#lafayettewrites
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7 Things I’ve Learned So Far, by Melissa Fraterrigo
“7 Things I’ve Learned So Far” (this installment written by Melissa Fraterrigo, author of GLORY DAYS) is a recurring column where writers at any stage of their career can talk about writing advice and instruction, as well as how they got their literary agent—by sharing seven things they’ve learned along their writing journey that they wish they knew at the beginning.
1. There are many ways to write.
When I was in my 20s, I visited the local coffee shop with my yellow legal pad, ordered a bottomless cup of coffee, flipped through my Moleskin, and waited for one of the jotted ideas to catch my attention. Then I’d sit and work for about two hours. If I worked really hard, I might stand up and reward myself with a brownie, and then I’d work a few more hours. Since then I’ve been a teacher, an editor, a wife, a mom, and my process has had to accommodate these changing responsibilities. A writing practice is not static. It will adjust according to your life circumstances and you should let it do just that. Rather than expecting to work the same way you did when you were 20 years old, it can be helpful to realize there are many different ways to get words on the page. I now understand that I am writing when I’m reading poetry and paying attention to the way the old man in line at the post office clutches a sheaf of papers to his chest. Much of writing is not just about crafting sentences, but refilling the well that gives you the impetus to create in the first place.
Melissa Fraterrigo is the author of the novel GLORY DAYS (Sept., 2017, University of Nebraska Press) and the short story collection THE LONGEST PREGNANCY (Livingston Press). Her fiction and nonfiction have appeared in more than forty literary journals and anthologies from Shenandoah and The Massachusetts Review to storySouth, and Notre Dame Review. She is founder and executive director of the Lafayette Writers’ Studio in Lafayette, IN, where she teaches classes on the art and craft of writing. Follow her online at https://twitter.com/Lafayettewrite.
2. Wake early.
I’ve never been a morning person, but now my alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m. and I charge out of bed, excited to sit and write while the rest of my slumbers. There is something comforting about writing in the dark—literally and figuratively—and it has fueled my work in a way I could not have cultivated otherwise. When I write in the early morning I am able to tend to my own needs before anyone else in my family. I am able to listen to the voices that come to me as quiet as dandelion fluff or as sharp as broken glass—and give them their due.
3. Keep lit alive.
If you love literature, you must find a way to keep it alive in your community. You can teach or tutor, organize an open mic, or just offer to read a fellow writer’s work. Better yet, start a writer’s group where rather than workshopping pieces, you simply read them out loud to one another. The market for books continues to dwindle, and lovers of literature must do their part to keep the medium strong. Introducing others to the power of the written word and sharing what it is about literature that moves you deepens everyone’s awareness of literature’s reach—and benefits us all.
4. Get moving.
I’ve solved my greatest issues of plot and character while swimming laps at our local pool. When I’m swimming, I can only focus on the beat of my stroke, heartbeat whapping in my ears. Suddenly I can’t hear the doubts that circle a project, or the concerns that plague a draft. What I’m aware of is my breath and the voices of my characters, urging me forward.
5. Say thanks.
Writing and publishing is not a solitary enterprise. We stand on the backs of supportive friends and family, dedicated teachers, readers, and writers whose work we admire. If someone has helped you along the way, thank them! Is there an author whose work makes you swoon? Take the time to track down her email and send her a note of gratitude for her books. My fifth-grade science teacher took the time to attend a small coffee shop reading last month. While I was shocked that she seemed so much shorter than I remembered, I was also floored she chose to be present, and I made sure she knew it!
6. Be your own cheerleader.
There will always be people who believe that you do not have the experience or qualifications to write. They may believe that you aren’t bright or attractive or interesting enough to pen your memoir or novel. Accept that these naysayers must exist, just like the green fuzz that develops on old yogurt, and go on. Decide for yourself that you want to learn everything about writing and that the pursuit of this knowledge is enough. Rather than focusing on publication, concentrate on what you love about this work—is it the rush of the initial idea? Is it a crackly verb? When I left for graduate school to study fiction, my dad told me that I was wasting my time pursing an MFA; he said stories weren’t real. His opinion, but still. It remained with me. Yet his comment also set me free. I was no longer bound by his expectations because I didn’t believe them. I was thrilled to have two full years to study the craft of writing. Embrace your ideas and love for writing—and don’t let anyone else keep you from this pursuit.
The biggest literary agent database anywhere
is the Guide to Literary Agents. Pick up the
most recent updated edition online at a discount.
7. Keep the channel open.
One of my favorite quotes is by the dancer Martha Graham: “There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.” Your job is not to judge your work, but to create it. If you don’t, who will? Commit yourself to your writing. You do so each time you wake early or stay up late to complete a page. Every time you tell friends you cannot meet them for drinks because you are working, or jot down a potential story idea, you recommit yourself to your art. If you put yourself in the seat and see the work you do as important, others will as well. And sometimes, it’s okay to treat yourself to that brownie.
