heart?

One of my favorite--and riskiest--writing classes to teach is called "Writing through Healing, Healing through Writing." It's all about cracking open the heart to reveal the inner story of our lives to ourselves and others. Not an easy process, but oh, so rewarding. I teach this class a couple of times a year at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis.

This past weekend I spent a day on the subject of writing through healing with a group of 22 amazing beings, all doing their best to move through life with consciousness. Via a series of writing exercises, we experienced the cracking of the heart and began to explore what possible gifts and learning our particular traumas held.

Not everyone was ready for this. I'm very aware, from my own experiences of cancer and loss of family members, moving and divorce and business failure, how hard it is to write when you're in the midst of BIG STUFF. Deep grief, and the resulting numbness, is not often a great jumping off place for writing. Especially when the transition is not expected or welcome, not something you initiated. But in each of my big changes, the writing has helped me heal.

Why Does Writing Heal?
Fifteen years ago people scoffed at the idea of writing being medically effective. Now we have documented medical studies that show it.
James Pennebaker, currently with the University of Texas Austin, helped start our national awareness about the healing effects of writing. He was one of the forerunners that studied the results of writing regularly on immune function, emotional and mental health, and general well-being.

Another favorite researcher is Dr. Louise DeSalvo, author of Writing as a Way of Healing. DeSalvo details three elements that must be present for writing to heal you. If you just vent on paper or detail all the facts, it won't transform your heart. But if you include these three elements, you have a good chance.

In class we practiced writing (1) how we felt during or before the trauma, (2) how we feel now in comparison, and (3) what specific details about the event we remembered. I offered these three steps one by one, letting the class members sense how the change began to build inside as they added one more of the three elements.

For instance, a writer might list all the minute details of a life-threatening hospital stay. It feels good to get it all out on paper, but this is only one of the three elements. This recording process can take a year, or months, or weeks, depending on how long the healing journey needs to be.

One day, the writer might begin to write about feelings--what life was like before the accident or illness. It seems like another era, to be sure, but memories are there. Perhaps one memory is triggered by a sense. A piece of music, a certain smell, the slap of a screen door against a wood frame, the light on a lake at sunrise. Writing this feeling moment becomes the second in our triad of elements. It also includes the feelings during the trauma, if they can be remembered. It's often hard to write about these, but it is putting the second element in place--even if only a few sentences are put on paper.

The third element is now. How does the writer feel now, looking back on the time that's passed? This requires enough time to have passed! If the trauma just happened, it may not be possible to include this third element. If the daily details of just coping are overwhelming, there's no perspective yet to write about feelings now in comparison to then.

So time must pass. I make sure to mention this in the class. Let time pass, then healing can begin.

This Week's Writing Exercise
1. Make a list of 12 moments in your life that were major turning points for you.
2. Choose one and begin the three elements. First write about the details of that experience, as much as you can remember. Include three of the five senses--smells, sounds, visual details, weather or temperature or season (touch), or taste. These will help awaken the sense memory that makes the details real.
3. Write about how you felt during the change.
4. Write about how you feel now, in comparison.
5. After you finish this exercise, spend a little time musing about what might have happened to crack open the heart a tiny bit. Do you have any new perspectives from the writing?
6. How might this writing be used in your book--either as part of a character's life or part of your narrator's experience, as an anecdote about something your topic addresses?

Make your characters incapable of learning anything

‘Zalbotron! So you’re the one who’s been sabotaging the oxygen systems? How could you!’ The robot shook its head with what seemed to Gretta like a look of remorse.

*I AM PROGRAMMED FOR EVIL* it said. *THE PROFESSOR SENT ME TO KILL YOU*

‘Oh Zalbotron,’ said Gretta, sadly. ‘And I thought we were friends.’

*I HAVE NO CONCEPT OF FRIENDSHIP* *I AM PROGRAMMED ONLY TO KILL* Gretta put a hand on the robot’s shoulder.

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ she said. ‘I’ll be your friend.’ The robot whirred for a second.

*I WILL ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU*

‘Well, if we’re going to teach you about friendship, Zalbotron, the first lesson you need is that friendship is all about forgiveness.’ She smiled. ‘I forgive you, Zalbotron, and I’m sure you won’t try to kill me again.’

*I WILL*

‘Silly old Zalbotron!’ laughed Gretta. ‘You do say some funny things! Come on, let’s go and leave you unattended near the life support computer.’

Give every character a tragic backstory

Rape victim Sarah Nuffield examined the tiles on her rack. The triple word score seemed out of reach for now, but maybe if she...

‘Come on, come on,’ barked Pete, who had lost an eye in the same childhood accident which had killed his twin brother. ‘We haven’t got all day.’

‘Oh Pete,’ laughed Andrea, whose crippling bouts of depression had led her more than once to the brink of suicide. ‘Leave Sarah alone. It’s only a game.’

