Ernie Witham Blogs: My Post-SBWC 2011 Post

Recently, I found myself at a wine and cheese party held beside the beautiful Hotel Mar Monte pool on Cabrillo Boulevard, mingling with dozens of Santa Barbara Writers Conference students, workshop leaders and agents. Some were gathered in small groups talking about recent workshops. "What'd you think about Poetry?"

"To say it was exhilarating seems trite at best."

"Say? Didn't I see you in the 'Creating Exciting Dialog' workshop?"

"Yup."

"How was the supernatural/horror/science fiction workshop?"

"Shh.  'They' may be listening."

Meanwhile, writers seeking publication were pitching ideas and agents were ducking -- er fielding -- them as fast as they could.

"I'm writing the definitive book on bricks."

"Sounds heavy. Here's my card."

"I'm working on a travel book about Canada."

"Great, where abouts do you live?"

"Hoboken, New Jersey."

"Perfect, here's my card."

"My mother thinks my novel is the greatest Slovenian love story ever told."

"Good niche. Here's my card."

I think I blew it though when an agent sidled up to me at the bar and asked me what I was working on and I said: "I think it's merlot."

But I wasn't really there to sell something that could make me richer than Donald Trump's ex-wives and more famous than Anthony Weiner's weiner. I was there to conduct a humor workshop to help people think and write funnier so they could eventually put me out of a job. I was also there to teach them the discipline they need in order to become more prolific writers…

"What are you looking for?" my wife asked.

"Inspiration," I said.

"Well, don't leave your head in the refrigerator too long. It defeats the purpose of having energy-efficient appliances, plus you end up smelling like leftover stir fry and driving the neighborhood dogs crazy. Besides aren't you supposed to be writing your post-writers-conference column?"

"It's not due until Friday."

"Today's Saturday."

Dang. I grabbed a block of cheese and a couple beers to put me in a writer's conference state of mind and headed back to my office. Part of the problem is that so much happens in one week at the SBWC that it's a bit overwhelming and hard to process. But if there is one lesson I have learned over the years and try to share with my students, it's focus. That's the difference between finishing a project you've been working on since telephones hung on walls and not finishing.

"I'm going to go grab some lunch," my wife yelled from the other room. "I know you're busy writing… Okay, so I guess you want to go too?"

"Just trying to pay more attention to you dear. Don't want to become one of those reclusive writers you hear about, locked in their own room for days at a time."

"You've only been in your office five minutes, though I see you did manage to finish off a pound of imported cheddar."

I tossed my sweats in the corner, slipped on my shoes and headed for the car.

"Not that it's cold out, but you may want to put on some pants."

"Good point."

Speaking of points that's another one I strive to make to my students – humor is in the details. It's often the little things that others overlook but humor writers notice that make the difference between fun and funny.

"The specials sound good," my wife said.

"What specials?"

"The ones on the first page."

"What first page?"

As we were waiting for our lunches to arrive I thought of another thing to mention in my post-writers-conference column. It came up after listening to the third funny tale of trying to fit into today's women's underwear styles. This one was actually written by a woman but a bit wordy. I told students rewriting often meant paring things down to the bare minimum.

"Are you going to eat all of that?" my wife asked.

I looked at the two platters, three bowls and a mug that was going to take two hands to lift. "You know my motto: 'Live well, write often.'"

"Hm. You know I think the name of your next book should be "Do as I say, not as I do."

"Ha-ha," I said, sarcastically, but inwardly I was already preparing my pitch for next year's agent party.

Read more writing humor in my latest book: "A Year in the Life of a 'Working' Writer"

http://www.erniesworld.com/

How to Turn Travel Memories into Travel Stories

by Jerry Camarillo Dunn, Jr. Here’s a useful technique for all kinds of writing, although it works particularly well for the travel genre.

Close your eyes. It’s dark now, like being in a theater when the lights go down. See the white screen inside your head and let it fill with a mental movie of a scene or incident from your travels. As the scene envelops you and details grow sharper, look around. What’s nearby?

Remember, your mind has not only an eye, but also an ear, a nose, and skin to take in what’s around you. Listen to people’s voices (kids giggling? cab drivers arguing?), smell the air (roses? diesel fumes?), see colors (sand, watermelon), and feel sensations (the Greek sun burning the tops of your bare feet).

When the movie ends – and it will naturally just fade out – it’s time to capture your impressions. Without coming out of your quiet state of recollection, jot down phrases that describe what you experienced, capturing the details before they fade. Later, these impressions will help you create a scene for your story.

Here’s an example from an article I wrote early in my career for the “Los Angeles Times” travel section, about buying inexpensive air tickets in Bangkok:

We were standing in front of “K. King’s Made-to-Order Suits and Travel Agency – Once Tried, Ever Trusted” at 119 Sukhumvit Road, quietly melting away in the sun like sticks of butter, when a round Sikh with black eyes and an electric blue turban leaned out of his shop.

“You want cheapest air fare?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up and down suggestively like Groucho Marx’s. “Come in, come in! Call me Jimmy . . .”

My job as a travel writer was to make this encounter in Thailand come to life for the reader. To accomplish this, I mentally replayed my memory “movie,” wrote down the details, and employed them in writing the scene.

Here’s a promise: Use this technique, and you’ll soon be writing travel stories so real they jump off the page – and into the reader’s head.

Jerry Camarillo Dunn, Jr. teaches the SBWC travel writing workshop. His work has received three Lowell Thomas Awards, the “Oscars” of the field, from the Society of American Travel Writers.

Memoirs, Truth, Opinion

by Rebecca Robins

The New York Times mentioned recently that a slight brouhaha was brewing. After Joyce Carol Oates’ A Widow’s Story, a memoir of her life following the death of her husband of many years, came out, Julian Barnes complained that it was “a breach of narrative promise” for her not to reveal that she’d remarried a little over a year after her first husband’s death.

Ms. Oates, in response, said the book was meant to be about the immediate experience of widowhood, but suggested in future editions, she might add an appendix to bring her story up to date.

Her editor, in response to them both, said Ms. Oates’ memoir was about losing her first husband and her second marriage was inappropriate information because it ruined the integrity of the experience she described.

One book, three opinions, and it got me to thinking about how one chooses what to include in a memoir, and what it means ‘to tell the truth,” something I often say to writers.

What I’ve always meant by that is pretty simple -- you have a choice about what you want to write, but once you make that choice, tell the truth about it if you want your work to have integrity. There is the expression: warts, and all. You get to choose the wart, but once you have that wart on the page, it’s your responsibility to tell the truth about it.

Now I’m pretty sure, given Ms. Oates, that whatever she wrote about her immediate experience was as close to the truth as she was going to get. I am also pretty sure that if she had sifted how she felt immediately after the death of her husband through the filter of her future marriage, it would have distorted the truth of the experience lived. She would have been looking back through a future knowledge she didn’t have when she lived those moments.

