Janet Sumner Johnson
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Telling Actions

May

28, 2010 |

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So I went to this concert. I won’t drop names, but here’s a picture I took. ๐Ÿ™‚

We had fabulous seats (not to brag or anything), so we had a great view. Both my husband and I love his music. I already know he’s married with kids. Said to be a devoted husband. He’s handsome. An amazing guitar player. And a great sense of humor.

How could I possible like him more? I found out at the concert.

He singled out all the kids near the stage and made a point of getting them one of his guitar picks. How awesome is that?

So what does this have to do with writing? Everything. When we create our characters, how do we show that our MC is who we say he is?

Something as simple as giving a kid some attention can add depth to make them believable and real. What have you done in your book to show your readers who your MC is?

Speak up:

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Beginner’s Blunder

May

07, 2010 |

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Don’t forget to enter my CONTEST! You can enter until Wednesday, May 12, midnight EDT .

Warning: This is a scary story. Readers with weak stomachs, or who cringe easily might want to stop reading now.

So a good hard four months of writing, and it was done. My very own, very first book! It was beautiful. A classic. Destined for greatness. I just knew it.

My darling husband gave me The Children’s Writer’s and Illustrator’s Market so I could learn all about the submission process. And boy did I do my homework. I picked just the right agent, and sent off my perfectly-written and copy-edited query, and can you believe it!? She requested a partial!!!

If only I had spent so much time on my book. Seriously, are you ready for this? I’m more than embarrassed to admit it.

I sent my first draft.

No, not by accident. Just because I really thought my book was that wonderful. *blush*

I guess my first hint that my book needed work should have been the pained look on my mother’s face whenever I asked what she thought of it. That was 8 years ago, and I think I’ve learned a little bit since then, but I still look back and wonder, WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!

Anyone else out there make a now-laughable beginner’s blunder? I mean, surely I’m not the only one. . . . right? . . . RIGHT?! I’d love to hear your stories.

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The Split . . .

May

03, 2010 |

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Since I started this blog, I always knew I wanted to start a second one dedicated to writing. I visited lots of other writing blogs, debated the format with my husband, imagined the design and topics, and finally pushed it off, worried I’d have nothing of import to say. I kept waiting for inspiration . . .

and I finally got it: If I wait until inspiration strikes, I’ll never do it. 

Sigh. Not exactly what I’d hoped for, but there we are, nevertheless.

So I’m taking the plunge. Dedicating this blog to writing, and creating a new blog to keep my family and friends updated on my wildly exciting life as a wife and mother. (If I say it enough times, surely it will be true. Right?) You can link to it here.

I know, I can hear the groan . . . why not create a new one for writing, thus sparing many of you the pain of changing bookmarks and blog links, etc. But it’s selfish really. This way, I’ll already have a few followers to build from. ๐Ÿ™‚ 

If you don’t already follow me, feel free to join! And as a heads up, to celebrate the kick-off of my writing blog, I will host a writerly give-away on the next post. Woo hoo! Free stuff!

Thank you to all of my current followers, to all you other bloggers, my family, and all my friends who have been such a support and inspiration in this crazy dream I have of getting published.

Speak up:

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My Happy News!

Apr

17, 2010 |

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So I entered the Eleventy-one Celebration Writing Contest over at Laurel’s Leaves (I’m a sucker for a good contest), and can you believe it? I won Grand Prize!

Woo hoo!!

I’m seriously honored (and humbled) to have won the Grand Prize, especially after reading the runner-up entries. The contest asked for a dialogue-driven scene or story which showed an instance of negotiation and persuasion, “like the post-party scene in Fellowship of the Ring in which Gandalf convinces Bilbo to leave the ring of power in the Shire.”

Laurel is posting my excerpt on her site, along with her comments. She is excellent at what she does and her comments have been extremely insightful —well worth the time to check it out. I’ve been learning a lot from her. Thank you, Laurel, for holding such a fun contest and for giving my writer’s ego a gi-normous boost!