‘Yeah, Pete,’ said Simon. ‘You took long enough on your turn.’ He flashed Pete the sympathetic smile which had been his trademark since he had escaped from the religious cult which had indoctrinated him, taken all his money and forced him never to see his family again.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Pete, bravely struggling with his lack of adequate depth perception, ‘but I’ve got a real doozy lined up here.’

‘Lucky you,’ said Sarah. ‘The only word I can make is “anguish,” and I can’t find a place to put it.’

‘How about there?’ said Andrea, with a chuckle. ‘Using the “A” from “trauma?”’

Three Steps to Crafting a Book: Content, Structure, Language

It's a rainy Saturday and I'm teaching at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis. Outside, trees are in full leaf, lilacs are blooming, signs of spring are everywhere, unheard of in Minnesota in late April. But because of the rain, my class of 25 writers is content to be indoors.

They've been working on their books all morning. Now I've sent them off to write. They are each going to travel the river that is their book.

Viewing a book as a river let me imagine it as a journey. I wonder which part of the river will make the most engaging focus for my story? Memoirists, unlike autobiographical writers, choose one or more sections. These must be filled with deep meaning. They must have good content.

So first we look at this question: What's the most interesting landscape the river passes? What content is the most relevant to the story I want to tell?

Step One: Content
Choosing content is a basic first step in crafting a manuscript, no matter what the genre. Memoirists look at the content of their lives, the events that happened, and try to select those with the most impact. While memoirists work from true events, novelists create story from fictional ones, but in the same manner--what engages the reader most easily? Nonfiction writers also do this. I may be writing a book on learning to play the piano, but the first essential question is What do I include and what do I omit?

Content is the outer story, the facts or events your book revolves around. You must have content, dramatic and engaging moments, to create any momentum. To keep us reading. A river always moves.

How do you begin gathering content?
You may have scenes written, you may have journal entries, you may have ideas jotted down. Writers who attend my book-writing workshops learn about crafting these scenes, freewrites, or "islands" as unlinked sections of writing, free from any overall structure or organization.

I learned this method when I was writing my fifth book. It's used by many writers because it allows a great amount of creative flow, unimpeded by writer's block. We write content and don't worry yet about the structure, a very freeing experience for the creative self.

But there comes a time when the writing accumulates, the scenes grow, the islands get impossible to keep track of, because there are so many. A next step is needed.

If the writer doesn't begin to structure the content, this is where the writing stalls out.

Step Two: Structure
Why not structure first? Why do I recommend accumulating content before starting to organize it? Why not use an outline?

As a writer, I've written books from outline and books from the content/structure method I'm a big fan of now. But as an editor, I've worked with way too many book outlines that needed serious rearranging to be publication worthy.

It really depends on the writer's skill at seeing "inner story." Most of us can't--or we only see a shallow version of it when we're writing our book's initial content. If this is true for you, an outline may limit you from taking necessary detours--and this is sad, because such sidetracks surface unexpected meaning that you don't plan for. But working without an outline requires you to give up control of the direction of your story. It becomes more organic--and actually more fun to write.

I've seen too many writers get stuck because what's next to write from the outline isn't what's burning to be written. So I advise waiting to structure until there is content written.

Study other writers you admire, to learn how to structure your own story. Select two pages from a book you love. Read it as a writer, looking at the arrangement of elements on these pages--what choices did the writer make? What effect did it bring to you, the reader? You can learn a lot about how the "inner story" conveys the emotion.

So when you work with structuring your own story, look at the pieces you've written and first imagine the effect you want to create from them. Then arrange them toward that effect.

Step Three: Language
Language is the intangible, the thing you can't go after directly. It's all about voice and tone, the rhythm of the writing. It's where the book's deeper message emerges almost organically.

Good content combines with good structuring, an interesting story with an arrangement that provides a strong reaction in a reader. The last step is adjusting the language to enhance that reaction. As you do this more and more, your unique voice will emerge.

Editing with These Three Steps
When we've drafted the manuscript, working through these three steps of content, structure, and language, there comes the crafting time. We need to edit the manuscript and make sure that each of these three is working in harmony with the others. The story has integrity and reads as a whole experience.

You review the content--does the story you're telling have enough happening, enough dramatic action, enough important information?

You review the structure or organization of this content, asking yourself where you want the greatest emotional impact on the reader. Does your arrangement of islands achieve this?

You review the language--how is the pacing, the sentence length, the word choice that you're using? Does the language of tense dramatic moments reflect this tension?

To Learn More
This summer I'm teaching a five-day writing retreat that focuses on these three aspects of writing and editing a book. Writers of all levels and at all stages of progress on their manuscript will be attending. We'll work together in the classroom for 4 hours a day, then you'll be able to write for 4 hours. It's a chance to make tangible progress on your book, if you'd like to join us.

