Author: Beth Hull

How to Become a Better Writer

Posted on by Beth Hull

Because I knew everything when I was 13. Possibly 12 or 14. Carbon dating is not currently in my skill set, so we’re going by the tiny circles dotting the i’s (it’s faint, but maybe you can see it a tiny bit? Yeah, barely, sorry, couldn’t find a “darken” feature on my scanner).

But first. When people say “from the archives” in BlogLand, I think they usually mean a past blog post. Not so in this case. “The archives” are an old filing cabinet, a gift from my BFF B-Dawg. Covered in stickers (the file cabinet, not the friend):

I can't wait to tear apart the vampire and werewolf stories I found! This file cabinet is almost better than the New Kids On the Block pillowcase I found in my old doll closet. The wonders of exploring our garage/time capsule.

Here’s the list!

1. Strong characters

2. Learn lots on different subjects

3. Make stronger plots

4. Make “touching” stories, but keep humor

5. Don’t give yourself limits, be creative

6. It’s not bad to draw in the margins, it helps you think

7. Plot story before writing. [Okay, I’ve been refraining from commenting on my juvenile “advice,” but I have to interject here. I LOVE plotting. I could plot all day. But after finishing one set of revisions on The Black City, I’ve been writing fiction without plotting, and it’s great fun. Scary, but fun. And most people will advise you to do the opposite, to just write & let the characters lead you wherever their little hearts desire, but I just wanna say: do what works best for YOU.]

8. Work on self-discipline, you need lots [You may also want to explore punctuation options because your ignorance of the semi-colon is driving me crazy.]

9. Increase vocabulary

10. Clean up room, cleaner environments give you more ideas [See, this has been a problem for me since childhood.]

11. If you run out of ideas, stop because if you feel bored, readers will feel bored [Again, IGNORE this advice. If you run out of ideas, keep going. Something will come, maybe something you’re not expecting. Or maybe total crap. But see #8 above.]

12. Study and/or invent the background that you want your story to have [Do I mean setting here? We’d have to send a message in a time-travel capsule to ask my younger self.]

13. Make lists of things that you want in your story [I’ve always been a fan of lists.]

14. Keep a diary and it increases your vocabulary and sense of feelings

15. Make stupid lists like this when you’re bored

Marooned!

Posted on by Beth Hull

When you move into a house that has been previously lived in, there might be a few…how can I put this delicately…inherited items. (Indelicate translation: You’re gonna have to deal with crap left there by the previous owners.) These things can range from household cleaners (Scrubbing Bubbles), bath mats (one of which is still in the house. Kinda gross, but that’s how we roll, I guess), an RV cover (don’t even let me get started on that), faded, historic-archival-paper-colored vertical blinds, and maroon curtains. And really, I think we had it easy.

It would be easier if we were quicker on tackling those kinds of things that are Ugly and Soul-Demeaning and Kill You A Little Bit Every Time You Look At Them. Looking at them happens often, especially if they’re located in the front room, copied in triplicate, and use roughly the same amount of fabric as a debutante gown would need if it were created for a blue whale. And her two BFF blue whales.

Window 1

Window 2

Window 3

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the tassled valances to come down. Actually, I have my mother to thank for this one. (Don’t worry, I’ll remember you on Mother’s Day!) I so wish I could share a photo of the tassled valances because they were awful. Well-meaning friends described them as macabre, theatrical, and funereal. I thought that was giving the valances too much credit.

Two years, three months, and twenty-six days have passed since we moved into this house and became the chagrined owners of these Maroon Curtains (something this terrible needs to be capitalized, like Ebola, Hurricane Katrina, and Voldemort).

I’m writing this blog post as a sort of experiment. Last time I complained bitterly about a Horrifying Aspect of Interior Design (again, came with the house), it changed, and it changed quickly. Will this blog post do the trick, now that my laziness and suffering have been shared with the public? Or will I continue to suffer, staring past my maroon-framed windows to the neighbors’ houses across the street and wondering, with a wistful sigh, what color curtains they get to stare past?

The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

Posted on by Beth Hull

Why, oh why did the Internet eat my book review?

I shall have to start again, but I warn you, I’m not quite as excited to do this a second time.

The set-up: Lennie’s used to following her older sister, Bailey, around. Bailey has all the experiences with boys and doesn’t seem afraid to live. Then Bailey dies, and Lennie doesn’t know where she fits in the world anymore.

Main character’s goal: The goal changes, but without giving too much away I can say that at one point Lennie’s goal is to ignore one boy – the boy who lets her feel her grief for her sister’s death without getting swallowed up by it, and pursue the second boy – the one who is all light and happiness and helps her feel that she’s moving on from Bailey’s death.

My reaction: I thought the love triangle was done exceptionally well, and the characters were incredible, larger-than-life people. Even Bailey, who died before the story begins, is full and flawed and fabulous. The writing itself was lyrical, and I wondered how much of it was the author trying to be artistic and how much was truly Lennie’s voice. However, that was my writerly self wondering, and my readerly self kept saying, “Shut up and just enjoy the prose, you know you like it.”

Of interest to writers: The poems throughout – poems Lennie scribbles on whatever available writing surface there is, and are described as found in various places, like under a rock, or in the margins of Wuthering Heights, well, I enjoyed them and all, but then when I got to the end and ***mild spoiler alert here*** they actually had a purpose in the story line (even if it was a small purpose), I was impressed.