But I’m also pretty sure that Mr. Barnes, short listed multiple times for the Man Booker prize, and quite the heavy weight novelist, felt the novelist’s burden to tidy up the story. Even if only the frame he wanted it presented in. But, and this is important, that wasn’t the story Ms. Oates chose to tell.

Just as you have a choice.

If Ms. Oates deprived the world of Mr. Barnes’ narrative promise by her choices, that only meant the world would be in for the satisfaction of a turn of events separate from the text and a little farther down the line -- what, already remarried? -- which, if you think about it, approximates more closely for the reader the sequential experience of the two separate events: widowhood and remarriage.

It really is your story. You get to choose.

Santa Barbara Born Novel Returns Home

by Zoe Ghahremani When I exchanged a dental practice in Chicago for a typewriter in California, I had already finished the first drafts of two novels. It was hard to believe that from then on, writing would be my life and that I no longer had to search for a free moment to do what I had always believed was my vocation.

I enrolled in workshops and extension classes at UCSD to make sure I was on the right track, but it wasn’t until I joined SBWC that I became a committed writer. Ten years ago, I packed my manuscripts, sharpened my pencil and drove to Santa Barbara. Having lived at home during college, Westmont was my first real "college experience." As a mother of two college kids and having taught at Northwestern, I was familiar with dorm rooms, cafeteria food, and lines of students waiting to use the computer room. How alluring were those scenes now that I was once again the student.

I had no idea as to which of the many workshops and classes would be best to attend, but soon realized that it didn’t really matter. After sitting in a couple of classes I knew that I’d benefit from each and every one offered. By the second day, I had met students of all ages, who had come from around the country. Some of those friendships have lasted to this day and their support and camaraderie has seen me through years of struggle. It was one such friend, who encouraged me to stay up at night and join one of the “pirate workshops.”

That night, a few hours after dinner, using the flashlight she had brought along, we walked through the wooded campus to the to east side and entered the den of ‘pirate writers.’ People of all ages sat wherever they could find a seat and their conversation filled the large room with a pleasant buzz. Shelly Lowenkopf was in a wing chair at the top of the room. I knew his name because I had pre-submitted a portion of my manuscript for his preview. He was busy talking, a large dog at his feet.

A young girl held a clipboard and went around to take down names. When she reached me, I wrote mine and had no idea that was the list of volunteers who’d read that night. Looking back, I recall many of those writers’ names, including some who were already established, such as Monte Schulz, and am amazed that I had found the courage to read a few paragraphs. It was the first time I read my Sky of Red Poppies to a crowd and I felt as if I had just revealed my biggest secret to complete strangers.

Throughout that first conference, a Mark Twain quote echoed in my mind. "Don’t let schooling interfere with your education." I was determined to receive the education that my schooling had deprived me of. My writer’s life had just begun and SBWC was at Westmont College to make sure I was educated. I had arrived with a bag full of rough drafts and a heart heavy with uncertainty. Little did I know that on the drive home I would carry enough hope to see me through years of hard work.

The legendary Ray Bradbury taught me to seek knowledge in the library, Shelly Lowenkopf said, "You were born a writer." Sid Stebel found the point where my story should begin, and John Daniel helped me to hone my prose. Yvonne Nelson Perry taught me to be "visceral". Later, she also made sure I understood punctuation. "You’re allowed ONE exclamation mark per lifetime!" Her loving, caring ways helped me to pass a few more steppingstones long after the conference. Marla Miller taught me to speak up and present myself. And so it was that at the conclusion of the following conference they called my name and I walked upstage to Cork Milner and received my first award for "Excellence In Writing."

After a short absence I now return to Santa Barbara, but this time I’m not empty handed. My born-in-Santa-Barbara novel is going back with me to celebrate its triumph over obstacles such as education, motherhood, career, even age. There is much to learn and many more books to write, but this time I won’t simply absorb and dream. In a way, I envy the newcomers because what is now an expectation to me will be a most pleasant surprise for them.

Too many teachers and fellow students have touched my life and I won’t ever be able to thank them all. So I hope they hear me when I say, "I’m bringing you the first harvest of the seeds you sowed, Santa Barbara Writers Conference, because Sky of Red Poppies is as much your novel as it is mine. "

The Myth of Loneliness

by Shelly Lowenkopf

Among the many myths associated with the activity of being a professional writer, none is so epidemic and fraught as loneliness. I’ve heard some writers and want-to-be writers go so far as to construct an entire calculus in which the degree of authorial depth of skill is directly related to the agony of loneliness a writer suffers.

He or she who is gregarious, has a life filled with friends, the myth goes, is doomed to a life of rejection slips or, at best, a choice spot on the remainder table. It takes a trail of broken relationships and estrangements to make it to the backlist of the publisher’s catalog; nothing short of a hermit-like existence and shabby personal habits gets the writer a choice spot on the frontlist.

Bologna. The sausage, rather than the city.

Most writers would give up their latest bug-free edition of Microsoft Word or iPages for more time apart and, indeed, this becomes one of the reasons why writers who do manage to get time away from friends, family, and associates for composing their latest work often have reputations for being inconsiderate, uncaring, and cold. Some writers—amazing persons—have learned to manage their work while babies or mates are napping. Others still have found ways to turn off the individuals in their surroundings and work in spite of not being lonely, wishing all the time for loneliness.

Not far down from loneliness on the Ten Things You Thought You Knew about Being a Writer is the idiotic trope that writing books, short stories, essays, and op-ed pieces presents the writer with the freedom of choice and expression dictated by their own conscience and creative self. This may work for the dilettante or hobbyist, otherwise—welcome to the world of publishing, where there are literary agents, acquisitions editors, content editors and copyeditors, not to mention publishers, salespersons, and publicists. Each of these worthies has a semblance of a career tacked on to what you propose to do, and don’t you forget it.

Good luck finding a literary agent who will represent you when all you wish to do is write short stories and the occasional prose poem (whatever the hell that might be.) Better luck yet with getting a manuscript into type without “notes” from an editor or that bugbear for consistency of usage, the copy editor.

Unless, of course, you chose to self-publish. Some possibilities of loneliness for you when you take your self-published work into a book store, or show it to a literary agent, or do manage to buy your way into a “book tour” in which you address potential audiences in strange venues that seem to attract large crowds of motorcycle tourists.

Writing is one of the least lonely of activities. When you hear a writer complaining of the time spent in isolation, away from his or her fellow humans, devoid of the human foibles that so infuse writing with heart and content, it is because he or she—that very filer of the indictment of loneliness—wants your ear to complain about the injustices visited from reviewers, agents, editors, booksellers.

