Category Archives: Craft

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | February 8, 2013 · 9:44 pm

Group Writing Critique: “Holiday Parade” by Lisa Lynne Lewis

Welcome to the dogfight! Dogpatch Writers Collective occasionally posts excerpts of our group critiques of work in progress, and your comments are welcomed! For this round we requested a story from Southern California–based writer Lisa Lynne Lewis (see her bio below). We very much enjoyed reading “Holiday Parade” and give our thanks to Lisa for being part of this forum. This was a particularly interesting endeavor for us, as we all had a slightly different takeaway from the story, which made for a thoughtful as well as enjoyable discussion. You can find more of Lisa’s work at Literary Mama.

From “Holiday Parade”

Emily held her pink-mittened hands over her ears. “Why do they have to do that? It’s so loud!”

Debra looked at her daughter, hands still over her ears, her light-brown hair spilling over the fake fur hood of her silver parka. She’d seemed pretty unconcerned about the lockdown when Debra had picked her up after school on Monday. “It was gross when they made the boys pee in the trashcan,” she confided in Debra. “Mitchell and Ben really had to go, but the teacher wouldn’t let them out to go to the boy’s bathroom.”

“That is kind of gross,” Debra agreed.

“But it was in the corner and she put the flip chart in front of it so we couldn’t see,” Emily added. “So it was OK.”

Comments from the Dogpatch:

Thanks for the story, Lisa! Here are my thoughts: This piece is about being safe in the world and the folly of thinking we can be “safe” anywhere. This delusion is and should be owned solely by children. Being a parent, I identify with this theme as my son gets older and loses his innocence. And I see this in action when parents move out of the city to the “safe” suburbs or small town rural areas. It’s a timely topic, given the recent massacre on the East Coast. Continue reading →

3 Comments

Filed under Craft, Dogfight

Tagged as group writing critique, Lewis Buzbee, Lisa Lynne Lewis, Literary Mama, lockdown, Modern Love Rejects, Sophie's Choice

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | January 29, 2013 · 11:25 am

Dear Dogpatch Readers,

Check out this great discussion from Limebird Writers!

Limebird Writers

“Description is an opinion about the world. Find a place to stand.” Anne Enright

Sometimes you hear a quote, or a simple of piece of advice, and everything suddenly falls into place. The above quote did that for me. Of course I was aware that descriptions need opinion in order to bring them to life, but it wasn’t until I read that quote that I really internalised what that meant. It isn’t just about adding an opinion to description, it’s about recognising that description IS an opinion.

Whose opinion should it be though? If you are writing a memoir piece, or an article then the opinion can of course be yours, but in fiction it should usually be the opinion of the character whose point of view we are with at the time (although there will be times where it is more appropriate for the opinion to be that of…

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Filed under Craft

Tagged as Limebird Writers

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | January 17, 2013 · 6:42 pm

Cate Perry on Hooking

Dogpatch Writers Collective welcomes guest contributor Cate Perry.

Angela sat on the edge of the hospital bed, letting the news sink in: Her own heart was a ticking time bomb.

Now that I’ve got your attention, allow me to take a step back and tell you Angela’s life story in 100% exposition. She was born on May 7, 1985. She had blonde curly hair that turned brown over time. She never caused her parents any trouble. Now she works as a receptionist for Happy Days Travel Agency. Every day at breakfast, she eats an apple and blah, blah, BLAH!!!

We’ve all heard the bleak news about slush piles. Agent panels at writers’ conferences around North America tell us 95% of their submissions are crap, while 5% are decent enough to read past the first couple pages. And when we hear this, we simultaneously ask ourselves the same, pleading silent question: Would my work merit that 5%?