If you’re an agent looking to update your information or an author interested in contributing to the GLA blog or the next edition of the book, contact Writer’s Digest Books Managing Editor Cris Freese at [email protected].
The post 7 Things I’ve Learned So Far, by Melissa Fraterrigo appeared first on WritersDigest.com.
from Writing Editor Blogs – WritersDigest.com http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/7-things-ive-learned-so-far/7-things-melissa-fraterrigo
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"I'm calling dibs On your lips On your kiss On your time Boy, I'm calling dibs On your hand On your heart All mine..."
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the chris evans gif set you reblogged is from what's your number, a very cheesy but very enjoyable rom com
omg have i ever told you you are a literal angel?
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Birthday Drabble #2
Our babies of which we haven’t gotten nearly enough of lately, a reminder that you will always be my #1
@lafayettewrites
She couldn't live up to his old friends, she knew that. His birthdays had probably been filled with laughter and boisterousness and extravagant gifts and trips and- if she had to bet- sneaking out. But she'd tried.
God had she tried.
She'd thought about everything she'd want in her birthday… and done the opposite. Which was why she was waiting outside his room- well, a little down the hall in case a roommate came out- the night before his birthday (which hadn't been as difficult to figure out as one would think, given that practically everyone in the school had celebrated or watched him celebrate his birthday for the last five years), waiting nervously to see if he'd come out. She'd taken the leap of faith and in their typical note-passing, told him to meet her here after curfew, which in and of itself was unusual for her. The few times he'd lured her out she'd been paranoid and nervous, thinking they were about to be caught any moment. There were times she could forget the paranoia, times where the sheer excitement and the racing blood and the caught breath of being around Ben overrode the worry of being caught, but he worked for that, even if not as hard as she'd like to think.
He slipped out his door and paused as he looked down the hall, and she excitedly trotted over to him, her furred hood pulled up to hide her giveaway head of dark waves. "Hi." She breathed, her eyes shining with nerves and excitement, reaching for his hand. The excitement doubled and stalled her breath for a moment when he recognized her and that wide Rosier grin stretched across his lips, and he pulled her to him for a hug, squeezing her to him, pressing his lips to her hairline where he could reach it under her hood.
"Hey pretty girl." He let her go a little, keeping her tucked under an arm securely where he could still see her. "This is an unprecedented surprise…" he looked as at-ease as ever, but the trailing off of his words let her know he was curious, if unwilling to question her and risk scaring her back to her room.
"I wanted to do something for you." She said, tugging him along with her.
"That's sweet." He grinned again, letting himself be lured along with her toward the tower he'd shared with her when they'd first started seeing each other outside of the occasional mended cut or bruise. It was windy, as it always was up on this particular level of the castle, but she'd been working on a charm to block the worst of the wind for the past month, and it was working, surprisingly, making the little space calm, with only a light breeze sneaking through her charm. But he breeze wasn't enough to disturb the picnic basket she had set up, nor the thick furred blanket folded under it.
She turned back to him, looking hopeful. "I wasn't sure if it would be cold or not past the charm, so I brought the thickest blanket I could find. I'm sure we'll be back before Helen notices it missing." She said quickly, as though he'd know somehow that she'd stolen it from her roommate and demand an explanation, as she hurriedly bent down to open the basket and take out the (also stolen, but from Anika this time) firewhiskey and collection of little cupcakes she'd had the kitchen elves make for him. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, flavor wise I mean, so I had them make an assortment, and yes, I'm aware I'm not really one for drinking, and I did bring other things, but I thought this might be the closest to what you're used to. I also," she drew out a small radio and a little jar that had reoccurring mini fireworks trapped inside. "brought these, I know it's not much, but I was hoping it was something." She finally looked up at him, her lips drawn down in a familiar worried expression, wondering if she'd done it right at all, hoping he hadn't been hoping to let this birthday- so different from his others- slip by unnoticed in it's difference.
Her worry lasted as long as it took him to realize what was happening, and as long as it took for the unreadable expression to morph into that wide, sunny smile, and for him to lunge at her and wrap his arms around her, swinging her off her feet. She tried to keep from shrieking in surprise, and clung to him until he finally lowered her a little, not enough to set her back on the ground but low enough to properly kiss her, and she tried not to overthink the almost sad edge to the kiss, the slight desperation in how tightly he held her, and tried to take the affection just as it was; affection. "Thank you, Cers."
"I love that you call me Cers." She blurted, blushing immediately at the slipped-out admission, but she earned another kiss for it, so she accepted the trade.
"I'll be sure to call you it more often. Let's eat, what do you say?"