Even if you have not come close to approaching the plateau of stature you wish in your writing, the mere fact of you being on the learning curve will have the effect of lifting a rock after a rainstorm. Individuals, some of them complete strangers to you, will be only too glad to send you their latest work for a reading, or perhaps you have some pointers for their son, daughter, husband, cousin, who also wishes to join the community of writing voices.

If you are serious about wishing to forge a career in writing, you will experience many things, ranging from abject humiliation to those embarrassing moments of being congratulated for books you did not write nor have any wish to write, to flights of the sheer satisfaction a bird must feel when a thermal provides it a lift skyward or a dog feels when its nose wraps around an intriguing scent. But lonely? Not likely.

June Newsletter

Nine days left until opening night at the Santa Barbara Writers Conference 2011! It’s almost time to look up from our keyboards and be reminded of the community of writers ready once more to get together for a week of hard work, inspiration, and lots of smiles. The conference is filling up; we’ve got 20 spots left, if you can believe it. Don’t wait until the last week to sign up!

Good News: Hotel Mar Monte is celebrating their 80th Anniversary, and to celebrate all lunches and dinners at the hotel will be 25% off during the week of the conference. Yum!

The Graphic Novel Panel is scheduled for Tuesday June 21st at 4pm. Panelists include: Joyce Farmer, Sammy Harkham, and Tim Hensley. Joyce’s graphic novel, Special Exits, was recently awarded the National Cartoonists Society Award.

Announced at BEA in NY: Writers and Their Notebooks, an anthology workshop leader Diana Raab compiled and edited with a Foreword by Phillip Lopate, won the 2011 Eric Hoffer Award.

Sad News: For the first time in 39 years, Ray Bradbury will not be joining us at the Santa Barbara Writers Conference due to complications with his health. Ray has attended every SBWC since it’s beginning 1972 and has inspired hundreds of writers with his talks on love and writing. In Ray’s place, Clive Cussler will speak on opening night.

If you’ve been wondering, What is the pirate workshop? Check out this video (Thanks, Lisa Angle!). For those of you pirate veterans, you’ll enjoy this, too.:

MUSEOLOGY 101

by Mary Hershey

If you want creative help from your muse, here’s an important insider secret. Start working first. It’s a lesson that I forget at least two to five times a week. Muses, turns out, are agents of the active, not the idle. In order to lure one to your table, your canvas, your novel, poem or blog, roll up your sleeves and get to work. Dive, doodle, journal, collage, whatever— enter boldly into the world of artistic expression. Then, just watch and wait to see what happens! Quite often, NOTHING. (Whaa-a-a-t!) That’s right. Sometimes you sit for hours and end up with nothing newer than a raging red hangnail. So you stop, and then try again the next day. Nada. A recorded message plays close to your ear. “All Muses are busy, please stay on the line for the next available goddess.” The minutes, hours, days tick away and your hangnail has now born several offspring. Still, nothing. At this point, I want you to congratulate yourself for being an artist, a writer, and a laborer. Way to go. Just keep showing up. But you might want to put some gloves on. Those hangnails are getting scary. Some writers (as in ME) expect muses to be gentle, encouraging, effusive, beautiful, devoted, lavish, at your service, day or night. Picture Meryl Streep on a deep velvet chaise sipping Hibiscus tea spouting poetry and prose. In this vision, the lovely muse serves as the true speaker, and you only a mouthpiece. This is how it should work, right? The muse that I’ve been assigned looks like actress Kathy Bates in a ketchup-stained waitress uniform with a nametag that reads Wanda. When it comes to our partnership, she wants to roll out of her support hose, put her feet up, and give me a hard time. I’ve tried to turn her back in for a kinder model, but no dice. Turns out we each get issued one muse, and it’s a “for better for worse till death do you part kind of thing.” According to the Pausanias (I think they’re from Jersey), there were three original Muses: Aoide representing song and voice, Melete of practice or occasion, and Mneme, goddess of memory. Together these three make up a complete picture of the preconditions of poetic art. In later times, additional Muses joined the team and each was assigned their own field of patronage. Enter Calliope (Chief Muse), Euterpe, Clio, Erato, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia and Urania. If these chicks wanted another gig, they could make a truly sick (as in completely cool) all girl band, don’t you think? Why the herstory lesson? I’m moving toward my important point at lightning speed now. These poor goddesses are bone tired. You try being in charge of charge of comedy, epic song, or bucolic poetry for a few thousand years! It is really exhausting work. I forget when it was exactly— sometime after their big project with Milton’s PARADISE LOST, they unionized. They’d had enough! Channeling their gifts day after day, only to net a small byline, if any, in all the great works of literature. The Allied Muse & Goddess Union (AMGU) sets standards and guidelines for their collaborations with artists and writers. Beck and call work is strictly forbidden. Direct channeling allowed under certain conditions. Missed appointments are costly. Repeat missed appointments may be fatal. Muses must be treated with the proper god-like respect at all times. Gum popping in the presence of a muse is forbidden. Only Calliope and Euterpe, the muses of epic and lyric song, will allow iPods during a session. Artists must keep their own creative wells filled. Muses will not work in a room where handhelds, or cell phones are left on. And there you have it, Museology 101. Now get to work. Show up. Keep your tank filled. Shut out the distractions. Hydrate. Easy on the caffeine. Breathe. Stay in a place of gratitude for your gift, however raw it might be at this point. Show the muses you mean business. Who knows? You might get a good one! And if you do, uh, mind if I borrow her?

Mary Hershey is an author for children and young adults and a certified Personal & Executive Coach. Her first book My Big Sister is So Bossy She Says You Can’t Read this Book was published by Random House in 2005. Her three subsequent books have equally long titles that barely fit on the book spine. She has a very nice editor that doesn’t mind one bit.

The Lonely Writer’s Companion

by Lisa Lenard-Cook

How Do You Get Yourself to Your Desk?

E. B. White circled his office, straightening the pictures on the wall until the work waiting on his desk demanded his attention. Toni Morrison, a mother of three, set her alarm and brewed a strong pot of coffee so she could work before the kids got up—and continues to do so even though those kids are grown. Victor Hugo had his valet hide his clothes, forcing him to stay in his office until the day’s work was done.

Whether much-published or new to the trade, every writer has a ritual for getting to the desk. I do a lot of desk-rearranging (much of it now on the MacBook, of course) before I sneak a look at what I’m working on. I tell myself I’ll just read a few paragraphs. Then, before I know it, I’m once again immersed in the work itself.

Why such elaborate ruses? Because good writing (and by good, I mean writing that connects with readers) is a daily exercise in psychic terror. In From Where You Dream, Robert Olen Butler asserts that our daily practice requires us to delve deep into the darkest recesses of our memories, to go to the dark places where the best writing resides. No wonder we need rituals to help us.

What gets you to the desk? Do you have a pre-writing ritual?

