Do or Dye

BJ's posted yesterday on eyebrow waxing reminded me that I have a hair appointment tomorrow morning to touch up my hair's roots. It's bad. As in, I'll walk in the door and they'll, like BJ, immediately know why I am there and usher me to the back before the rest of the salon can see and think they somehow were involved in all my rooty glory.

I change hair color like some people change socks. I go back and forth from blonde, to blonde-blonde, to blondish-brown, to brown-brown, and back again like a color wheel out of control. Traditionally, women like to go lighter in the spring/summer and darker in the fall/winter. Well right now I'm blonde, and I'm considering going browner again for the coming season, but...I can't decide. So I started a mass poll of family and friends, asking which color they preferred better, and somehow feeling borderline insulted regardless of their answer.

Its like that with writing.

Sometimes, we have to let the opinions go. We have to take the advice with a smile and gritted teeth and then do what we want to do.

I'm not talking about "rules". Some rules in writing, especially Christian fiction writing, really must be followed to produce a quality project. Readers (and editors!) expect certain things that really can't be bent.

I'm referring to the "other stuff". Like when a friend proof-reads your manuscript and somehow has you doubting your heroine's name, even though you spent hours researching the meaning and making sure it fit her personality perfectly. Or when you spend forever forming a really neat metaphor that you think totally rocks and a crit partner says doesn't work. If you're brand new to writing, get a second opinion and investigate. If you're not, then....DO WHAT YOU WANT. It is YOUR story.

I hear alllll the time of writers growing so frustrated because, in their insecurity, they asked for too many opinions and after implementing all the changes, realized there were too many cooks in the kitchen and the once delicious, bubbling pot of stew now tasted like their favorite leather pump.

Too many opinions can kill a writer's story.

So trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Write YOUR story. Yes, get second opinions. Yes, listen to someone if they tell you that something really jolted them from the flow or if you have a typo or a grammatical error or something else along those lines. But for the parts of the story that make it yours, keep it yours.

I still have no idea what color my hair will be after ten o'clock tomorrow morning. But I do know that I am making the choice =)

On Tweezing and Writing

I always wanted cute eyebrows like the other girls. You know -- the kind that curve and then come down perfectly in just the right spot. But no. My eyebrows wander haphazardly across my forehead like a village of lost caterpillars.

"Don't do it," my friend Amy warned when I told her I wanted to fix my brows. "Don't touch them."

Amy and I have been friends since we were three years old. She has seen the effects of my impulsive self-makeovers.

"Do you not remember the perm that made you look like Richard Simmons?" she asked. "Or the rub-on tan that turned you into a crunchy carrot stick?"

"But…"

"I'm telling you," she said. "Leave this to the professionals."

"Leave this to the professionals," I told myself as I walked into the salon. "Leave this to the professionals." But somehow placing my fuzzy face into the hands of a stranger with hot wax was not comforting… no matter how professional that stranger was.

"Waxing?" the man at the counter asked when he took one look at my caterpillars.

"Yes. How'd you…"

"Right this way."

What happened next is a secret every salon guards more carefully than the government guards its most filthy dirt.

"Lie down," the woman with the hot wax said. That's right. You read that correctly. She told me to lie down.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "What is this? Minor surgery?"

"No speak English," she said. "Lie down."

I made her job easy, because with the words "No speak English," every hair on my entire body stood on end.

What was I doing? I wondered. What was I thinking?

RIP! RIP! Suddenly my face stung like I'd spent 2 days on the beach with no sunscreen.

"Did you leave my eyelashes?" I asked.

Hot Wax Lady eyed me suspiciously as she plopped the mirror in my lap. Shakily, I picked it up and stared.

"You like?" she asked, smiling.

"I… I… I…" I tried to breathe.

It's a good thing I was already on my back.

I'd never seen anything like it. Tiny strands of hair wandered aimlessly above my eyelids. Everything else was gone. Gone.

I didn't like the caterpillars, but they were better than the little line of picnic ants now wandering across my skull.

My puffy eyes welled with tears. How could I ever show my face in public again?

"Looks nice," Hot Wax Lady said. "Seven dollars."

It's been 2 days since I almost slugged Hot Wax Lady. I taught her a few new words in English, but I'm not sure I can repeat them here.

What I can repeat here is that I learned something from all of this. The more I thought about it the more I realized -- my eyebrows weren't the only thing that could be over-waxed.

No, I'm not talking about the hair on my upper lip. I am talking about my words. That's right -- my words.

I don't know about you, but sometimes a little voice inside of me whispers, "Hey you! Your prose is wild, fluffy, and distracting. Rip it out!"

That voice is right. Unfortunately, I take it a little too seriously. My self-edits leave the piece looking like a red, puffy, swollen wordless wonder. The journalist inside of me screams, "Just the facts! Just the facts!" And I obey.

If you're like me and you tend to over-edit, here's a piece of advice: ask someone else to do it for you. Or in the words of my friend Amy, LEAVE THIS TO THE PROFESSIONALS.