"I'd love to." She chirped happily as her feet were set back on the ground, and she crouched to reach for the blanket, though Ben's wand beat her to it and smoothed out the fur, giving them a place to sit to enjoy their picnic. She looked up at him with a sweet smile. "I would have gotten it for you." She offered.
"I know. Now you don't have to." He smiled, sitting next to her and pulling her to him.
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Birthday Drabble #1
Annison Birthday drabble
@lafayettewrites
She smoothed her skirt nervously, hating that that word even applied to her in any sense. She didn't do nervous, she didn't do fidgety and antsy and practically sick with anticipation. She was Annabelle-freaking-Montgomery, she was better than this, better than the way she shifted from foot to foot, the way she prayed this was right, that she'd done well even though nothing had come out quite the way she wanted; his favorite food was a bit blackened on the bottom, and the homemade cake leaned a little to the left when you looked at it straight on.
But it was the effort that counted, right?
It was the first birthday they'd spend together, really together as opposed to simply at school together. And she wanted it to be special, she wanted to put actual effort into it, which was something poor Harrison probably wasn't used to seeing from her. She was a disappointingly business-driven person, and most of her effort was directed toward her career at the Prophet- ok, her internship at the Prophet until either they decided she was suited for something better or she decided she was better than the Prophet- rather than her relationship with Hogwarts' former star seeker and current St. Mungo's ladder climber.
But she could do effort… she didn't, often, but she could. So she had. Which was why she was currently dressed in the nicest thing she owned, next to an attempt at home-cooked food and a sad little homemade cake with 'Happy Birthday Harrison' scrawled in admittedly nice calligraphy- at least her skill with writing had managed to translate to the cake- waiting nervously for Harrison to come home. He'd be tired, possibly cranky after a too-long shift at work, but he had tomorrow off, and she was hoping the rare show of effort might lighten his spirits a little.
The lock clicked, and she perked like a puppy, practically trembling in anticipation as she waited for the door to swing open and reveal her boyfriend, looking- as she'd guessed- tired and haggard, but he paused as he realized what was waiting for him, and her expression crumpled into an equally unfamiliar look of unsure hopefulness.
"Happy birthday, Harrison."
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Happy Happy Birthday
@lafayettewrites
To my best friend on your birthday
My darling, my love, I can't even say how glad I am that you're my friend, that you consider me your best friend just like I do you, that you and I click on so many levels and that we can talk about anything and everything and that even when life gets busy it doesn't matter because we have the type of connection where constant communication isn't necessary, because the affection is always implied, even across this damn ocean separating us.
I hope your birthday is everything you want it to be, and I hope you stay safe if you go out (you know I worry!) and I hope you get lots of presents and I'm sorry I can't give you actual presents yet (but they're being stockpiled don't you worry) and I hope the drabbles will be a decent placeholder until I can give you all your presents when I come up.
I wish you all the best and all the love in the world and all the happiness, and CONGRATS ON TURNING 18 MY LOVE!!
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TFW you go from writing a drabble about a pair you’re still not 100% sure about to a pairing that’s so familiar it’s like coming home.
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@lafayettewrites For youuuu
Piano Lessons V 1.0: Lucas and Circe
Here’s the song she’s playing
"That's beautiful."
Her fingers tripped over the keys, looking up in surprise to see Lucas standing in the doorway of what was technically a reception room, though they'd yet to have used it as such, and it had mostly become a fancy storage room for their piano. She knew how to play, and had had lessons since she was young, it was one of the few things she enjoyed aside from potions, though that enjoyment she hadn't been allowed in years, since she was constantly pressed to find longer, harder, more challenging things to play and master and while she enjoyed it, she was no master pianist, and the pressure and disappointment when she didn't live up to that pressure had made it hard for her to stay with the beautiful instrument.
But she would always love her favorites, and she turned away from her husband shyly, smiling self-consciously down at the keys as though surprised to find herself at the piano. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I thought you and Benjamin would be out longer." She said, standing from the bench and smoothing her skirt down, looking back up to find him walking toward her, grazing his hand along the piano until he'd reached her side, and tapped a key a few times idly.
"Don't be. I didn't know you played."
"Poorly, and not for a long time."
She hated that momentary pause that always followed her diminishing herself or her abilities, that pause where she knew he wanted to make her take it back, where he wanted to argue the statement, but wasn't sure how to go about doing that. And so they always ended up with a heavy pause as he tried and failed time and time again to try to force her to see whatever it was he tried to see in her, and continue with the conversation. "It didn't sound very poor to me."
"Admittedly, it is one of my favorites, and it has received special attention over the span of my learning." She said, looking back down at the keys. "Beethovan's Moonlight."
"What do you say about the rumors he was a wizard?" He asked, almost playfully.