The setting is amazing--Madeline Island, in Lake Superior off the northern shore of Wisconsin, about 90 minutes from Duluth, Minnesota. One of the Apostle Islands, Madeline Island is simply beautiful, a wild, peaceful, and inspiring place to write. We'll be gathering at an arts school there, Madeline School of the Arts, with free run of the campus for the week. There's lodging available at the school and nearby. The dates are Monday July 26 to Friday July 30. The cost of the 5 day workshop is $410 and it's limited to 15 writers, so I can work closely with each of you on your particular project. There's still room. The website for more information and registration is www.madelineartschool.com. Search for "Mary Carroll Moore" or "How to Plan, Write, and Develop a Book."

If this idea of simplifying your writing and editing process appeals to you, give yourself the gift this summer and join me for this retreat.

This Week: Three Possible Writing Exercises
Ask yourself which step you're on. Are you working with content, gathering pieces of writing for your book? Are you beginning to structure that writing, arrange it for the impact you're after? Do you have your manuscript completely drafted, ready for language development?

Choose one of the exercises below, whichever one matches your particular step in the river journey, and try it this week.

1. Content: Make a list of topics for your book. Brainstorm anything that might be interesting to include--even if you can't imagine how it would fit. If you're drawn to write about it, follow that nudge. Try to gather 25 topics on your list. Most of these should be outer events, to provide dramatic action, but they can also be descriptions of a place, person, thing.

2. Structure: Take 5 scenes or islands you've written, that seem to fit together and might become a chapter. Letting go of chronology for a moment, play with different arrangements of these 5. What if you started with the most dramatic one? What would still need to be written to make good transitions between them?

3. Language: Print out one of your finished chapters, double-spaced. Lay the pages on a table so you can see all of them. Squint and look for the balance of white space and dense text. Where is there too much of either? Now read that section. How can you bring in the missing element to balance the pacing?

Starting a Law Firm | Timeline for Success

A funny thing happened to me yesterday that is a perfect starting a law firm post. I was sitting in my office, working away as usual, when the owner of the space I lease from (who is also a DUI attorney in the area, by the way) poked his head in to ask if we could have a chat. This guys okay as a person, but I've quickly learned he's not talking to me or anyone else unless he wants something or unless he's got something to tell me. He didn't want anything.

He just hired a new attorney, and while that was great for him, he'd overextended himself on space. What I mean is, he rented out all of his open offices to people. The other people are probate attorneys, employment attorneys, and non-attorneys. I was the only person in the suite that was a fellow criminal defense attorney. I knew where this was going.

My lease is up at the end of May. And he's not renewing. No hard feelings (and none felt), but he needs the space. "No worries" I told him. "I'll start looking for a new law firm office space immediately."

The lesson there is that business is business, and you can't take it personally. I knew he didn't want me there. Quite honestly, his employees like me better than him, and he knows that if I asked they'd all come and work for me. It's a way for him to kill two birds with one stone. So I move on.

But, while I had him in my office, I wasn't going to let him escape just like that. I knew he was feeling a little guilty about kicking me out, so I peppered him with a few business questions. If this guy is nothing, he is successful, and I wanted to get some of that information from him.

It started out with one simple question - how long did it take before you felt like your firm was really successful, until you were meeting your expectations? He didn't even wait until I was finished with the question before he said - "5 years." "And," he said, "that timeline applies with almost all new businesses."

He went on to tell me that in his first years he'd met most of his goals, though just barely. Then, in year three he started to do pretty well. Then in year four, he was really starting to kick ass. And then he looked back at the end of year five and found that he was exceeding his goals.

Another thing he said, and something that I think is important for all of you out there thinking about starting a law firm, is that you have to stick with it. It isn't nearly as easy as I make it sound here. It takes a lot of hard work. You are going to be out of your comfort zone almost every day (especially if you are doing things right), and there are going to be days where you wonder if you are moving in the right direction.

But the key is to keep progressing, keep working on the plan and keep pushing forward. Service based businesses aren't built over night. And if you quit before you even get started, you have no chance.

Heading into this weekend, don't think about how you are going to start your firm. Think about where you want to be in year one. Think about where you want to be in year two. And think about what you are going to do to get there. And then get going.

HOMAGE WEEK #5: Try too hard to be J.R.R. Tolkien

Leotharg son of Peotharg, grandkin of Beotharg, whose horn had sounded over the fields of Giethen at the battle of Eyoiwylin Pass even as his people, descendants of Thargotharg the forgotten, sought shelter in the Great Forest of Than’Dythyll, sat down heavily.

‘Epyothnell of Yangdril,’ he said, ’protector of those who are lost and prophesied Lord of Balthangdrang’Grathril.’

‘Speak,’ replied Epyothnell of Yangdril, protector of those who are lost and prophesied Lord of Balthangdrang’Grathril.

‘My wounds are deep,’ said Leotharg son of Peotharg, nephew of Eotharg, second cousin of Uluklolotharg, ‘but I come before you to ask a boon.’

‘If it is in my power, it shall be made so,’ said Epyothnell of Yangdril of the bloodline of Esh, namer of the tree and maker of the book of chronicles. Leotharg bowed his head in supplication, as was the custom, and spoke.

‘I want to change my name,’ he said.

