Guest blog: Tameri Etherton and the strangest play ever seen

This edition of Written Words is something I've never done before: I'm re-blogging a post by San Diego-based independent author Tameri Etherton. Tameri was witness to the new dramatic phenom, Accomplice.

Tameri originally wrote this post on her own blog, A Cup of Tea and Sorcery, on May 17.

The concept of Accomplice seems to me to be a new medium for story-telling, which means writing. So for an explanation of a new way of expression, and a possible new outlet for writers — take it away, Tami!

Accomplice: The stangest play I've ever "seen"

My instructions were simple: Sunday. San Diego’s Little Italy. Noon. Go to State and Fir. Look for the eyeball. Wait there. You will be approached by a man who will give you directions. Follow his instructions… wear walking shoes!

That’s pretty much all I knew about this "play" I was going to see with my friend and writing pal, Christine Ashworth. Had I done a little bit of homework, I would’ve known that Accomplice ”offers a completely unique theatrical experience, unlike any found on any stage, taking its audience on an adventure through the city streets. You’ll be sent on a mission, aided by clues and mysterious cast members strewn throughout various locations such as street corners, bars and out-of-the-way spots.”

Um, yeah, that would’ve been great to know beforehand, but really I’m glad I went in not knowing what to expect. I mean, THIS was our stage:



Scene where the action began

 Pretty cool, right? After getting our instructions, we set off on our adventure. It took us a few minutes to figure out the clues, but once we did, we rocked it.

Nothing was safe from our prying eyes!

Part of the fun were the businesses that got involved in the play. They had clues for us, but we had certain tasks to complete first. Sort of like on The Amazing Race, but without all the stress or other competitors chasing after us. Plus, we got food and wine. Sweet!

The chips and dip here were divine.

We dashed around San Diego’s Little Italy and I saw parts of my city that I’ve never seen before. We’d duck into shops and around corners discovering new things. The pub we went to in the pic above I’ll definitely return to for lunch or dinner, as well as the final restaurant. The play was as much a love letter to San Diego as it was an adventure, which I absolutely adore.

Another great thing about this play? Whatever food or beverages you consumed, you totally worked off running up and down the streets! We must’ve walked five miles. Okay, maybe just two, but still. It was a hot day and damn, my glutes were burning after some of those inclines.

When the play ended, I was a little sad. I was having so much fun, I didn’t want it to be over! By then, I was fully invested not only in the story, but the characters were so charming I loved hanging out with each of them and wanted to meet more. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Afterward, Christine and I hung out to watch other groups come through. Watching them and their reaction to the end of the play was almost as much fun as when we experienced it ourselves.

Our partners in crime also stayed with us for a bite to eat and we ended up talking about books. Turns out, Jeff, Holly, and Tiny are avid readers! Tom (Christine’s husband and one of the actors in the play) was able to join us between groups. He’s not pictured to keep his identity a secret. It was a delightful afternoon spent chatting with friends about words. Bliss.

Our fellow conspirators: Jeff, Holly, and Tiny

Obviously, not all of you live near San Diego, but if you do — go see Accomplice! It’s fun, quirky, and a good time. There are other cities that do this sort of thing, so check it out and see if you live near a town that does. Or, get together with some friends and make up your own play for a summer treat. Okay, maybe that was just crazy talk, but I loved this experience that much. I can’t thank my friend Christine enough for taking me. Without her, I probably never would have done something so unusual, but now, I’m going to look for more wacky adventures like this one.
Accomplice: San Diego is produced by the La Jolla Playhouse, to learn more about this amazing theater and the play, check out their website.

Thank you for this exposition, Tameri! This raises the question: what do readers think can be done to bring other forms of story-telling closer to the audiences? What kinds of lessons or applications can writers draw from Accomplice?

Check out Tameri's blog, A Cup of Tea and Sorcery. You can find her on Twitter @TameriEtherton.

Guest blogger: JD Mader on writing

The critically-acclaimed author of Joe Café, The Biker and other works, JD Mader is swapping guest blog posts with me this week. Read about the best and the worst that JD Mader ever did as a writer, and then check out his blog, Avoiding the Stairs.