(This article was originally published as The Lonely Writer’s Companion on Authorlink.com)

The Anthropology of Travel Writing

by Jerry Camarillo Dunn, Jr.

To discourage lions, the mud huts of the Masai were surrounded by a fence of thorns. As our little safari of Americans and Europeans approached, the village headman padded out to greet us. His bare feet slapped the ground, his soles as furrowed as the African earth.

The headman held up two fingers, like Winston Churchill's "victory" sign. Was this a universal signal of political leadership? A tribal gesture of welcome?

"Two dollars American!" said the chief. "Each person."

Aha! It was the universal sign of tourism. Apparently, we weren't the first foreigners to happen upon the village. Inside the fence, tall Masai women lined up at elegant attention, each face framed by beaded earrings and necklaces for sale. Warriors held out their spears: "Good price!" Because we were far from Kenya's tourist centers, I was surprised to find this very modern situation: native people living their lives, yet charging admission.

In the village I gained some perspective from another visitor, Valene Smith, a vacationing California anthropologist who studies the effects that tourists have on the cultures they visit. She said her field was "the anthropology of tourism"—a phrase that forever altered my way of seeing things. Adopting the attitude of a field researcher, I observed a traditional people poised at a crossroads, the place where pastoral African life meets western commercialism. A few head-on collisions were inevitable. As a travel writer, how could I ease the impact? I also had new questions about myself and my fellow tourists. Why did we want to return to Ohio or New York City dressed up like Masai warriors and trying to carry spears through airport customs?

Looking at the world through the eyes of an anthropologist brought me a new viewpoint -- ideas I would use when I wrote a cover story about my travels in Africa for National Geographic Traveler magazine.

Jerry Camarillo Dunn, Jr. recently received the 2011 Gold Award for Best Travel Column from the Society of American Travel Writers, the nation's most prestigious association of travel journalists, photographers, and editors. The competition was organized by the society's western chapter.

The contest judge, Travel Editor Emeritus for Gannett Newspapers, said: "This is my idea of what a travel column can be at its best. 'The Curious Traveler' is a captivating mix of knowledge and information with a personal, conversational voice. The writer seems to know his topics like the back of his hand . . . "

Jerry's latest book is My Favorite Place On Earth (published by the National Geographic Society). It features 75 celebrated people -- ranging from the Dalai Lama to Natalie Portman -- talking about the places they love most. For more info, a complete list of names and places, and an excerpt from SBWC legend Ray Bradbury: www.myfavoriteplacenatgeo.com

From Bad to Worse

by Cork Milner, Creative Nonfiction Workshop Leader. Don’t be misled by the work of great authors. You don’t have to be a fine literary author to be a selling writer. You see, literary writers labor for immortality; selling writers don’t have the time.  Here’s a few lines of scrambled syntax in a novel by mega-seller Nora Roberts:  “Her breath came in pants.”

Also in the same best-selling bodice ripper is this slice of purple prose: “His mouth all but savaged hers ripping down her gut with one jagged and panicked thrill.”

John Grishom is not impervious to fractured syntax. In his novel, The Testament he writes: “Breakfast was a quick roll with butter on the deck.”

Then there is this: “Suddenly the door opened slowly.”

And this: “Ed panicked and turned when he heard a low, menacing voice coming from his rear.”

A Tennessee newspaper carried this hot news item: “Relatives of 87-year old Clara Bell Web said today she continued to operate the tiny downtown grocery store where she was killed Saturday, more or less to have something to do.”

A Family Reunion

by Matt Pallamary – Phantastic Fiction workshop leader

I attended my first Santa Barbara Writer’s Conference back in nineteen-eighty-eight and after a rocky start, became immersed in a family that quickly made me one of their own.  I don’t think my personality had anything to do with the kindness that I received.  I think it was the fact that I was a dedicated and obsessed writer – just like my brothers and sisters of the Santa Barbara Writer’s Conference who adopted me.

(Editors note: click on the photos below to see them full size with identifications.)

Back then the SBWC was held at the now legendary Miramar Hotel.  I went up as a nobody, and on one of my first mornings there I had the joy and honor of having breakfast with Charles “Sparky” Schulz and his charming wife Jeannie.  What struck me back then on that magical day, was that here I was having breakfast with one of the greatest if not THE greatest comic strip artists of all time who I had followed all of my life, and we spent two or three hours talking about ME!  Here was Sparky with all of his accomplishments and he was most interested in me!  He was not only interested, but encouraging and supportive and I was completely blown away.

I went to Shelley Lowenkopf’s infamous pirate workshops and met and connected with Sparky’s son Monte, who now owns the conference, as well as Catherine Ryan Hyde, Jane St. Clair, and a number of other dedicated writers.  This is where I started to get into trouble because, I went to the pirates and did all the other day workshops as well as listen to all the keynoters, so by mid-week I was a physical and emotional wreck.  On top of that I got turned down by a seemingly promising agent, and I was a basket case for the rest of the week.

First hard lesson learned – pace your self!

By the end of the conference San Diego based workshop leader Joan Oppenheimer, took me under her wing and invited me to join her writing group.  I met John Ritter and a few other cool writers that first week at SBWC and he and they were already members of Joan’s group, so I joined her weekly workshops and got my skills sharpened.

I did not intend to go to the SBWC my second year because I could not afford it, but Joan and a great friend Lynne Ford sponsored me because they said that they believed in me.  In my second year Sid Stebel took me under his wing and mentored me and his mentorship soon turned into friendship.  When my first published work, The Small Dark Room of the Soul came out, Sid in his generous and supportive spirit went to bat for me and asked Ray Bradbury for a blurb for my book.  Ray came through, adding to my list of wonderful friends and mentors.  What an honor to be with these folks.  I also connected with Abe Polsky, who mentored me and has become a great and supportive friend, and I connected with Laura Taylor in Phyllis Gebauer’s workshop, starting an enduring friendship.

I was a regular in Shelley Lowenkopf’s pirate workshop with Monte and Catherine and read an opening to a horror novel one night and watched Shelley out of the corner of my eye scribbling away.  I thought it was going pretty good, but I felt a bit apprehensive until Shelley stopped me, stood up and read off all the adverbs I had used.

Second hard lesson learned – kill them adverbs!

To top off that magical year, which I had not planned on, I won a fiction award for a short horror story I had written.

There was not much for horror, fantasy and science fiction people back in those days, so a couple of Science fiction/ Fantasy writers asked me to lead an unofficial workshop that was sanctioned by the conference and to our delight it was a hit.

When then directors Paul Lazarus, Mary, and Barnaby Conrad heard it was well attended they asked me if I would lead one officially the next year and I was ecstatic.  Mother Superior, Mary Conrad welcomed and treated me with the best love and attention anyone could ever ask for and I indeed felt like family.