When I started as an intern for a literary agency five years ago, I got to answer that question for myself. Moreover, I got to see the 95% who got rejected and why. Continue reading →

4 Comments

Filed under Craft, Publication

Tagged as agenting, Cate Perry, creative writing, getting published, story hooks

by Jilanne Hoffmann | January 5, 2013 · 12:08 am

Composting 101

Symptoms	Problem	Solutions
Story has unpleasant odor.	Not enough air due to overwrought word choice or compaction. If there is an odor of ammonia, too much pure crap is standing in the way of the real story.	Strip the pile of its dense, soggy materials and replace with crisp, crackling prose to soak up excess bulls#!t. Turn the pile, add fresh material, and move narrative elements around to aerate. Cover pile (put in drawer to rest) until inclement weather subsides.
Story is rich and warm only in the center. Failure to build heat/tension.	Pile is too small. Narrative elements are missing. Insufficient conflict. Not enough air. See first symptom. Lack of nitrogen. Rich material is superficial. Go deeper.	Make pile bigger. Identify missing narrative elements. Add water by sticking a garden hose into the center in several locations. Turn the pile to aerate narrative elements. Mix in nitrogen, otherwise known as conflict. Add or remove backstory. Toss and start over!!!!
Story temperature exceeds 160°F.	Not enough air, lack of carbon, prose is turning purple.	Turn the pile to aerate. Mix in 2 parts Hemingway for every one part bad Faulkner.
Large, undecomposed items remain in the story even after considerable time has passed.	Ya got some clunkers there.	Read to friends and remove sections that make them grimace. Shred clunkers before adding new material.
In the middle of the night, rodents, coyotes, and raccoons lurk in the shadows near the story, waiting for a chance to raid the juicy bits.	Your prose is attracting aggressive nocturnal elements.	This is usually a sign that the writing is going well. Animal-proof your work area only if this bothers you.

5 Comments

Filed under Craft

Tagged as compost, compost pile, composting, conflict, craft, Faulkner, Hemingway, my story stinks, narrative elements, nitrogen, organic matter, purple prose, rough draft, tension, unpleasant odor, writing

by Laurel Leigh | January 2, 2013 · 7:45 pm

Too Much In the Sun

Dear Writers:

The behavior of couples in coffee shops is endlessly fascinating to me. There’s the match/e-harmony/zoosk/cupid.com-type coffee dates, all pressed and dressed and cute and eager, one of them hoping for 25 years of loving matrimony, the other angling for 25 minutes in the sack; the omg-we’re-soooo-in-love-and-have-pet-names-for-each-other-that-seriously-annoy-everyone-else-as-if-we-all-haven’t-had-our-own-schmoopie-at-one-time-or-another cuddly pair; the “study” dates, where he’s clearly enamored with her and she thinks of him as her practically-a-girlfriend-who-happens-to-be-really-good-at-chemistry or vice versa; the been-together-too-long-and-could-barely-stand-each-other to-begin-with ones, and my personal faves, the too-quirky-for-a-category couple. Of course, I eavesdrop on them all, because you can pick up really good dialogue to use in stories, plus I’m nosy as hell.

The last pair I observed had difficulty agreeing on where to sit. She unloaded her coat, ample purse, phone, bagle, napkins, and latte at a table by the window, but her mate protested:

Him: Not that table.

Her: But I already put my stuff down.

Him: But do you remember, how we were sitting there and the sun got in my eyes?

Her: Yes, but the sun isn’t shining.

Him: But do you remember how it was?

Her: Uh-huh.

[Repeat the “Do you remember” “Uh-huh” bit a few times with increasing plaintiveness on his part and increasing annoyance on hers.]

Her: Okay, but like I said, the sun isn’t shining.

Him: But it will be eventually.

