December 1st Monthly Mix-it-up Post

What's the adventure? a good question; thoughts on applying for residencies; November poll; more suggestions for subscription gifts... and an offer for Unschool gifts, too

A gingerbread lighthouse from Christmas past…

For years my boys and I made gingerbread houses early in December. They wanted to make a castle. Then we went to the UK and saw a water-wheel in a museum, so they had to add one of those. We ended up with a village with three houses—one for each—a castle and that wheel.

One year, on a complete whim, we said, “Why not a lighthouse?” It made a perfect candle-holder.

Some months ago, an editor requested a re-write from me. Her Big Question was:

What adventure is the main character on?

It felt to have that same sense of whimsey. I hadn’t thought about the word “adventure” connecting with the process of developing characters. Terms like “character arc” come to mind, and internal/external goals, and all that serious stuff. Questions of: why does this story exist? What is in its core? What was the question splitting cells and plaguing my mind at the time I started to write or the story took shape in my mind? This one so writer-focused… but I need to know this.

All questions I think about at the early stages, yes, but also once the first draft is complete, and I’m attempting to understand what it is I’ve written.

But this question of “what adventure…?” shifted the process, and my emotional and mental space.

Maybe I read too much Enid Blyton as a child, but it immediately set me onto a path—with rugs, food tins, and ginger beer for a night spent in a cave! (Blyton readers know…)

The story-line in my WIP sounds like a rather serious thing when I describe. But when I use this word—adventure—it lightens. The actions of my character’s decisions might look the exact same externally. But internally, there’s a new drive(r), and it’s Curiosity.

Of course, curiosity might not seem to “fit” with your character. But the opposite of curiosity is boredom. (Maybe your story is about someone suffering from B, but how long can that go on? and be read?)

Curiosity can have one of a large number of faces. Consider the types and forms of curiosity—and mostly, how it exists in your character, and how it might be revealed and explored in their nature. Curiosity is as much a fingerprint of a person as is their sense of humour—something I’ve said before about our characters.

Even the character who doesn’t use this word to describe their own self, can be curious, can be wanting-to-know.

When I look up adventure in a thesaurus, the first word listed is experience. Although the novel in question was for tween-aged readers, “experience” is for the rest of us, too.

Adventure may serve to be a different jumping-off point, a new way to see.

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Applying for Residencies

Recently an Unschool reader-writer wrote to ask about my thoughts on applying for a writer-in-residence position. The truth is that I’ve applied for a number of such positions over time, and never managed to land one.

I’ll share what I have learned from the process, though—thoughts on what to do and what to avoid.

-do read the application thoroughly. Understand what they’re looking for, and if you don’t, ask questions

-study the website of the organization, including information about previous WIRs, and what they’ve offered the community

-think about what YOU can offer. Create detailed descriptions of workshops and presentations. Don’t be vague. Though I suspect at times I’ve given too many ideas! Note the number of types of presentations and opportunities that previous WIRs have offered and share only your strongest (what will be unique to you?) and—more importantly—those that seem the best fit with the community you’ll be serving. (‘Serving’ is key.)

*Note: The most recent time I applied and was turned down, they offered telephone appointments to explain where our applications could be strengthened. I made the call, and was told that one key piece—at least for this particular residency—was that they wanted details about our projects.

For those of you who haven’t applied for such things, know that most residencies are three-part: you share your writing via presentations; you work with writers via one-on-one appointments or workshops; and third, you work on your own project. The payment for a residency USUALLY includes some degree of each of these all together. Note that at times the '“working with writers” piece might have a public and community element.

But this is the first time I’ve had someone explain to me that they really want to see this third component. In the past, I’ve addressed it in some way, but not in detail.

Don’t hesitate to ask for clarification on what they’re looking for. Each residency is unique. The reality is, too, that often they don’t know exactly what they’re looking for… until they see it!