Bottom line: Read it for the beauty of the language, or the deliciousness of Lennie’s conflict, or the roundness of the characters…but just read it.

Reminds me of: Into the Wild Nerd Yonder by Julie Halpern.

Tidbits: Friday Free-for-All

Posted on by Beth Hull

Idea adapted from my friend’s blog In the Land of Ridd. She calls hers “Ridd Quicks,” and I’ve been sitting here, burning my eyeballs out on the computer screen and trying to come up with something clever. The closest I’ve gotten is “Bethie Bits,” but that smacks too much of “Bacon Bits” (smacks, get it?) so we’ll just not call it anything. This is in the true spirit of a Friday Free-for-All post. I had some other topics, like my vacuum cleaner, but I’ll save them for another Friday. (I know, there are so many great things to look forward to.)

1. Ethiopian Restaurant: There’s one nearby, and my friend D-Chan and I went there today. Sadly, I’d already eaten lunch, but I pecked at some of D-Chan’s food, and it was DELICIOUS. My first Ethiopian cuisine experience was a success, and D-Chan was even generous enough to give me her leftover Chicken Tibbs and a bit of the injera bread, so I can enjoy it again for lunch tomorrow. We went for gelato afterward. I think I am surprising no one by saying I enjoyed mine.

2. My current work-in-progress is being reviewed by eight critique partners. I’ve heard back from four so far, and am really excited about their feedback…even when it’s hard to hear that your novel isn’t, like, totally completely magnificent don’t-change-a-word-perfect. As excited as I am to make the changes they’re suggesting, I’m going to give the manuscript a full month to breathe so I’m not hovering over her like an insecure boyfriend. Give her a little space, let some other people listen to her and hear what she has to say.

3. I’m super-excited about Easter this year, because we have both sets of parents, as well as my younger brother’s family, coming to the house. We’ve been working hard to clean things up, but the yard is still wild-looking. I blame the weather, not laziness.

4. Husband and I are in Season 3 of Prison Break, and even though it is not everything Season 1 was, we’re still hooked. For me it’s always a battle to not read each episode’s mini-synopsis on Netflix before we hit the play button. So many episodes are spoiled because I’m a fast reader. Sometimes I pretend I didn’t read them, because Husband and I have a game of trying to predict the weirdest things in episodes. Then I’m like, “Dude, I predict he is really a woman and he used to date the lion-tamer slash tightrope-walker back when they were in juvie.” And then it happens, and Husband is amazed at my clairvoyant skills. Actually he uses his Super Powers of Deduction and says, “Dude, you read the mini-synopsis.” (Okay, he doesn’t really say “dude.”)

5. Finally, a shout out to my amazing critique partners – even if you haven’t yet finished my manuscript. Thank you to (in alphabetical order by first name)…Danica, Jeri, Kary, Margaret, Melissa, Pam, Pat, and Seven! How cool it would be if someday The Black City is actually published, like, in a BOOK, and I can put you on the acknowledgements page. (Just discovered, there is a book called The Black City, or maybe The Black Town. It’s in Hungarian, so the translation leaves a little room for interpretation. This, coupled with another series coming out next month, The Dark City, has me re-evaluating the title of my novel.) But back to my amazing critique partners: until TBC is published (with whatever title works), you get part of a blog post. You deserve so much more.

Clean Up, Clean Up, Everybody, Everywhere…

Posted on by Beth Hull

…Clean up, clean up, before your mom pulls out her hair.

Somewhere in the universe there is a two-and-a-half-year-old who does everything she is told, when she is told. And happily. She doesn’t even whine. She says, “Okay, Mommy,” and scrapes her leftovers into the trash, and puts on her shoes when it’s time to go, and stops picking at her effing fingernails when you remind her not to because they will become bloody stumps otherwise. (Ahem. This is another issue I’ve been struggling with. But this is not the place, not today.)

I’ve never seen that two-and-a-half-year-old. She’s not in this house. Here we have the Ever-Suffering Mother trying to manage an adorable monster. We’ve tried bribing her to clean up by giving her “special occasion” toys. We’ve tried special songs – from the ever-popular classic “Clean Up, Clean Up” to Ricky Martin’s upbeat “Pegate,” to the ever-inspiring “Love Shack” by the B52’s. We’ve tried time-outs. We’ve tried time-ins. (Not really the time-ins, I just thought it sounded good.) Finally, what worked best was taking toys away if she didn’t clean them up.

Why did it work best? Not for the reason you’d hope, that she’d be suddenly transformed into a little cleaner-upper at the thought of losing her precious stuffed animal friends. No. It works best because when the toys disappear to the basement, there is less for her to clean up the next night, and the night after, and so on. Because the Ever-Suffering Mother does NOT traipse down to the basement every day to collect whatever toys were banished the day previous. So they sort of collect there.

The family room empties, the basement fills up.

And then, yesterday. I brought up armloads of toys from the basement, some of them Z hasn’t seen in ages. I made piles of toys in the family room. Guess what she did. Okay, fine, I’ll tell you: she put them away. And then she said something kind of sad, but so cute. “I’m not taking anything out.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Then I won’t have to put it away!”

The "friends" are so much happier when theyre hidden away in their little nest. Z doesnt buy this logic.