Chuck Champlin, the class act that he is, had his own workshop back then.  After teaching his, he came and checked out my workshop and we became fast friends.  I miss the time I spent talking with him about film, literature and all things literary.

I know I was the youngest workshop leader for something like fifteen years.  It’s been twenty three years now and I am graying so I have no doubt that I have lost my youngest status,  but something else wonderful happened as a result of this.  My mentors who I looked up to, respected, and admired had suddenly become my colleagues.  What great company to be in.  This was my writing family who made me one of their own.

I know I have helped the conference, especially Barnaby Conrad because he would get manuscripts in and see them as weird and say, “This is weird, give it to Matt Pallamary, he’s the weirdo.” -- And I rose to the occasion.

My workshop has been going on for over twenty years now and I have a number of regulars who add to its energy and success.  My longest standing attendee is Lorelei Armstrong, who I call my “Princess of Darkness”.  I don’t think Lorelei has missed any of my workshops and I can count on her to zero in – in fact, more often than not, I have my critique made up in my mind, then Lorelei opens her mouth and my critique comes out!

I am happy that Monte, who goes back to the roots of the conference, has brought it back to life and I am very much looking forward to the family reunion that is coming this June.

WWW.MATTPALLAMARY.COM

At the Heart of Story Is Craft

by Dale Griffiths Stamos

To be a writer, like any other kind of artist, is to be addicted to your art.  It is also to be a soul excavator,  to be a little crazy, to stare the odds in the face and persist anyway, but more than anything, it’s to put in the work.  The hard, steady, often inspired, but also intensely thought-out process of crafting a piece of fiction (or non fiction) from beginning to end.

I use the word “craft” purposefully.  Good writing, to be most effective, does not just come from interesting characters, strong dialogue, or vivid descriptions, no matter how well expressed.  Those elements, as important as they are, must be placed within a dramatic story structure driven by powerful internal and external forces of desire and opposition that drive the story to an inevitable conclusion.  Making all of this come together in just the right way is not easy, but it is your job as a writer to make it look easy.  Or rather, to so absorb your reader (or your audience) in the story, that all the structure and technique you used to tell your tale will fall away like so much invisible scaffolding.  But make no mistake, without that scaffolding, you have no story.

In our class on Story Structure, we cut to the heart of story, your story.  We help you find the elements of story that already exist in your work, discover those that don’t, and strengthen and clarify these elements to make your work a compelling read.

Keep in mind that craft is not a dry intellectual process.  It is an evolving transliteration of ideas, emotions, and deep-felt truths into powerful dramatic form.  It is the use of story technique, which has been around since the beginning of time, to touch the universal in all of us.

A Place for Poetry

by Perie Longo

A seventh grade student of mine once wrote:

If all writing is a picnic basket then poetry is the chocolate cake.

How delicious to be returning to SBWC after a two year hiatus, looking forward to a delicious feast of seeing old friends and meeting new ones. Just now, lines spring up from a poem by Linda Pastan titled “A New Poet.”

Finding a new poet is like finding a new wildflower out in the woods.

its leaves grow in splayed rows down the whole length of the page. In fact the very page smells of spilled

red wine and the mustiness of the sea on a foggy day—the odor of truth and of lying.

That’s an interesting last stanza, considering Santa Barbara’s June gloom and the sea at our feet. Good writing weather, for sure. We do a share of that in my workshop, but our main focus is on taming the poems you bring, getting them ready for publication. And about “truth and lying”, read Richard Hugo’s The Triggering Town. He says if you’re writing about your blue house and it works better for the poem to make it yellow, make it yellow! Memory is fuzzy at best and poetry is more about what we see on reflection than accuracy of fact.

On the subject of editing, I heard Linda Pastan give a reading in Washington DC some years ago and she said she edited her poems thirty-nine times, and Ted Kooser said he edited his fifty! Often poets think suggestions for editing means their poems aren’t any good. Nothing could be further from the truth. Back to the chocolate cake metaphor, editing is a way to look at the ingredients and turn the poem into a seamless moment that slips easily onto the tongue to end not with a whimper, but a bang, or a deep sigh! It’s not about the number of times we edit (i.e. commas in, commas out or this word for that word), but being open to seeing what is there, and making more of it.

Please bring ten copies to share. A poem is a visual experience, as well as auditory, and the look of a poem on the page is as important as the structure, language, rhythm, and imagery, to name a few things that are helpful to talk about. Discussion of our poems, and poems of other poets, provides fodder for dialogue about the many aspects of poetry. I’ve always found the wide range of experience of those who attend the workshop provides a great learning experience for all of us. When we become more aware of how to read a poem, to look at how a poet arrives at what we call a “good” poem, we become more astute at editing our own and improving our craft. Often I’m asked, “What makes a good poem?” Or with free verse, “What makes it a poem if it doesn’t rhyme?” Difficult questions not easy to answer, but ones we like to mull. There are probably as many different opinions about that as there are poets and types of poems, which leads to other comments I often hear. “I don’t understand poetry,” and “Why would anyone write poetry if it doesn’t make any money?” To that question I might reply, “Because it makes me happy.” Poetry is a natural expression that links us to each other, heart to heart, in many profound ways, and helps us understand what it is to be human. Poetry exists in all genres of writing. Focusing on fresh language and voice is the domain of all who take pen to paper or finger to computer. We live for words. As Pablo Neruda wrote in his Memoirs:

I love words so much…The unexpected ones…The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop… Vowels I love…They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are foam, thread, metal, dew…I run after certain words…They are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem…I catch them in mid- flight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives…And then I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them, I let them go…

Happy writing, and see you soon at the Mar Monte!

Song, Story, and Orwell

by Rebecca Robins

This week I was reading a review of a book discussing protest songs, and as the reviewer, Sean Wilentz, tried to explain why one song soared while another failed, I was struck by how the same sort of distinctions apply to memoir. Why one soars and why another doesn’t.

The difference? The songs that worked were the ones that came from those who spoke directly from the experience of their soul. The ones that didn’t? They spoke from somewhere outside themselves.

Sometimes the most difficult thing is to know what you really want to say, not what you think you should have thought or said, but just flat out, the truth of your experience, how you faced it, what you did, how you changed, or didn’t.

George Orwell is one of our best non-fiction writers. Some of his most effective writing came out of his time working in India and Burma where he found himself involved in situations in which the powerless were treated in cruel and unjust ways. Many of his essays of this time were his protest songs.

His technique is worth studying if you are serious about working in non-fiction or memoir in particular. He used himself: his sense of history, his narrative commentary, and his reflections to tell the truth of how an intelligent civilized compassionate man, in this instance Orwell, confesses to being reduced to an angry embittered soul. In this way he became the narrator whose very presence in the story was the indictment. I was there.