HOMAGE WEEK #4: Try too hard to be Raymond Chandler

He fixed me with the kind of look a drunk gives to the bottom of an empty glass. I felt a cold rivulet of sweat sliding down my spine. If I had a chance in hell of getting back to my car, it seemed like I was going to be the last to know about it.

‘Seems like I’m not needed here,’ I said, flicking a fictional mote of dust off my sleeve. ‘I’ll leave you gentlemen in peace.’ As I turned, I heard the sound of chairs scraping back across the concrete floor behind me.

‘No, you gotta stay,’ said the big guy, with a smile that could have rotted fruit. I stopped, but didn’t look round.

‘I’m fine,’ I muttered. My gut turned over like a hooker right after she’s earned her money and now she just wants to sleep, damn it.

HOMAGE WEEK #3: Try too hard to be James Joyce

Redoubtable son of the peatstenched bogland Christian Yeoman bent low his back in a gesture of genuflection as ancient as the genus of the meat that lay undigested in his bowel. Placing one unremarkable hand against the other, he lowmurmured Roman syllables through dry lips – an observance which lasted only as long as the abatement of his gastric activity would allow. Finally, in a hot rush of brackish bile which itself was a catechism of sorts, he half-suppressed, half-amplified a belch which was as miasmically potent as it was profane. As if in response, somewhere high and far across the ancient city, an albatross called out.

– And yourself the flyaway scoundrel, said Christian, although to the empty graveyard as much as the bird, he thought. What do you think of the matter? What’s your view?

As quickly as it had downswooped into consciousness though it was gone and away and then came only the wind and the clouds oh the clouds like the souls of those long departed but not yet by their warmbreathed kin forgotten no not yet not yet not yet.

HOMAGE WEEK #2: Try too hard to be Vladimir Nabokov

Given the prurient vigilance of my (if I am permitted to say) chaetiferous would-be lapidators, I fear and suspect that this tristisonous recounting of my own purgative and perhaps, I will readily admit, parachronistic account of the circumstances surrounding the events of which we were previously talking may prove to be somewhat invidious. As you are no doubt already cognisant, I am resident – have been resident – remain resident – in what is perhaps best described as an establishment whose express purpose is the containment of persons of what might be termed, I suppose, sociological interest (persons, it is now painfully evident, such as myself).

HOMAGE WEEK #1: Try too hard to be Ernest Hemingway

The night had come. Brett squinted. It was dark. This was the last day of his life. There was water below him. He was in a boat. In an instant, he felt the night around him. Cold. There was a scar on his back, running from his left shoulder blade down to his right hip. He had got this scar from wrestling. He had wrestled bears. Bears were mean.

‘I’m hungry,’ he muttered, but there was no one there to hear him. He felt the burden of the concept of masculinity weighing down on him. Also, he felt a pressing need to void his bowels. Then, he heard the dull report of a distant gunshot. A previously unmentioned army had begun its advance.

The Final Act--Are You Ready to Finish Your Story?

Sunset always happens. The day ends. So does your book, essay, poem, story. Eventually you have to tie all the loose bits into reasonable conclusion. Great books leave us in love with the story we've just read, excited about the ideas we've just heard. There's an effect of satisfaction and engagement. How does a writer achieve that?

I learned about it one summer long ago, when I took a writing course at the University of Iowa. My instructor taught me a concept that was new to me: earned outcomes. He referred to good endings, how they make sense because the hints are built in as we go along. Yet they are not overly predictable. I was attempting my first novel back then (one which will forever remain in the file cabinet) and I'd never before heard the question: Have you earned this outcome?

He advised going back through the chapters, seeing if each thread brought into the ending actually wove, unbroken, back through the book.

In that novel, there were so many broken threads, I couldn't finish it. Conclusions I planted in my ending chapters were not foreshadowed earlier, so readers would certainly feel unpleasantly surprised, not pleasantly satisfied. A good ending, or Act 3, of any piece of writing must be anticipated but not expected. In other words, you plant the hints and you deliver the result in a way that makes us think, Wow, that's great, and I suspected it might be so.

I learned a lot from that U of Iowa instructor. Ten years later, when I was writing Act 3 of my second novel, Qualities of Light, I asked myself this "earned outcome" question. I made a list of how I wanted the reader to feel about each character and major event by the last chapter. Then I brainstormed that outcome, working backwards.



How to Not End with a Whimper I'm a great fan Phillip Pullman's children's book, The Golden Compass, and its sequels. I read the book long before the movie came out. When I saw the movie, I was pleased with its translation from print, but the ending frustrated me terribly. Of course, Hollywood will sell many seats to the sequel, but I wanted a real ending, a sense of satisfaction that Lyra, the heroine, had changed and grown. The book contained this earned outcome. The movie left us hanging. As a viewer, I felt manipulated and gypped.

Even if you are planning a sequel or two or three, work your Act 3 so that readers linger in the glow of a good ending. Start by asking yourself, Where would I like a reader to be by the end of this book? If it's memoir, what changes in the relationships between you and the world? If it's nonfiction, how jazzed would you like the reader to be about your material or method? If fiction, how in love with the story?