"I quite believe it. And I would hazard a guess that my parents did as well, or I'd never have been allowed to learn the piece." She was still carefully studying the keys, and didn't look back to Lucas directly until he'd sat at the bench himself.
"May I listen?"
"Oh, I- I was finished, I hadn't meant to still be here when you returned-"
"Please?"
While she could resist Lucas most things where she couldn't his brother, that soft voice, struggling so hard to understand her and struggling so hard to be let in, was something she could never resist. And so she sat next to him, carefully tucking her skirt under her and settling herself at the keys, starting from the beginning of the song. Though she'd long since memorized the sheet music, though it had been ages since she'd needed to see the music to play the song, she still kept her eyes open and on the keys, vaguely staring into space as she played the notes she could play with her eyes closed. But she wasn't like those players, who let themselves be carried away with the music, she was always present, always critiquing herself, always listening for the first sign that the flow was disrupted so she could adjust and correct. There were players that practically danced to the music in their seat, players that let their eyes drift shut and feel the music within them, and there were Circe-like players, with technically proficient fingers and ramrod straight backs, though little obvious emotion.
But she couldn't always help the smile that came as she played, especially without her parents or former instructor around snapping at her, and just the music filling the air and the warmth of Lucas next to her.
"I think that's the happiest I've seen you in… ever, possibly." He commented as her hands stilled on the last, drawn out notes, and she smiled over at him, still slightly high on the peacefulness of the song, and didn't even flinch when he leaned in to kiss her cheek. But she still hadn't planned to hear herself offer,
"I could teach you…"
She also hadn't been expecting the surprised smile from Lucas. "Do you think I would be able to learn so late?"
"Well, we wouldn't start with something like this, of course. The basics, then I could show you another of my favorites that's a bit simpler." She realized he may not even want to learn, and rushed to add, "But of course I understand if you'd rather not, I didn't mean to say you shoul-"
She'd earned another cheek kiss, though she wasn't entirely sure what for. "Shh. I'd like to learn, if you'd like to teach me."
"I would." She scooted to the side of the bench and gestured Lucas to move to the middle, and drew a chuckle from him.
"Oh we're starting now?"
Her face fell slightly and she shook her head. "Oh, no, we don't have to, I thought-"
"I'm kidding with you, Circe."
"Oh." She felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed about not having clued in to the tease, though his small smile and tone she hadn't registered made it obvious in hindsight, and moved to stand. "I should have some old things buried in the library somewhere. I recall unpacking them. I'll return in a moment." She didn't waste much time in the library that was really Lucas' study and accio'd the old papers, and trotted back to the piano with them, setting some of the beginner pages up on the rack and settling back down next to Lucas. "Alright. So keys, first. Relax your hands, and ultimately you should be able to play a collection of notes without having to strain your hand, lest you're moving up and down the entire keyboard." She demonstrated with her own hands and he imitated her, and she moved to touch his right hand. "There are two clefs, higher, which is treble. And lower," she touched his left hand, "Which is bass. Each have their own scales. Now this," She touched the key his thumb rested on, pressing a little to hear the note, "Is called Middle C, as in the note 'C'. It's the… the home base, between the two clefs. Everything to the left is bass," again she touched him, laying her left hand on his, and her right on his as well, "everything to the right is treble." She tilted her head to look at him. "Did I explain that clearly enough?"
He nodded, pressing all five notes under his right hand. "Treble." And then his left. "Bass." And his thumb. "Middle C."
She grinned, pleased that she'd been clear and pleased that he was clearly listening to her, and not yet bored. And for the rest of the night, until they realized they'd missed dinner and needed to have some food, they sat in the piano room, playing and talking and for the first time since they'd moved in together, she didn't hesitate to move aside when he came to bed.
[[omg there's so much more I can do with this if you like it jsyk]]
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This first piano drabble for Niamh is making me miss playing piano. Oops.
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◎ - Who do you love more, Circe?
“I- that’s not- Ben. It’s always been Ben, and I think-”
“I think it’s always going to be Ben.”
#lafayettewrites#I'm not even assigning a verse bc it basically applies to all verses#WHY NIAMH#WHY WOULD YOU MAKE US DO THIS#I'M SO SORRY LUCAS#YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SORRY#ifuckinghateher#notreally#butstill#I'm going to go cry in a corner somewhere#side note do you like the gif?#I picked it special because you SEE the moment it dawns on her that it's always him
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TFW you have that one post you need your partner to see but there’s other leading up posts to that one and you don’t want to seem dramatic or obsessive so you just rearrange your entire queue meticulously so they’ll all come out over the next few hours instead of days bc you can’t wait that long.
Oh wait... no one but me does that? That’s cool man.
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#pls keep reblogging this i neeed it to survive
I love how desperate @lafayettewrites and I are for Dragon’s Den to open
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