At his best, Orwell’s narrating self knows that his obligation is to use himself, as it should be yours, to make clear what he felt and did and how he changed. If he loses track of who he is, if he falls back on rationalizations and old assumptions and stops looking clearly and honestly at each situation he finds himself in, he will no longer be writing from his soul. The story will stop telling his truth. It will no longer soar .

In the same way, it will be your experience, your perspective and your personality, along with the discipline to keep it fully present on the page, that will lead you to the truth of your story.

Dare to Be Personal

by Catherine Ann Jones

When television producer, Martha Williamson, asked me to write for her hit series, Touched by an Angel, I said I preferred to make up my original stories. So she asked me to make up a few and pitch them to her. She told me that if she did not like any of my stories, she would give me a story to write. I pitched nine original stories, and the one she chose for me to write first was the only one of the nine that was inspired by an incident from my own life. I was psychic as a child and would often tune out and listen to inner music, so my teacher thought I might be hard of hearing. This diagnosis began a series of doctors and examinations to find out what was wrong with me. Of course, nothing was wrong. I was simply creatively entering into my own world. So this was the starting point for what became the episode, A Joyful Noise. It is about a little girl who hears angels singing and is sent to a psychiatrist to rid her of her voices. In the end, it is the psychiatrist who is changed by the little girl and her angels. Olympia Dukakis plays an archangel in this episode. This was one of Oprah’s favorites -- she once screened a clip on her weekly television show. So, the moral is: dare to be personal.

What is the emotional personal thread from your own life which can be woven into your story? Answer this, and you will have the key to meaning for yourself as the writer as well as for the audience, who will identify with your feeling. It is no coincidence that the greatest novels and plays are often inspired by the author’s own family background. Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day Journey into Night, Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie, Boris Pasternak’s Dr. Zhivago, or Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward Angel are all examples of this form of inspiration. Consider fiction no more than disguised autobiography. It need not be literally autobiographical, of course, just emotional autobiographical.

Subjectivity is necessary for all great art. Story is no exception. I will go on record and say that subjective point of view from the writer as well as the subjective response of reader or audience is the most important aspect of any book or movie. This is why sometimes our favorite movies or books are not classics, but simply something we strongly identify with. They hit a nerve. A disaster film depicting a great love story, Titanic became the best selling movie of all time (before James Cameron went animation on us). One of my favorites is Anne of Green Gables about a little girl with too much imagination. Ask yourself what is your favorite book or movie, the one you like to return to, and it may surprise you that it may not be a great classic, but simply the book or movie you love. Craft without art: it works but who cares? The audience must care. Caring sells tickets. We care by identifying with the main character, something within must emotionally connect to our own life.

Once again, dare to be personal.

---

Catherine Ann Jones has played major roles in over fifty productions on and off-Broadway, as well as television (Great Performances, etc.) and film. Disappointed by the lack of good roles for women, she wrote a play about Virginia Woolf (On the Edge) which won a National Endowment for the Arts Award. Ten of her plays, including Calamity Jane (both play and musical) and The Women of Cedar Creek, have won several awards and are produced both in and out of New York. Her films include The Christmas Wife (Jason Robards & Julie Harris), Unlikely Angel (Dolly Parton), Angel Passing (Hume Cronyn & Teresa Wright) which played at Sundance and went on to garner fifteen awards here and abroad, and also the popular TV series, Touched by an Angel.  A Fulbright Scholar to India, she has taught writing at The New School University, University of Southern California, Pacifica Graduate Institute, and the Esalen and Omega Institutes. Ms. Jones is often invited as a keynote speaker to various conferences as Women, Wealth, & Wisdom Conference at UCLA. Ms. Jones lives in Ojai, California, leads The Way of Story and Heal Yourself with Writing workshops throughout the United States, Europe, and Asia. Her book The Way of Story: the craft & soul of writing is used by many schools, including NYU writing programs. For her workshop schedule, online courses, blog, and story/script consultant service please visit www.wayofstory.com.

Lessons from Ketchup

by Shelly Lowenkopf

Ever wondered how words are like ketchup? You haven't? How about a clue? It has nothing to do with the red sauce being America's favorite vegetable. Shelly Lowenkopf shares his insights, culinary and literary. Reprinted from inkbyte.com.

There are times when trying to get words out is like trying to shake ketchup out of the bottle in a truck stop restaurant. Words and ketchup have each congealed, requiring the firm hand of discipline, applied according to Newton's First Law of Motion, in a place where it will do the most good.

There are times when words and ketchup, having been set in motion, spill forth with an audible glop, sending more of each in a cascade toward the intended target.

There are times when the right amount of each commodity come forth in seemingly smooth flow, but these times are rare, at least with me, lingering not so much as goals or even memories but rather as abstracts, ideals to be sought after as the Holy Grail was sought after, as the Maltese falcon was sought after, as the philosopher's stone was dreamed of.

Much of the time there are no words or insufficient words, words ringing with insincerity or the metallic tang of ignorance, just as there are places where ketchup is not looked upon with favor, where the very mention of it is enough to produce wrinkles of facial disapproval or, worse, wrinkles of brows, suggesting ketchup is déclassé.

Not to forget the times where there are too many words, carrying their meaning and even their intent on a metaphoric journey demonstrated in fact by the appearance of too much ketchup on a steak or side of fries. Any amount of ketchup on eggs is an entirely more serious transgression in the eyes of many.

Some of us go through the warp and woof of our days, trying to keep the orderly movement of words and ketchup in some balance, some enough-but-not-too-much formula. The serious study of words is help, keeping a tendency toward too many or too few in a healthy presence. Thanks to fast food and convenience-food restaurants, small amounts of ketchup are stored in foil or plastic packets.

How many words are enough? How much ketchup on, say, an order of French fries is enough? How many words are required to cause the eyes of the listener to glaze over, a sure sign of surfeit? How much ketchup is enough to dress French fries or serve as an adjunct to a steak?

Words in proper combination and with proper delivery can selectively attract, repel, anger, embarrass, explain, entertain, inspire. Ketchup can season, splatter, stain, make gurgling noises; even worse, ketchup can disgust. A washed-out ketchup bottle can serve as an emergency bud vase. Washed-out words don't help much with anything.

We can come to terms with words, eventually, but there are those who will never come to terms with ketchup.

(Copyright 2011, Shelly Lowenkopf)

Richard Walter: Hollywood Trends—A Recipe for Frustration and Failure in the Movie Business

The biggest mistake a writer can make is to pay attention to Hollywood trends. By Richard Walter

What is the trend today in Hollywood?

I'm standing smack-dab in the middle of the town and haven't a clue. As in algebra, however, let's say that there is a trend and let's call that trend 'X'.