 

 The Best and Worst Things I’ve Ever Done (as a writer)

Let’s start with the bad. I majored in Creative Writing. My focus was short fiction. I had no aspirations at being a novelist then. One could focus on Novel, Poetry, Playwriting—and everyone had to take a few classes outside their interest. This was fine with me. I don’t dig poetry, but I spent years writing lyrics for my bands, so that was easy. I like novels and that was a fun class. Somewhere there is a plan for a novel and a good chunk of writing (terrible, I’m sure).

The playwriting class…ugh. At the time, I hated writing dialogue. It took me many hours of eavesdropping and transcribing random peoples’ conversations to get comfortable with dialogue. I knew the importance of good dialogue. Anyway, guess what there is a shit-ton of in a play?


I was pretty serious about writing when I was in college. I was also pretty serious about killing my brain cells and playing music and working and…you get the idea. I knew I could write a play that would get me an A. But I didn’t try. I copped out. The play I wrote all took place between two people trapped in an elevator.


It was a smart-ass move. I got my grade, but I didn’t get the point. I wish I could go back and try again. My teacher was a very accomplished playwright. It was an opportunity I blew.

I started writing professionally when I was 14 or 15, as a sportswriter in San Diego. When I moved to San Francisco for college, I just left. No thank you, no goodbye. I would do that over again, too. I didn’t appreciate the majesty of that opportunity until a decade had passed. (Bonus screw-up.)

What’s the best thing I’ve ever done?

The best thing is easy. For six years I worked with low-income, at-risk youth in San Francisco. I wore a lot of hats, but the best part was that I got to teach writing workshops to kids who did not read, did not write, and had little interest in doing so. I designed the workshop…or I should say we did.

The interest came quickly, and a lot of the kids were amazing writers. They weren’t emulating Kerouac like I did when I was in high school. They had original, unique voices, and I got to help them realize that.


We wrote as a group all the time. I was writing all day long with my students. We all produced an amazing amount of work, and we wrote in many forms. I didn’t shy away from any of them. And I shared my regret about my “play” with my kids.



We became very close, and they had some very intense stuff to write about. After the first couple of classes, the kids would come to class fired up and ready to write. They wrote on their own and brought me things to read. We wrote for the pure joy of seeing what could come out of our brains. They learned a lot. I probably learned more.



That was the most fun I have ever had with writing. Not only was I writing all the time, but I got to talk about writing all the time. And I can talk about writing forever. It also surprised me how much I knew. I was very, very lucky to get paid to do something as wonderful as writing with kids.

Since I threw in a bonus bad one, here’s my bonus good’un. My friend Pat and I have been writing and recording music together for twenty years. When I ask my four year old daughter what music she wants to listen to, she always says, “Dadda and Pat! Dadda and Pat!” That makes me about as happy as any writer has a right to be.

JD Mader is a writer and musician living in the Bay area. He is also a husband and a father. He has written countless short stories (many of which have been included in the collection Please, no eyes). He is the author of the critically acclaimed Joe Café and, more recently, The Biker (A Matt Stark Novel) — the first in a trilogy. In addition, Mader is a staff writer with www.indiesunlimited.com, and co-founder of the mighty www.blergpop.com where you can find fiction, ramblings, and even a profanity-laced advice column. Mader likes to fish in his off time…he also likes to sit on “Francine and Dadda Rock” and talk about “stuff.”

Check out JD's website, where you can see him bending baseball bats with his bare arms; YouTube channel and Amazon author page. This week, I'm his guest blogger on Avoiding the stairs.

Good, bad, even ugly: Refining your writing

The newest guest blogger in the “best and worst I have ever done — as a writer” is Michele Chiappetta , known to her fans and Twitter followers as the Chipper Muse. As usual, my guest post will appear on her blog — but read her words, first. You’ll be glad you did!

A quick glance at the best sellers list often makes it seem that quality is in the eye of the reader—that mediocre books written still manage to sell magnificently. (I’m looking at you, Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey.)

And the stories of writers having tremendous success in self-publishing imply that all you need to do is write it, and they will come, emerging from the cornfields of Iowa with their e-readers. Especially if you’re selling something for 99 cents.

In today’s publishing environment, does it actually matter whether your writing is good, bad, or ugly?