Remember, Act 3 must do three things:
1. Resolve or redeem the crisis or main character
2. Present new arrangement of players, situation, learning
3. Create a loop with the beginning (an echo of elements)

All of these mean an earned outcome.

This Week's Writing Exercise
This week's exercise is best done over several writing sessions, since it requires you to get some detachment from your writing project.

Spend 20 minutes or so brainstorming on paper about what you hope the reader will feel by the end of your book or writing project. What experience would you like the reader to have? List the qualities. One might be enthusiasm to try it, if your book is about a new theory you're trying to present. Another might be a total engagement with the characters' change.

Next, begin a list. What moments could you weave into the earlier chapters that would create this kind of effect in Act 3? What have you already written to earn that outcome, and what needs to still be put in place?

Starting a Law Firm | Remember Why You Do It

When you start a business, whether a law firm, a restaurant, or anything else, it's easy to let it engulf your entire life. What ends up happening (or at least what's happened to me) is that your business is always in the back of your mind, no matter what you are doing, and you are constantly thinking of new things you can do to help make your business better. In the end this is great for your new law firm, but it can be bad for you personally.

In honor of spring finally sprouting out here in my neck of the woods, I'm going to talk about what my ultimate goals are for the firm, from a business perspective. We all know that we want to help people and blah blah blah. And, honestly, some more than others. I love the battle that goes on with each case, and, like I tell my clients, I don't really care if they are innocent or guilty, the way I see it my job is to do everything I can for them to make their lives better.

And, I guess what this post is really about is not the long term goals, but the short term goals (and benefits) of starting a law firm. What I mean is, I have a goal for this year, and this summer in particular, that I want to get out and play golf one a week. But, I'm not necessarily talking about during the weekend. I'm talking about during the week.

"Oh my god" I'm sure some of you are saying. "How can you take off half a day and still have a successful practice?" You know how? Pretty easily. First, half a day isn't going to destroy anyone's business. And, honestly, what it makes me do is focus on what I have to do during the rest of the week. That means all that facebook and internet browsing time you have that turns your 5 hour work day into a 10 hour work day I just don't have.

I'm sure you didn't start your law firm to work all the time. I'm sure you started it to take care of yourself, take care of your family, and enjoy life. Why not start doing that now? I bet if you ask the boss he (or she) will tell it's just fine if you take a half day off every once in a while.

If in doubt, initiate sex

‘Phew,’ said Professor Benkin. ‘It looks like the readings from the Bohm reactor are back at normal levels. That was a close one.’

‘It certainly was,’ purred Alex, stroking his arm. ‘But what should we do to pass the time before the lockdown ends?’

‘I’m sure we’ll think of something,’ Professor Benkin grinned.

Twenty minutes later, the vault door juddered into motion and rose to reveal a group of hazard-suited figures.

‘You took your time,’ said the Professor, putting his socks back on. The foremost figure pulled off her hazard helmet, releasing a cascade of luscious, chestnut-brown hair.

‘We thought you might appreciate some... time alone,’ she said, with a smirk. ‘But you two are going to need all your energy for the journey back.’

‘Why?’ asked Alex.

‘Oh,’ she said, running her fingertips lightly over her Geiger counter, ‘you’ll find out.’

Three hours later, the exhausted scientists arrived back at their lab, only to find a very special visitor waiting for them.

‘Professor Benkin. Dr. Molloy,’ said the President. ‘The Government of the United States wishes to show their gratitude for your heroic efforts.’ He smiled seductively. ‘In any way we can...’

Build tension

Helen reached out for the sandwich, every muscle in her arm tensing with the effort of it. Even now, committed as she was to the plan, she wasn’t sure she could do it. The distance from the sofa to the table might simply be too great. Even if she managed to stretch her already aching arm far enough to touch the sandwich, could she get it off the table and securely into her grip? It was too late to back down now.

She took a deep breath and lunged forward. For a moment, her hand grasped at empty air and she felt the vertiginous pull of the hard wooden floor a full foot, maybe two, below. Then, just as panic was beginning to set in, she felt the soft, crumby sensation of bread under her fingers. This was it! Now she just had to hang on long enough to get it to her waiting mouth and the cheesy, buttery, wholemeal taste of victory would be hers.

Try to cater for all tastes

Peter (or Melanie) loved his (or her) job as a [climate researcher / troubled teen vampire / astronaut / professional wrestler]. Every day he/she went to [the lab / the alley behind the blood bank / Mars / the gym] and did his/her best to [document the effects of global warming / not kill people / set up a viable permafrost retrieval system so that future colonists could have drinking water / slam Deathface Dragon with a clawhold suplex]. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.

The day our story takes place started like any other, but it was a day that would change Peter or Melanie’s life forever. He/she was just [compiling rainfall data / thinking about the transitory nature of human life / calibrating the drilling equipment / doing abdominal crunches] when a stranger walked into the [lab / alley / crater / ring] and, more quickly than he/she had ever believed possible, Peter/Melanie [fell in love / fell in love / fell in love / spin-flipped from the turnbuckle and clotheslined the stranger].