Without further ado, here’s my winning excerpt from “The Other Prince”:

Briann studied Bob for a moment before speaking. “Do you think you’ll be appointed?”
Bob shook his head. “I don’t know. Before, I would have said yesโ€”you know my father. But with war looming? Even he can’t be that blind. I’m hopeless on a horse and even worse with a sword. He must realize
that.”
Briann flipped over a bucket and sat. “Well, what do you hope happens?”
Bob appreciated that she hadn’t just agreed with him about being so terrible. “I can’t go to war,” he said. “Not and live to see my sixteenth birthday.”
“So you don’t want to be captain,” Briann said.
“I didn’t say that,” Bob hedged. “We both know how much I hate cavalry drills and sword fighting class, but wouldn’t it be great to shut everyone up . . .”
“Like Friederick,” Briann teased.
Bob scowled. “Yes! Like Friederick. Prove I can do itโ€”to them and to me. And just once, I’d like to earn my father’s good opinion.”
“Then do it,” Briann said simply.
Bob laughed. “Like it’s that easy.”
“It is!” Briann stood. “You could do as well as anyone if you decided to. I’m certain of it.”
“Yeah?” Bob asked skeptically. “Have you found some magic charm that will transform me into a warrior? Or maybe a magic sword! That would work.” Though Bob knew it was impossible, he couldn’t help picturing
himself, the noble warrior, atop his steed. Crowds pressed forward to get a glimpse of the noble Prince Robert William II.
“Right, with the ban on magic.” Briann rolled her eyes. “Just this once, be serious.”
Bob sighed. “I’m sorry, but we both know it’s hopeless. I’m hopeless.”
Briann cleared her throat. “I could teach you.”
“You’d only be my, like, twenty-seventh teacher,” Bob huffed. “I’ve tried learning, Briann. I have! It’s just no use.”
Briann stood tall, hands on her hips. Anger flashed from her eyes. Bob noticed her right eye twitch ever so slightly. From years of experience, Bob knew that meant trouble. “You’ve never tried to learn from me. I’m better than any of those ‘experts’ they hire to teach. But fine! Be like that. Keep your pride. Just don’t complain to me about feeling helpless.” She turned to leave with an icy, disdainful look. “See you at supper.”
Stunned, Bob watched Briann march towards the doors. What had just happened? “Wait! Briann! You really think I can learn?”
Briann paused and coolly examined him. “Don’t be a ninny. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think you could do it.”
Bob stared at Briann, astonished. She believed in him. And she really wanted to help. “Won’t you get teased for trying to teach the ‘hopeless prince’?”
Briann softened at Bob’s tone. “If I cared what they thought, I wouldn’t even be able to teach you because I’d never have learned. Besides, friends help each other.”
Bob met her gaze. He felt his feet lifting off the ground. She was so beautiful, so kind, so funny, so talented, . . . and so engaged to his brother. He came back to reality with a thud.
Still, he smiled and stuck out his hand. “How could I refuse that?”
Briann took his hand, clearly pleased. “You’ve got yourself a teacher then!”

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Thoughts on Peer Pressure and Caves

Jul

27, 2009 |

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So yes, after years of resisting, I have caved. I have started a blog.

It’s not that I dislike blogs, of course, or even the idea of blogging, but rather a question of where my time is best spent. Do I clean the house (not if I can at all justify otherwise), play with my children (and frustrate them by my inability to make believable weapon sounds with my mouth), work on my book (that is running through my head anyway), call someone I haven’t spoken to in ages (but how to choose among so many?), play solitaire on the computer (which really isn’t an option, but sounded funny), finish unpacking (so many boxes, so little time), or do I bag it all and start a blog?

I’m sure you can see my dilemma.

However, after weighing my options, and considering the sound advice of several friends, I have come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, a blog is not a time vaccuum, but a way to keep friends and family informed on my life. Then, I can let go of the guilt for not contacting them all more often, and accomplish more (like mastering the art of making shooting sounds with your mouth).

Only time will tell (no pun intended). ๐Ÿ˜‰

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