Do share any knowledge—

(Thank you G., for this question!)

~~~

POLL results (from November 1 newsletter)

This was how I introduced the “poll question:”

For the purposes of the poll, your “writing practice” doesn’t have to be focused on the natural world. You don’t need to explain—it might be some form of personal journal, writing about your spiritual life, life with your dog, your daily cooking—whatever, for you, is contemplative, a time when you slow or find yourself thoughtful, and write about it. Or write within that space.

One third of the respondents said they’ve never done any form of contemplative writing, and the two-thirds who have persisted with the habit do so whether intermittently or regularly.

In other words, you do or you don’t; no one said they’ve done it for less than 3 weeks, and then given up this writing.

I realize this is from a small sampling of respondents, yes. But it’s interesting to think that whether or not consistent, there’s something sustaining to the practice of making time to write in a way that is slowed and thoughtful, and to do so simply for your own self.

I’m heartened by this, in a world and time when all seems to be public and monetized. But this speaks to finding private joy in creating, our human birthright, our connection with the Divine—however you might see or feel that.

Please share if such practice is something you’ve started recently. Or have been planning for the new year, or for over the holidays. There’s never a perfect time to begin something; there’s just a time. (In my experience, the right time is usually just before it feels ready; maybe that’s because we’re never quite ready?)

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Workshop note

If you’ve completed a novel chapter or a picturebook, please email the work to me to post in the workshop space. This is for paid subscribers, and to sign up you’ll need to click on your photo in upper right-hand corner. Then click manage subscriptions, and click to activate “Workshop Space” notifications.

Email to alison@alisonacheson.com

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Re-cap of November Posts

Our November 1 monthly piece for all followers, included thoughts on “contemplative writing”—nature-based daily jottings. I also had a lengthy response to a reader’s question about the decisions around leaving clues or a trail for readers to follow, and how much they need for this. Or do they?

November 1 - the Monthly Mash-up Post for all Readers

For the first week of the month, I wrote about the process of writing solid and provocative questions for book club members reading your work, novel or memoir, and why you might choose to do this, and what might be the nature of these questions.

Writing Book Club Questions for Your Novel

The following week, I published a post on the “sestina” poetic form, and why it IS useful to work in a form. Or “box.”

How do we do the "box" of poetic form?

The question of work-life balance—writers have it, too. (This was the post that netted the most activity this month.)

Clean house? Or finish your book?

There were a few posts about workshopping, and how to sign in to take part, and two picturebooks posted. The feedback for both was thoughtful and useful. So good to see. Thank you to those who took part!

I also posted a “gift guide” of some of my personal favourite newsletter.

Alison's Gift-Guide for Fave Newsletters

And will now add a few more to consider as gift subs for friends and family:

Slant Letter, by HarperOne editor, Stephanie Duncan-Smith. It’s good to read from an editor’s viewpoint. In the past couple months she has released her own first book, a memoir titled Even After Everything: the Spiritual Practice of Knowing the Risks and Loving Anyway.

Can We Read? by Sarah Miller has been a long-time fave of mine. Whether you have children you read to, or if you’re writing for young readers/listeners, and you want to learn more about the books that are already out there in the world, this is a solid newsletter.

And lastly, from Andrew Binks: Process, Prose, Poems, Pieces (and Poodles), with its section called The Shit No One Tells You About Poodles, which has been a delight in the last coule of years.

Holiday deals

If you’d like to gift The Unschool this season, here’s a special offer for paid subscribers to purchase gift subscriptions, offer available until December 27.

Please note, that if you are experiencing financial challenges yourself and cannot afford the $60 CDN (for your own subscription), send me an email with the subject “40%” and I’ll send you a link. (No, I don’t need to know what’s happening in your life that you feel you need this! I’m just sorry you do, and I understand.)

Email: alison@alisonacheson.com

No poll or prompt this month. But do send along any questions that have caught your curiosity!

Happy writing—and put your feet up over the holidays, too—

Alison