For any serious writer, I think the answer is yes. Writing is a business and an art; you have to know what is good and what is bad because it affects your sales, and because it shapes how you pursue your artistic vision.

But since your definition of good and bad writing may not be the same as the readers who buy the books, you have to figure out how you’ll evaluate yourself so you can improve at your craft and satisfy your goals.

Obviously, good writing begins with the basics, the things we all can agree on: using correct grammar and spelling, proofing your work to make sure you didn’t leave out words, using proper paragraphing, laying out your book so that it is easy on the reader’s eye, and so on. But beyond that, what makes your writing good, bad, or even ugly?

I’d say good writing is something I’m proud to put my name on. It rises to high standards of quality. It contains creative, musical phrases that entice without being exhaustingly purple. It catches the reader up into a magical swirl of catharsis. It entertains. It’s accessible. It honors reader expectations of the genre. And most importantly, it conveys the message I want to share.

I’ve had plenty of personal experience with the good, the bad, and the ugly in my years as a writer. But you know, if you hit bottom, you can only go up, right?

When I was bad

My personal worst piece of writing was the first draft of a short story I created for a weeklong creative writing seminar at Manhattanville College. I wrote the piece in second person, present tense, as an experiment, and I have since shredded the original, horrible draft for my own sake. I don’t want the evidence to condemn me or, God forbid, be published after I’m dead.

But let’s just say it sounded something like this. And bear in mind, since I shredded the actual draft, this is just my own recollection of its contents, and the original was much, much worse:

You walk along the lonely streets, noticing how dirty they are, noticing the stink of garbage and thinking that your whole life stinks just as bad. You hate your life, you hate how unfair everything is, and you just wish it would all end. No one has it as rough as you, and you know it. But there’s nothing you can do, and no one cares.

I shared this piece with the class. Man, they hated the old guy, absolutely loathed this depressed, critical, grumpy old man. In fact, they hated him and the overall tone so much that no one wanted to read any further. And who can blame them, right? Whiny people are annoying.

Unfortunately for me, I was trying to create empathy instead of loathing, so I failed miserably. And what’s even worse: the readers thought my protagonist was an elderly, depressed man, rather than the teenager I’d meant him to be.

Yes, my bad. Literally. My bad writing. I don’t think you can get much worse than thinking you’re writing about a likable, self-absorbed teen only to be told, “Nope, sounds like a hateful geezer. I hope he dies.”

But I learned several important lessons about making my writing good that day:

1. Sometimes the critique group is right. Sometimes, the truth is harsh, and you’ll be humiliated, but that’s okay. It won’t kill you. If you learn from it, you’ll be better off the next time you write.
2. Sometimes what you think you’re doing only works in your head, and not on paper. And if it doesn’t work on paper, you didn’t do your job, so you shouldn’t be surprised when you don’t get published or paid, and your readers want your character to die.
3. Good writing takes effort. It’s not easy. Don’t expect it to be. Instead, do whatever it takes to fix what isn’t working. That’s what makes you a writer instead of a wannabe.

Good writing, like a lot of things, is a combination of many factors: a unique voice, tone, theme, compelling and believable characters, dialogue that entertains and drives plot forward, eye- and ear-catching descriptions, a sense of how to make the tropes of your chosen genre work for you… If you want to be good, you’ve got to work at it.

And that means you have to risk being bad, even ugly, before you get good. You can’t afford a whole lot of pride, because it doesn’t lead to good writing. If you want to get good, you have to spend the effort, listen to others, do research, learn how to turn feedback into effective edits…

You must develop your craft by any means necessary

It’ll take many hours and a lot of words you’ll never publish, but you’ll eventually arrive at the point where you write something you don’t mind sharing on a guest blog, like this piece of a scene of my novel-in-progress:

The sheathed sword rested in an umbrella stand by the door. Hard rain drummed against the door and windows, creating a pleasant, sleepy rhythm that soothed the little girl as she stared at the sword and thought about what she wanted to do. She crouched comfortably on her heels between the washing machine and the wall. It was one of her favorite hiding places when her mother and father argued, as they did now, in the back bedroom they shared. They had obviously forgotten all about their daughter, and had given her no orders at all for a change. Their voices drowned beneath the storm’s thunder and drumming rainfall. And so she had a moment’s peace.