I Finally Reached Number One on Google. What Does it Mean?

It's Masters Sunday, and I really don't have a lot of concentration going on today. Not only do I have a fantasy golf game going on that I'm interested, I have the added distraction of a Masters Pool (currently in second and need a little help to win) and the Masters itself - not sure if you were aware but there's a guy named Tiger Woods who decided to play this week. I'm rooting for him. Everyone makes mistakes.

Now back to helping you start your law firm. If you read the title of this post you might expect that I already have someone ghost writing this for me while I sit in my house counting my money. This week I reached the number one spot for my desired keyword - Seattle DUI attorney. It gets about 3,600 searches a month according to the google adwords keyword tool (which is a great resource for figuring out what your targeted keywords should be). I was pumped. I was ready to start crushing the Seattle DUI attorney market.

Guess what happened? Nothing. Nothing at all. No increase in phone calls. Not a single thing.

So, what does it all mean? Does it mean my thoughts regarding internet marketing were wrong? Does it mean I've been doing all of this work in vain? Of course not. It means one thing - now that I'm there I need to figure out how to take advantage of that position. It means something is off, I need to find out what that is, and fix it.

Until recently I hadn't even looked at my website. When I made modifications several months ago I looked at purely from an SEO standpoint - will Google like this? Now, I realize the error of my ways. I need to answer two questions at all times with my online marketing efforts (and if you are starting a law firm you should do the same). Will Google like this? And, will this compel people to call and come see me? I don't think I was doing a great job answering this second question affirmatively.

Remember, folks, starting a law firm is a marathon, not a sprint. If you get great results at the beginning and don't continue to work on getting better, people are going to pass you by (trust me, I'm passing people right now that have been resting on their laurels). And, on the other side, if you don't experience great success right away, you need to channel the nervous feelings that you are having into working on your business. If something isn't working, don't just give up on it. Recognize it's not working, but take a look at why it's not working and tweak it to make it work.

Have a great week. I think next week, in honor of spring being upon us, I'll talk about my goal to play golf once a week (during the week) and why you should take time to get out of the office.

Go to the Movies--And Learn about Structuring Your Book

This week I made soup, because the weather turned unexpectedly cold. It was hot, 89 degrees, in the beginning of the week, but it hit 31 by week's end. We pulled out vegetables and turkey, curry powder and tomato sauce, and let everything simmer until dinner.

After dinner, we watched a movie. It was part of my assignment for the week, as I work on Act 2 of my next novel and a nonfiction book-in-progress. I love movies, but I love them even more when I watch them as a writer. I've always found movies the best way to learn about structure.


We decided to watch The Hours. You might remember it: It's based on the Pulitzer-winning book by Michael Cunningham; Nicole Kidman won an Academy Award for her portrayal of writer Virginia Woolf. A complex film, it weaves three separate stories and eras into one amazing whole, a statement on the exquisite pain and beauty of human existence.

Even though I was easily caught up in the story, I have seen it enough times to be able to take notes. I wanted to see how the three stories dealt with Act 2, the hardest section of any book.

Why Act 2 Is So Hard to Do Well
I've edited hundreds of manuscripts over the years. I often find the reason a manuscript doesn't keep my interest is because of a shaky Act 2. The main reason is that the writer gets bored about midway through the book. Enough already, they think. Let's just get through this part--the climax is much more interesting.

But if the tension and complexity isn't accelerated just right in Act 2, readers won't stick around for the climax. It's impossible to hold our interest.

Act 2 is the bridge that connects your opening with your ending. It's the only thing holding us up in the air during the middle of your book. If it has a shaky center support, it will collapse pretty easily.

This is true in all genres. Consider the other favorite film for soup nights: the beautiful documentary, Rivers and Tides, about artist Andy Goldworthy.

Goldworthy "sculpts" with the transitory landscape, making his creations out of tree bark, leaves, rocks, a stream. In Act 1 we are amazed that anyone can do this. By Act 2, the amazement becomes a question: What does this mean to him, the artist? How can someone live with knowing their art will disappear within hours or days?

Act 2 shows us exactly this: Goldworthy's creations become more complex and more difficult as the film progresses. They are also more beautiful, because we listen to him talk about their transitory nature. How their beauty, for him, resides in how they change and die.

Back to The Hours. Soup bowls are empty now, we're on to dessert. Act 2 is meeting its viewer goals in a very satisfying way. Virginia Woolf has backed herself into a life corner and clearly must take action; her 1940s counterpart, Kitty, has booked the motel room and pocketed the sleeping pills; the modern-day poet Richard is sitting on the windowsill over Manhattan. Three possible deaths, impact for a lot of people. Will they go through with it? If not, what will happen instead?