It's too late to get in on that trend for the simple reason that it is the trend. If it is the trend today, it had to be in the pipe at least a year ago, and much more likely two or three or more years ago. To cash in on that trend by writing a script geared to it is to guarantee that by the time you go to market it's already old news, stale, pale, and so last year.

During a strike years ago, since no one could market to the studios, a huge pile of spec scripts were written by writers, some of them well established. The idea was to have the scripts ready to sell after the strike. When the strike finally settled, there was a flood of cop-buddy police action melodramas, which appeared to be the trend at the time the strike started. Two writers well known to me and the community, however, a husband-wife writing team, wrote a spec script representing the kind of movie nobody was making at the time: a period piece, a historical costume drama. Happily for them, it stood out above the rash of police thrillers. It caught the imagination and attention of studios and producers first of all because it was not merely another cop action melodrama. It promptly sold for a substantial price. In the meantime, dozens, indeed scores, perhaps hundreds of cop thrillers went into the shredder.

Perhaps twenty years ago I advised my screenwriting seminar commandos at UCLA not to outsmart themselves by trying to figure out the latest trend. I suggested they write the dumbest script they could think of. At that time nobody was buying or making westerns, and so I advised them to write a western. When it was ready it would be the only such item and, therefore, attract attention.

One of the students took me up on this suggestion and wrote a hilarious comedy set in the American west after the Civil War. Not a gunslinger but a painter makes his way west, hauling a wagon of artist's supplies: canvases, tubes of pigment, linseed oil and turpentine, brushes, a pallet and the like. New towns are springing up across the landscape and each has a brand new saloon, and every saloon needs a naked lady above the bar. Our protagonist arrives in one town and then the next, paints a naked lady to hang above the bar, and in exchange receives room and board from the owner, plus provisions to enable him to continue his journey.

At one town the mayor is a Victorian-style prude, who doesn't think there should be pictures of naked ladies in the saloon or anywhere else. He is particularly disturbed by the portrait of the naked lady painted above the bar in his town, as she appears strikingly similar to his wife, right down to a wen in a particularly intimate spot on her body. One would have to know her very, very well indeed to know about that particular portion of her skin.

When the script was finished I referred it to a producer pal of mine who had made an iconic film reminiscent of this script. He read it immediately and promptly acquired the rights, though it was merely a low ball option--very little money--and only for a month. Many writers don't seem to understand that a short option is better than a long one. With a short option the writer gives away less. There's more pressure on the producer to--what else?--produce. Only the other day I overheard two writers bragging to each other about options they had sold. One was for six months. The second boasted that his was superior: a year. Talk about being unclear on the subject! It's like the old joke about Philadelphia. There's a contest; first prize is a week in Philadelphia; second prize is two weeks in Philadelphia.

The writer of the western was shown around Hollywood under the best circumstances. He was not shown around by himself: they wouldn't have read him. He was not shown around by his agent; he didn't have an agent. But even if he had an agent it's not as good as being shown around by a producer with a track record for making hit movies who wants to make your movie. This writer, therefore, was not read by underlings but by the heads of the studios. There's nothing wrong with being read by underlings, but there's also nothing wrong with being read by the chiefs.

At the end of the diminutive option period, nobody bought the script. The writer, however, had all the rights of the project revert to him, and he got to keep the option fee. What's not to like about that? More to the point however, during that brief month he had gone from being completely unknown to being very well known.

At one studio, while they didn't want to make his western, they loved his fresh, funny voice. They had an in-house script that they had not been able to get an A-list Hollywood writer to get a handle on, and so they decided to give him a shot at it. Since he was just rewriting somebody else's script, and he'd never had any professional writing work, they only paid him ten thousand dollars. A week. With a six week guarantee. It actually took eight weeks, so he walked away with $80K, not the kind of fortune it once represented, but certainly enough to buy guacamole to carry him through Cinco de Mayo.

If that's all that he got out of it, it's not a bad deal. But it's not all he got out of it. He also won representation. Imagine you're an unrepresented writer with a major studio wanting to pay you $10K a week for a rewrite assignment. Agents and managers will line up at your door and you can pick and choose. He chose wisely and has a substantial and sustained career under way now for many years.

All of this success accrued from what? Not from homing in on the latest 'trend' but by deliberately, purposefully bucking the trend, not by following the wise course but the dumb one.

From my perch in Westwood I cannot tell you how many times I see writers waste their talent and effort and energy by ignoring the story that's in their heart, the story they want to tell, and instead writing the story they think some producer or studio may want them to tell.

It is a self-defeating prophesy from the get-go.

Writers! Stop working in your heads and work in your hearts. Screenwriting success is not about thinking but feeling. If the writer herself doesn't truly care about what she is writing, why would any producer?

# # #

Follow Richard Walter on Facebook to stay in the “screenwriting know” by “liking” his fan page: www.facebook.com/richardwalterucla

About the Author: Richard Walter

Richard Walter is a celebrated storytelling guru, movie industry expert, and longtime chairman of UCLA’s legendary graduate program in screenwriting. A screenwriter and published novelist, his latest book, Essentials of Screenwriting, is available in stores now. Professor Walter lectures throughout North America and the world and serves as a court authorized expert in intellectual property litigation. For more information and to order the new Essentials of Screenwriting, visit www.richardwalter.com. Richard can be reached at rwalter@tft.ucla.edu.

Copyright ® 2011 Richard Walter

Robin Leigh Anderson Talks SBWC Agents & Critique

Long time attendee and volunteer, Robin Leigh Anderson, tells us how SBWC helped her get an agent, sell her stories, become a better writer.

Striking Gold: A Copyeditor Can Make Your Manuscript Shine

by Catherine Viel

(First of two articles on copyediting. Reprinted from Ink Byte Magazine.)

What's the best way to choose a freelance editor? By asking the right questions and understanding the level of editing your manuscript needs. Once you've decided your book deserves the extra attention (and extra potential for sale), the true challenge is finding just the right copyeditor for you and your prose. Here's a place to start.

What is my budget? Expect to pay from below $1,000 to several thousand dollars to have your book edited. Pricing depends on many factors, including the length of the book, the amount and type of editing required, the overall condition and complexity of the manuscript, your expected turnaround time, and the experience of the editor. Seasoned copyeditors should be able to provide a time/cost estimate after seeing your manuscript, but don't expect to receive a firm bid if you can't supply a substantial sample (preferably the entire manuscript).

How soon does it need to be done? Many editors are booked up for weeks or months with multiple projects, so if you're on a tight deadline, this might be the first thing you should ask.