Which was why the sword called to her now.

She had always wanted to see it up close, to touch it and understand it the way her father did. He spent much of his time with it; he checked each day to make sure it was where it was supposed to be. And many times, he took it and disappeared into the fields with it, perhaps to practice with it or clean it in secret. The little girl was never sure what he did. He didn’t allow her to accompany him when he took the sword out. She tried to follow him often enough, but he always managed to leave her behind and evade her spying eyes. His legs were so much longer than hers that she couldn’t keep up with him. And he was cunning.

“You’re only five,” he said to her. “You don’t need the sword yet. You’ll see it one day, when you’re ready.”

I know that piece is not perfect. But it’s a hell of a lot better than the grumpy old man fiasco. And if I continue to learn and practice, I can only go up from here. My writing will get gooder.

And yeah, I know that’s not a word. But I couldn’t resist. (That’s why good writers need editors, but that’s another guest blog post.)

Copyright © 2012 by M.A. Chiappetta. All rights reserved. Used by permission of the author.

M.A. Chiappetta has been writing since she was a kid. And sometimes she’s even good at it. She writes full-time as a nonprofit PR person, and part-time as a novelist and blogger. You can find her at The Chipper Muse blog, which covers writing, creativity, things that make her laugh, books and movies, and anything else that catches her attention. And be sure to like her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter, where she likes to chat real-time about real things, so that she can get to know you.

Creativity can kill

The best and worst of Valerie Strawmier

Valerie Strawmier blogs and tweets as Miss Wordy (MissWordy.com and @Miss_Wordy), and she has submitted to my nefarious campaign I mean, graciously agreed to participate in my “best and worst” blog tour.

What’s the best that Valerie Strawmier does, as a writer? She says they’re the same thing.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times—sounds like a story I once read….oh wait, that’s my life!

Everyone has their skills, things they really excel at, as well as weaknesses. My strength and weakness are kind of the same characteristic—the one thing that really hurts me is also the one thing that makes me crazy happy!

Enough stalling…I admit it, my creativity kills me.

You know those times when your brain gives you this awesome story line while you’re lying in bed? This is the part where I grab a notepad and a pen and turn on the lamp (dimly, so as not to disturb the hubby) and start writing as quickly as possible to get it on paper.

Another great example is being right in the middle of a writing project when another inspiration springs out of nowhere and shines so brightly you can’t focus on what you’re doing. Out comes the pen….you get the picture.

These brilliant flashes of inspiration are wonderful and they keep me going. They give me a new twist on old ideas and help me share things in a way that’s unique to me.

Then again, the brain can only take so much. All that enthusiasm going in several different directions results in several bunny trails that never get fully explored.

When you have all those unfinished projects lying around, it can have the opposite effect and make you think you’ll never get any of them done—talk about a downer.

So my cure for this has become the very tool that helps to cause it in the first place—my pen and paper.

This doesn’t mean that I neglect to write down my ideas or creative inspirations. On the contrary, I have all of them written somewhere depending on where I was when lightning struck.

It does mean that I now have a priority system in place. Somewhere in the brain there’s a drug that’s released every time you get to check something off a list—at least there is in mine. Every completed task now gets a check—but only when it’s done in the right order!

Now, each day, I take a look at everything on this list. I put numbers by each one based on how important it is and whether it affects any current projects I’m working on.

If so, and it’s going to improve what I already need to finish, then I mark act on it immediately.

However, if it’s going to slow me down and only apply to the next project, it receives a lower rating.

This is how I have learned to organize my brain, channel my enthusiasm and take the cure for the creativity-killer.

All that lightning is surely going to fry more than a few brain cells if I don’t direct it into productive channels. That’s why the pen and paper were invented and that’s why they are now my best friends.

I am a very happily married (17 years!), mother of two beautiful kids, and I love to write! This site lets me connect with others who enjoy the same thing and may be looking for help. Thank you for reading!

Valerie Strawmier blogs at http://www.misswordy.com/. Follow her on Twitter @Miss_Wordy.

My guest post on her blog is about my greatest challenge as a writer. Now that you’ve read her post, read mine.