I always wanted to attend an event at The Writing Barn in
Austin, because
a) Austin, 'nuff said, and
b) I’d
heard about its awesomeness through word-of-mouth in my
writing groups.
In theory, attending seemed like a great idea. It's only a 2.5 hour drive away. But I have
two kids, and my hubs travels constantly for work, so it became one of
those Maybe Someday scenarios.
Last December, I reached a good place in my writing journey. After
riding the Pitch Wars high, I was suddenly fielding agent offers, rather than rejections.
I’d practically changed my name to Smug. Things were finally happening, so I
was just gonna sit back and enjoy it and read for fun again. All smooth sailing
from here, folks! Ha.
I picked up a copy of My
True Love Gave To Me, an anthology of holiday-themed YA short stories, at
the recommendation of my go-to-girl for books and music. Once again, she was
right. The book was adorable. I skimmed the stories until I got to “Angels In The Snow.” That one made me sit up and pay attention.
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| You need this book in your life. |
This character, Shy, was alive on the page. He was different
from the YA characters I normally read, because he reminded me of the boys I
grew up with. He made me laugh and cry in the
space of about ten pages. He was such a relatable character, with insecurities
that made me want to crawl into the pages and hug him. I think that’s the
first time a short story ever extracted such a visceral reaction from
me—because, well, short stories are short. There isn't a lot of room for character development. But this one? I was blown away by the charm.
I flipped back to see who the author was. Matt de la Peña. I
typed his name into Amazon and discovered he’d written a handful of critically
acclaimed, award-winning books. How had I not heard of this guy? I downloaded
the first novel in the search list, a book titled We Were Here, and started reading it
right away. That’s when my holy-shit-o-meter really cranked to tilt.
My God, that book wrecked me. Like, full-on-demolition-derby-in-my-heart
wrecked me. Beyond the raw and real characters, there was this powerful social
commentary threaded into the tapestry of the story. These kids on the page demonstrated something I’ve known (and lived) myself: kids without means have just
as much to say and contribute as the kids who have it made. They want and deserve to be present, too. I told everyone who
would listen to read that book. (And then I agonized for weeks over the fact
that my own characters were missing the it
factor these characters had. How the
hell did he make it look so easy to write like that?)
Fast forward to February. The Writing Barn posted an event
for October 2015. When I read it on my Facebook feed, I spilled coffee down my
shirt. There would be an Advanced Writer Workshop in October, focusing on
narrative depth and characterization, with Matt de la Peña as one of the
teachers.
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| WHAAAAT? |
I had to try to go, if for no other reason than to hang out
in this guy’s shadow and learn how he developed his craft. I applied with a
rough work-in-progress, not expecting much. But then I got an acceptance email
a short time later.
Cue the freakout.
Jeremy took the days off work, so that I'd be able to go. (Best, most supportive hubby ever.) I called
Kes—my mentor and friend—and asked her to meet me in Austin in October. Though
I felt like I’d known her for years after our Pitch Wars experience, I’d never
actually hugged her in person. This would be my chance to do that.
Between February and October, though, I barely managed to
add 5,000 new words to my WIP. I learned how slow the industry moved, and I had
a few stall-outs after months and months between revisions on my previous manuscript. My
former smugness evaporated when I hit the wall.
I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I had a literary agency contract. Validation! Why
was nothing happening? Why had I suddenly forgotten how to write?
As excited as I was about the upcoming workshop, I started
getting really nervous that I was in over my head. How was I supposed to show
up and do this thing when I couldn’t even write a paragraph without wanting to
set my laptop ablaze? I made excuses for my lack of discipline and pretended I
was okay with it.
I don’t think it fully hit me that “Advanced Writer” meant actual advanced writers until I got to
The Writing Barn on the first day. Realizing you are the least educated person
in the room is like realizing you wore a tutu to a toga party, mmmkay? As the
wave of introductions circled the room, words like published and grad school
and MFA echoed in my head like a gong truck crashing into a ravine.
So me, my technical college education (in an unrelated field), and my rookie tutu
tried to blend into the scenery and not talk. Which was impossible, because I
got called out for it almost immediately. Amanda Jenkins (Printz Honor Award recipient) was the other faculty
member, and she had no problem forcing me into the conversation. She's fierce! It’s moments like that when I wish I’d taken that public speaking class a
little more seriously.
As I bumbled around the podium that first night, muttering some
nonsense about my dog, and how I suck at math (who knows what the fuck I even
said!), it occurred to me what my problem had been. I was a fraud. When getting
an agent didn’t turn me into someone who could write without even trying, I figured
that meant I was just a blind monkey who tripped and fell into a pile of
bananas. Total dumb luck. I started believing I didn’t really belong in the
writing community.