Gotta love a guy who can efficiently anticipate peril, get being upset done with in advance, and get his gal to sigh loudly, scoop up her coat, purse, phone, bagel, napkins, and latte and relocate to another table four feet away to avoid a problem that hasn’t actually happened and by the look of the sky ain’t gonna. Continue reading →

4 Comments

Filed under Craft, Notes from the coffee shop

Tagged as character obstacles, coffee, coffee dates, creative writing

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | December 18, 2012 · 10:43 am

Scene Questions

We all can probably remember a particularly vivid and effective scene from a great story. The unmasking scene in Junot Díaz’s story “Ysrael.” The riot scene in Dagoberto Gilb’s book The Flowers. The opening scene in Mary Karr’s Liars’ Club. The death of Father in Peter Rock’s My Abandonment. Most scenes by Antonya Nelson. The ending of The Grapes of Wrath. Shakespeare’s classic Nunnery Scene. Haven’t we all thought—if I could write a scene like that, it would be a truly spectacular scene.

We came up with some questions to keep in mind as you write, and you can probably think of a lot more.

What is the story genre in which this scene will take place?
What defines the story world in which the scene dwells?
What are the writer’s rules for the story world? Continue reading →

3 Comments

Filed under Craft

Tagged as Antonya Nelson, creative writing, Dagoberto Gilb, dramatic payoff, Drown, Junot Diaz, Mary Karr, My Abandonment, Nunnery Scene, Peter Rock, scenes, The Grapes of Wrath, writing scenes

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | November 18, 2012 · 9:20 am

Group Writing Critique: BABY KILLER by Laurel Leigh

It’s dogfight time. Laurel Leigh’s BABY KILLER is a memoir about a splintered family grappling with questions about a young man’s guilt or innocence. Getting ready to revise the full manuscript, Laurel has asked us to examine the opening—here’s an excerpt. Dogpatch Writers Collective occasionally posts these excerpts of our group critiques of work in progress, and your comments are welcomed.

From Baby Killer

: Anthony Shaw Arrest Picture

Nursey tells me everything she’s learned: Baby Alex had been beaten before. He visibly showed signs of abuse according to the emergency-room doctors. It’s unclear how Alison was or wasn’t involved in abusing him. On the evening of his death, the baby woke up and threw up and peed on Anthony. Nursey isn’t sure whether the vomit provoked the crucial beating or whether it was an aftermath. Anthony and Alison took the baby to the hospital hours later when they realized something was wrong with him.

“An investigator called me,” Nursey tells me.

“You talked to an investigator?”

“She wanted to know what people, you know in the family, had said about Anthony. I told her, ‘I’ll help you but I don’t know everything.’ So I guess I’m working for the prosecution if anything, nailing the coffin in the head.”

At another time my sister’s off way of describing things would make me smile and want to hug her.

Read a longer excerpt at: http://www.laurelleighwriter.com/publications/baby-killer/

Comments from the Dogpatch: Continue reading →

4 Comments

Filed under Craft, Dogfight

Tagged as Anthony Shaw, Baby Killer, Bellingham, memoir

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | October 24, 2012 · 8:29 pm

Group Writing Critique: “Abandon Hope” by Jilanne Hoffmann

Welcome to the dogfight! Here’s a snippet from a short story by Jilanne Hoffmann, followed by critical comments. Dogpatch Writers Collective occasionally posts these excerpts of our group critiques of work in progress, and your comments are welcomed!

From “Abandon Hope”

I flip through the pages until I find the map of hell I’d been trying to draw. I trace the outer circle that says “Limbo” with my finger and then spiral through the circles until I reach the Circle of the Violent and remember Henry memorizing, “But now look down the valley. Coming closer you will see the river of blood that boils the souls of those who through their violence injured others.” I look up quickly to see if Henry is sitting in a dark corner of the basement waiting to jump out and scare me, but he isn’t. I haven’t seen Henry for two days, and I’m ready for this game to be over. Maybe if I just sit and wait he’ll surprise me. So I slam the book shut, squint my eyes real tight and sit there, trying not to breathe. Then I turn off the lights and stare up at the constellations. In the dark I can pretend he’s right here with me.