Act 2 is hard because you have to think: How can I, the writer, deliver a new understanding of my story or material? How can I address these big questions:
1. How is the dream or quest manifesting in real time?
2. How is the main question being answered--or not?
3. How is the action of Act 1 taking on new meaning as the story progresses?
4. What bigger test is being imposed on the characters or reader?
5. What deeper challenge is the book's material suggesting, as a take-away?

This Week's Exercise
This week's exercise is a simple one. Pick a movie you love. Watch it again. But watch it from a writer's point of view. Try to answer these questions:

1. Where does Act 1 stop and Act 2 begin? There should be a precipitous moment, when things are newly in question, or when the main characters, having solved one problem, are presented with an even greater one.

2. Where does Act 2 take you, as the viewer? What greater challenge or question is presented during Act 2?

3. Can you tell where Act 2 ends and the final Act begins? What do you experience or feel by the end of Act 2?

Make some notes and apply this to your own writing. If you have a storyboard of your book, consider what you're learning about Act 2. Does it fit what you've designed for your book?

Censor your characters

‘I’ve been a docker for twenty stinking years and now you’re telling me I’m out of a job because of these flipping cut-backs?’ Eddie clenched his fists. ‘Well, you can go forget yourself! I’m blinking angry about this!’

‘For fudge’s sake, Eddie, calm down,’ said his supervisor, spreading his hands in a soothing gesture. ‘It’s not my decision. It’s those blinking numbskulls in management who’ve come up with this frolicking plan.’

‘Yeah?’ muttered Eddie. ‘Well, they’re out of their damp minds. I ought to go up there and smash their flaking heads in.’

‘I talked to them already, Ed. They say they can’t change the situation.’

‘Can’t?’ said Eddie. ‘They can’t? That’s what they always say. It’s can’t this and can’t that and can’t the other. If you ask me, they’re a bunch of–’

‘Eddie,’ his supervisor interrupted. ‘I need you to flapping cool it right flouncing now.’

Drink & draft

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Abuse Alliteration

Charismatic charity chairman Charlie Chung chastised chain-smoking charwoman Charlotte Chambers.

‘Charlotte,’ chattered Charlie. ‘Chaste, childless Charlotte. Charmlessly choking choirs, chomping chorizo chunks, chanting chancel charivaris.’ Charlie chronicled Charlotte’s chronic cheek. ‘Change, Charlotte, change!’

‘Ch!’ chuckled chubby Charlotte. ‘Change? Charlatan Charlie Chung champions change? Charming!’

‘Charlotte,’ Charlie chided. Charlotte chewed chillingly.

‘Choose Christ,’ challenged chagrined Charlotte, channelling Chaplin’s chutzpah.

Three Acts--A Way to Organize the Monster That Is Your Book Manuscript

A well- structured book is like a clear trail. The reader can follow it. So can the writer.

But many writers get bogged down during the process of planning, writing, and finishing a manuscript. A writing project as big as a book can make us confused and overwhelmed. We get lost, even forget where we are in the journey.

I ran into this pretty often when I was involved my first books. I saw that there was a real need in most book writers, no matter the genre. We wanted a system, an easier way to navigate a book-length manuscript, make the path easier to follow--not just for our eventual readers, but also for us, as writers.

Many writers think that books are just expanded shorter pieces of writing. I thought so too, at first. I came from writing short and sweet, as a newspaper columnist for twelve years, and short pieces fit my creative impatience. I liked the closure of writing something each week, limited and succinct. I could work hard, get the writing done, and move on. But I really wanted to dive into a book.

I was naive in those days, innocent enough to think a book would be similar to the process of writing weekly columns. Just longer, right?

Wrong.



I learned that lesson pretty quickly. Books are far from a series of short pieces linked in a line. Books require special treatment, a new understanding of organization. An overall arc. This arc provides the reader with a trail to follow, a sort of logic so each part of the writing feels as if it belongs with the others.

I had a good editor in those early days of my first published books--something that doesn't happen very often in publishing houses nowadays. The editor helped me navigate the journey. When the manuscript felt overwhelming, he showed me our map. So I could complete a book and publish it without too much pain.

Three Acts Make Life Simpler
Five books later, I was on my own again. My editor had moved on and I had a new book contact, sans help. I struggled mightily once more, although I knew I could use my new map-making tools. They helped. But it wasn't until I came across the idea of a three-act structure, a way to think from the end of a manuscript, that my writing life got simpler again.

Here's how it works: You imagine how your manuscript could be divided into three parts, not equal, but each concluding with some turning point in understanding or event. Then you imagine what your reader would need to experience at each of these three junctions in your manuscript. Then you organize all the chapters toward that experience.

It puts you in the reader's chair. No longer the writer's. It helps you weed out what's not helping the reader have the experience you intend for that section of the story.

What Each Act Requires
I'm certainly not the first to use the three-act structure. It's ancient. One of the most helpful books about how to use it in writing is The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler. Vogler adapts Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey model and makes it very easy to implement in your book manuscript.

Studying both Vogler and Campbell, and my own and others' published writing, I have come up with a quick overview of the three acts and what each needs.