Imagine my surprise when these BFDs at The Writing Barn scooped me into the fold and convinced me that I do
belong. And some of them, I discovered, had the same fears as me.
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| Attendees, faculty, & interns with our lovely host, Bethany and precious little Taru. |
The weekend was full of inspiring lectures, narrative-sharpening
exercises, and a true sense of community. The workshop portion terrified me,
because I didn’t know until a few weeks beforehand that everyone would be
reading and critiquing what I’d submitted. (rookie) But it actually turned out
to be the most enlightening part of the whole thing. I got to bounce ideas
around with these talented people, about their work and mine. They were more down to earth than I ever
would’ve guessed. That didn’t stop my internal monologue from getting stuck on just be cool, just be cool the whole
time, though.
There was this moment on Friday night, though--I was sitting on the screened porch at the barn with Carrie and Claire, listening to the cicadas. We were tipsy and talking about shamanism (you'd have to be there to understand why this is not weird at all), and I was like whoa. I'm one of the cool kids right now. A wine shaman, if you will.
Here are my top three take-aways from my weekend at The
Writing Barn:
1.
Believe
you can, and then do it. I
wish I could tell you I learned that validation doesn’t matter. That getting an
agent, or receiving positive peer notes, or having one of your heroes
compliment your work doesn’t affect who you are as a writer. But that would be
a big fat lie, because I may or may not have laminated my notes from Matt and
Amanda. We’re all just putting our insides on paper, so of course we want
people to love it and validate us. The caveat to that is this: the validation
doesn’t do the work. You still have to do that part yourself. Constructive feedback
definitely helps. Go to a workshop, people. The experience re-lit my fire.
2.
Be disciplined. Matt talked in his lecture about “clocking-in” and writing
every day. That’s something I absolutely have not been doing until this week.
When I got back from Austin, I resolved to treat writing like a real job.
Every day this week, I sat down and worked from the time I got back from taking the kids
to school, to the time I had to leave to pick them up again. Then at night, I put them to bed, and I stayed up to write. Yes, the laundry is suffering. But screw
it. The closets aren't empty yet. And that discipline resulted in the most prolific week
of my entire writing life. I wrote 21,469 words between Sunday, October 4th
and today, October 9th. That’s more
than four times what I’ve written since February. My manuscript is over 50k words now.
3.
Have
patience with your characters. This one is the hardest for me, because
patience is an enormous pain in the ass. Last time I prayed for patience, I
found out I was pregnant with Jax, my youngest child--the wild one. God’s got
jokes, y’all. Anyway, one of the recurring notes in my feedback was that I get
in the way of my characters. I get impatient and start talking to the reader as
“the writer,” instead of letting my characters tell the story they want to
tell. Total a-ha moment, because now I notice every time I start doing it. Apparently I also thought it was necessary to foreshadow everything.
(Spoiler alert: it’s not.)
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| You're singing Guns N Roses now, aren't you? |
I learned so much during those four days, and I made a lot of great new friends. Best of all, my muse woke
from a long hibernation.
If you have the opportunity to go to a workshop at The
Writing Barn and/or hear Matt de la Peña or Amanda Jenkins lecture/speak, trust me
when I say this: DO IT. I feel really fortunate that I got to meet and work with them.
Did I walk away with some Holy Grail secret recipe to
creating characters that resonate the way Shy and Miguel and Danny so effortlessly do? No. But at
least now I’m actively working on it. :)
Here are a few pictures from the weekend:
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| I arrived to chocolates on my pillow at The Book House. <3 |
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| I got my hug. <3 Love this girl. Best roomie ever. |
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| These sweet babies live at The Writing Barn & greeted all of us every morning. |
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I bought a hard copy & got it signed.
Did not go all fangirl like that time I met Johnny Damon, thank God.
I wanted to, though.
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Kellye Garrett spent 8 years working in Hollywood, including a stint writing for the CBS drama Cold Case. People were always surprised to learn what she did for a living—probably because she seemed way too happy to be brainstorming ways to murder people. A former magazine editor, Kellye holds a B.S. in magazine writing from Florida A&M and an MFA in screenwriting from USC’s famed film school. Having moved back to her native New Jersey, she spends her mornings commuting to Manhattan for her job at a leading media company—while still happily brainstorming ways to commit murder. Her first novel, Hollywood Homicide, will be released by Midnight Ink in August 2017. It’s the first book in the Detective by Day series.