Comments from the Dogpatch:

Dear Jill: This story is sick! You’ve created a truly tragic scenario in this story, made more so by the restraint with which it is told and by the narrator’s own lack of understanding of the true implications of her own innocent actions. Pile on that her mother is completely shattered by her own historical grief and unaware of who her daughter is, and this is a story that sticks with a reader long after the pages have been put down. You do an amazing job of allowing the reader to correctly intuit what the narrator herself doesn’t know, and that makes the heartbreaking effect of the story even stronger. Nicely done! I hate you! Continue reading →

3 Comments

Filed under Craft, Dogfight

Tagged as Baseball, Constellations, Dante's Inferno, Family Relationships, Lizzie Borden, Orion, point of view, writing critique

by Dogpatch Writers Collective | August 31, 2012 · 3:44 pm

Group Writing Critique: “National Pastime” by Wes Pierce

Welcome to the dogfight! Here’s a snippet from a short story by Wes Pierce, followed by critical comments. Dogpatch Writers Collective occasionally posts these excerpts of our group critiques of work in progress, and your comments are welcomed!

From “National Pastime”

They sit in their usual seats. Tony has season tickets on the front row of the first balcony, right alongside third base. ‘Best seats in the house,’ according to Tony. Her husband makes a lot of money, so he can afford the best seats in the house. But for Beryl they are not the best seats in the house, they’re the worst: she is afraid of heights.

Tony knows this. ‘We’re only twenty feet up. Thirty, tops,’ he says, whenever she brings up her fear of heights. ‘What’s twenty or thirty feet?’

‘But couldn’t we sit just a few rows back?’ she says. ‘Couldn’t we sit lower down?’

‘I don’t want to sit a few rows back. I don’t want to sit lower down,’ Tony says. ‘You can’t take in the whole field lower down. I want to sit right here.’

Tony says she only has to be logical about it.

‘You’re not going to fall, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ he says. ‘And besides, we’re only twenty feet up. Thirty, tops. So even if you did fall, you’re not really going to get hurt, you know. Not if you keep your head. If you were to fall from up here, but you kept your head, you’d be all right. Oh, you might break a leg or an arm. But you wouldn’t die or anything.’

Comments from the Dogpatch:

Wes,

You’ve got a harrowing story and a parent’s nightmare—being seated next to an obnoxious drunk at some “family” event they’re attending with their child. They don’t want to leave the seats they’ve paid good money for. They don’t want to make a scene. They want to make nice while maintaining a psychic distance from the annoying ass and hope that nothing gets out of hand. Until it does. Continue reading →

3 Comments

Filed under Craft, Dogfight

Tagged as Baseball, drinking, Francine Prose, national pastime, point of view, writing critique

by Laurel Leigh | August 28, 2012 · 11:37 am

Beauty and the Brain

Dear Writers,

You may be familiar with the Marilyn Monroe–Albert Einstein illusion that operates on the peculiarities of our vision system. Up close, where we perceive detail, the image looks like the great thinker Albert Einstein, but back away a few feet and our eyes will naturally adjust to a less-detailed rendering, allowing the features to resemble the stunning actress Marilyn Monroe. I think both perspectives as well as the distance at which our eyes struggle to decide who we’re seeing is interesting to a writer working to craft character.

Of course, how to describe characters when introducing them to the reader poses one challenge for writers. As emerging writers, at some point we all likely included some awkwardness in that initial description, perhaps including the unfortunate moment when the protagonist surveys herself/himself/itself in a hand mirror/shop window/pond and thoughtfully regards her/his/its own long blonde curls/spiky brown hair/man-killing tentacles. An author like the Franklin W. Dixon ghost troupe just puts it out there, letting us know by page 2 of The Secret Agent on Flight 101 that Joe Hardy is “blond and seventeen,” “enjoys joking,” and is “more impulsive” than his “dark-haird, eighteen-year-old brother.” Oh yeah, both ace teen detectives are “trim all-around athletes,” too. Continue reading →