How much editing does my manuscript need? Make your best guess as to whether your book needs a light going-over for minor grammar and syntax issues and mechanics such as capitalization and hyphenation, or if it would benefit from a more analytical, content-focused approach. Ask your potential copyeditor to describe the levels of editing he provides and what he does for each level. This should be along the lines of light, medium, or heavy edit. Semantics vary in this profession, so make sure that if you want a line edit, your editor can explain what that means to him—and it agrees with what you want done. In the end, like it or not, your editor may determine that your manuscript needs a more detailed and time-consuming edit than you thought it did. That's why it is essential to get several bids on editing your manuscript. If three different editors tell you it needs a heavy edit that will take a month to accomplish, that's probably what it needs.

Is face time important to me, or am I comfortable with an all-electronic and phone relationship? Many freelance editors never see their author-clients, and excellent work is still accomplished. If you're in a smaller town or out-of-the-way locale, you may have no choice but to work via the Internet. If it is important to you, and you think there's a good chance you can find someone local to work with, give it a shot by searching the EFA database or even Craigslist (see resources at the end of this article).

Am I self-publishing or do I intend to submit to agents or publishers? If you're self-publishing, you have more leeway with making certain editorial decisions, though generally you'll want to follow the guidelines in the Chicago Manual of Style. If you plan to submit to an agent or publisher, ensuring that your editor is thoroughly versed in Chicago is essential. Wherever your manuscript is headed, partnering with a copyeditor who has the appropriate expertise and knowledge is of paramount importance to creating the most bulletproof book possible.

To sum up, to prepare for your copyeditor search: finish your manuscript, think about what your budget can handle, and figure out how much editing your manuscript needs. (The only time you won't need a complete manuscript is if you're looking for a developmental editor or ghostwriter, but that is a subject for another column.) Begin by emailing two or three copyeditors and describing the project particulars. When you talk to the candidates, have a list of questions, take notes during your conversation, and ask for bids. Perhaps most important of all, pay attention to your gut and gauge your comfort level with each candidate. You must feel you can trust your editor and can communicate freely and easily during the often lengthy process of having your book edited.

Last but not least, you're perfectly within your rights as a consumer to request a short sample edit from potential editors before making your decision.

Resources for finding copyeditors The Editorial Freelancers Association (EFA) (www.the-efa.org) and the Bay Area Editors' Forum (www.editorsforum.org) both have searchable listings of individual editors, and the EFA has a free job board you can submit your project to. (Be warned: you may receive literally hundreds of responses if you post to the JobList. Sometimes it's better to search the member database and contact several editors individually.) You can also check advertisements and listings in Writers Market online, the Writer magazine, Poets & Writers, and Writer's Digest. For the adventurous, there's Craigslist... look under writing/editing/translating services ("write/ed/tr8"). If you do find someone on Craigslist, it might be prudent to do a little checking into their bona fides. Most professional copyeditors maintain a website—ask your Craigslist candidate for their URL. Find out how many books they've edited, and request the titles and publishers of a couple of them. Membership in the EFA or another editorial organization, a college degree in English, journalism, or communications, a copyediting certificate from a legitimate provider (like a university), and/or relevant work experience should assuage any doubts. And of course, checking references is always a good idea.

Interested in a career as a copyeditor (or even just improving your self-editing skills)? Several institutions offer in-person and online classes and certificate programs, including UC Berkeley and UC San Diego. The Editorial Freelancers Association offers classes as well. For a thorough grounding in how to copyedit, read the text and do the exercises in The Copyeditor's Handbook by Amy Einsohn. Finally, an entire education in itself is to read all thousand-plus pages of the Chicago Manual of Style (get the newest edition, 16—or subscribe to the online version).

Learn more about this complex topic by exploring the extensive resources and FAQ pages on Catherine Viel's website, www.writecat.com. Or send her an email with your questions, writecat@cox.net. She'd love to hear from you and help you solve your copyediting conundrums.

Santa Barbara Literary Scene Dead? by Melinda Palacio

Gone are the downtown bookstores. We grumbled when two big Box bookstores moved to State and Carrillo. Barnes and Noble, then Borders, squeezed out the Earthling and forced the independent store out of business. The town took years to warm up to Borders, but we took advantage of the space with poetry open mics, book signings, musical and literary performances, and a meeting place for residents and writers. Apparently, these stores were big enough to fail. Soon, talk of bankruptcy replaced book talk.

The idea of being a respected author in Santa Barbara is also fading. Last year, after my eye exam, my optometrist asked me the usual questions. I told her about my various publishing credits and when I paid my bill, she called out, “Author in the House.” Her assistants turned over appointment books and scrolled through the computer’s database for a patient named Arthur. “Let me know about a future book signing,” her words trailed off. The optometrist is across the mall from a closed Borders.

Some might respond that we still have used bookstores left in Santa Barbara and independent, Chaucer’s Books. However, none of those well-meaning establishments has the downtown space for readings, meetings, or the coffee shop that big bad Borders had.

The book tour is another endangered dream as more readers buy books online. Why travel a thousand miles to read to a crowd who may not even buy your book when you can do a virtual tour? Unless you’re football star who has published a memoir or you’re a poet, outfitted by Oprah’s magazine team, the book signing audience will most likely consist only of writers who are supporting each other. Perhaps this is why the star-studded town of sleepy Santa Barbara has decided to allow the city’s Book and Author Fair to be canceled, with no one stepping up to show that the town values authors and their work.

The internet cannot adequately replace the experience of a book signing and discussion with a handful of people, willing to weather a rainstorm. Daniel Olivas reminds us of the importance of connecting with readers:

“As I’ve noted before, writing is a lonely endeavor, but when I get to participate in book readings, the loneliness dissipates and I am reminded why I write. That personal connection with readers fills me with energy and inspiration…I wouldn’t write another word if I couldn’t participate in such literary events.”

The roles of agents and publishers are being challenged thanks to the virtual store that cannot be contained: Amazon. Anyone can publish and sell a book on Amazon and a lucky few, such as 26-year-old Amanda Hocking, are making millions. Santa Barbara literary agent, Toni Lopopolo has her own view of these changes:

“Well written novels, at least those with a good story, get published, not self-published. What I do like is that smaller publishers are springing up who publish a limited number of books each season. Some of them have great business plans and put their major efforts into marketing. You don’t get that with the major publishers unless you receive a large advance.”

There are many writers in this town who keep trudging away at their craft, even though they realize that book advances and seeing their names in print, may be a dream.

After an absence of two years, the Santa Barbara Writers Conference starts up again, June-18-23, and this year, Bilingual Press will publish my novel, Ocotillo Dreams, this Summer. April is National Poetry Month. Santa Barbara shows there’s life in the local literary scene by electing a new city poet laureate, Paul Willis, and by hosting poetry events throughout the month. I will host a free reading by the Santa Barbara Sunday Poets April 23 at the Karpeles Manuscript Library from 3-5pm, 21 W Anapamu Street.

Melinda Palacio's debut novel Ocotillo Dreams will be out this July. This post first appeared on La Bloga. For more by Melinda Palacio, visit her website.