Act 1 must
1. Introduce the main players, container, and conflict or question of the book
2. Answer the question "Who is fighting whom for what?" (from John Truby, Truby's Story Structure)
3. Leave us with a greater problem by its end
4. Introduce the main helper/mentor/ally--whether person or concept
5. Present the "refusal of the call" (from Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey)

Act 2 must
1. Mix the volatile elements
2. Enter the darkest mystery, cave, biggest question--and come out changed
3. Provide tests and new systems to explore
4. Deliver a surprise
5. Present the final crisis at its end

Act 3 must
1. Resolve or redeem the crisis or main character
2. Present new arrangement of players, situation, learning
3. Create a loop with the beginning (an echo of elements)

This Week's Exercise
Adapted from a writing exercise I taught in my two-day book-structuring workshop this past weekend at the Loft Literary Center, this allows you to explore the three acts via desired qualities. It forces you to consider the reader's point of view.

1. Ask yourself how your book could be divided into three sections, or three acts. These don't have to be the same length. Ask yourself where there are natural breaking points, given the requirements above for each act.

2. Brainstorm what you would like the reader to have experienced by the end of Act 1. Then do the same for Act 2 and Act 3. Maybe some qualities you desire for Act 1 are "full engagement with my characters," "an understanding of their basic dilemma," and "a strong sense of the container of the story, or its environment."

3. Using these desired qualities, begin to go through the chapters or "islands" you have designated for Act 1. Ask yourself if each of them connects well with your desired qualities. You may find misplacement as you do this exercise--it's very common for writers to frontload the book with too much given away in Act 1. Move some of these sections to Act 2 or 3.

This exercise is a very helpful one to begin organizing your book and making each Act strong and sure. It can take several hours, or longer. Do as much as you can at one session then come back to it.

Use these qualities as a template for deciding what goes where in your manuscript.

Starting a Law Firm and Managing Expectations

When I started my law firm less than a year ago, I had a one year plan, a five year plan, and a ten year plan. The one year plan was aggressive but achievable. The five year plan even more aggressive. And the ten year plan had the sky as the limit. I think when you are thinking about starting your law firm and trying to determine what you can expect (and I'm talking about money for the most part here), I think it's important to manage expectations. It is really easy for the math to get out of hand in your head, and disappoint you early.

For example, at my law firm, one of my goals is to keep costs low. I currently do, and probably always will, share office space (in the future I'd actually like to own an office building, but that's very far down the road). It helps to spread out costs among several businesses. I have a very streamlined approach to everything I do. I don't spend a bunch of money on marketing that doesn't work. I am constantly evaluating the need and efficiency of our methods.

Because of that, right now my business expenses hover around $2,500 a month. Most of it is parking and rent ($1,000). That makes it really easy for me to, theoretically, make money. One DUI case is a minimum of $2,500. That means if I sign up more than one case a month, I'm starting to make some pretty significant money.

When you think about it like that, thinking about how to start a law firm becomes pretty easy. You just open up shop and the money comes in, right? Well, when you get out there in the real world, you begin to realize there are barriers to your mountain of riches. Those primarily consist of the myriad of other attorneys out there trying to do the same thing you are, and the fact that most of those attorneys have multiple years in the marketplace that you are trying to catch up on.

It's not impossible, though, to break through those barriers. Honestly, it's not even hard. But it does take a little bit of time. It takes time to market your law firm. It takes time to get people to your office. It takes time to gain the market share you want to have the kind of success you want.

If you don't keep those expectations tempered during the early months, and sometimes years, of your practice, you can easily be discouraged. What separates the successful new law firm owners from those that just get by or fail is they don't sit in the office when the phone isn't ringing and schedule that next networking luncheon with all the other unsuccessful attorneys.

They don't continue to read blogs and articles on starting a successful law firm. They do. They get out there and get their hands dirty. They write blogs instead of read them. They market on the internet. They market to their ideal customer. They do whatever it takes to get to where they want to go.

As you begin, or continue, on your journey to starting a law firm, remember this - there is a boatload of money out there for you; there is a boatload of job satisfaction out there for you; and there is a boatload of personal satisfaction out there for you. But, like most anything else, you have to work for it. We live in a great country, but it's dog eat dog out there. So, stop wasting time, stop reading these articles, and get to work!

Fixate on clothing

The door was answered by a woman wearing a square-necked smock dress with a ruched hem. It was light brown with cream details and a subtle floral pattern; the stitching, although perhaps not as durable as it could be, was of a good standard and the general impression was of a high-quality garment, albeit one with a limited lifespan. Her shoes were blunt-toed black leather low-heel pumps, stylish yet comfortable and projecting an air of casual professionalism. Her cardigan was a loose-knit off-white woollen number, available from all good retailers.

‘Is this 57 The Birches?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s next door.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ I said. I walked up the drive and then down the garden path of the house next door. I rang the bell. After a few seconds, the door was answered by a man in an argyle sweater with grey and blue patterning, the collar of his shirt protruding from the neck...