But do yourself favor. If that editor says, "No speak English," run out of the door as fast as your hairy little legs can carry you.

****
B.J. Hamrick is a journalist, newspaper columnist, and Real Teen Faith editor-est.

What writers can learn from Project Runway

I'll admit it right now. I love Project Runway. And for someone who's totally not into high fashion (or any kind of fashion, really) that's saying something.

I've been trying to watch all the episodes in order this season, and I wonder... What can writers learn from fashion designers? After all, we're both creative types. We both can be attached to our work in sometimes unreasonable ways. Here are some random things writers can learn from Project Runway:

1. Writers need to have confidence in themselves.

The fashion designers who succeed on Project Runway are confident in their abilities. Sometimes too confident, but that's another story! It is possible to be confident without being cocky. Believe in your work. Believe in yourself. With God's help, you can become a great writer!

2. Stay true to yourself, but learn from constructive criticism.

Don't be so confident that you aren't open to the advice of experts, but still be confident. Be careful who you let read your work. Or at least be careful who's advice you believe. I'll give a lot more weight to the critique of a published novelist than I will say, my neighbor across the street. :) The designers, and writers, who excel are the ones who weigh the criticism carefully and apply what feels right to them, but also discard the extraneous.

3. Don't be afraid to have fun!

If you enjoyed "designing" a piece of writing, chances are your readers will enjoy reading it. Now go, go, go, writers ... and make it work!

My Aha! Moment

While it wasn't really a crossroads because I always knew I loved words and had to do something, anything, to get a few in print one day, there was a brief moment in high school when I actually considered studying education, rather than my beloved journalism, in college.

And can I just tell you that my Mom loved, loved, loved this brief diversion?

See, Moms are loving but also very practical people. And when you grow up in a family where you're the first one to actually go off to college, well, there's some pretty great expectations. As in, you better land a good job once all the studying is through. None of this starving artist stuff is going to do...

While I know she believed in me and my potential, landing a job in writing just felt infinitely more difficult than oh, say, teaching. But for some reason, and I like to think it was a God-thing, I simply couldn't resign myself to the second best career opportunity. While grading papers and getting students excited about literature and writing definitely had its appeal (and me, ever the optimistic, actually believed I could inspire them, even if I wasn't always the epitome of grace, elegance and paying attention in class either), I knew that I had to learn more about the craft of writing to have any shot at actually pursuing it for a living.

So I majored in journalism...not education.

And now more than 10 years into my writing career, I'm sure glad that I did. These days, in particular, it's not always easy being a working writer. The statistics are stacked against us, the gigs not nearly as plentiful as they have been in year's past. And frankly, sometimes it's not that much fun waiting for checks and hoping your books will actually sell. But all things considered, there's still something that makes me all giddy about telling a story, or in many cases, other people's stories, and I'd encourage anyone who feels the same way to pursue his/her writing dreams, too.

After all, there will always be an opportunity to teach if writing doesn't work out. Or in my case, you can do a little of both sometimes. In fact, that's what I'm doing in about an hour. I'm off to Bethel University, where I'm going to be talking about blogging and social networking within the framework of building your writing career. Basically, I'll get to live out my Mom's former dream for me for a little less than two hours, and I won't even have to dress like this lady (see pic on the left). Thank goodness.

Rain, rain go away...

I

don't know about you guys, but it's been raining here in north Louisiana for literally weeks. I'm starting to wonder if I somehow unwittingly relocated to Forks, Washington with Bella and Edward. I miss the sun!

I think too many rainclouds affect your mood. It feels dreary and heavy on the soul. The occasional rainy day is fine - enjoyable, even - perfect for snuggling up with your favorite sweatshirt and hot cocoa and a good book. But too much of anything changes everything.

Maybe the lack of Vitamins from the sun have made me extra metaphorical, but I can't help but feel there's a lot of rain going around lately that has nothing to do with the drops outside. Everyone I know has something major happening in their life, hovering like a big gray cloud. Miscarriages. Unemployment. Deferred dreams. They need some sun.

Some Son.

I'm a little concerned myself today. There's been talk about the city where my husband is a fireman being in debt, and that layoffs for city officials are basically inevitable. It's just going to come down to how many spots they relieve, and from where. Firemen and policemen at this point are not yet "safe". That's pretty scary. I'm a stay at home mom, remember, and if Hubby lost this, I'd be going back to work, if I could find somewhere. Worse yet he'd be without his beloved career, be without the job that makes him happy, complete, purposed. It would be a nightmare. Talk about a thunderstorm!

But I'm trusting in the wind and rain. I'm holding to God's promises that He provides for His children. Of course I'm hoping that we won't be affected by this city's debt, but if we are, He still has a plan. We should all know something more in a few days.

Lots of humidity and around these parts lately. For some authors, that makes it easier to write, to escape, to get out of reality for awhile and control a universe somewhere when they can't control their own. But for me, its just distracting. I have deadlines I need to meet, as well as personal goals, but to be honest, it's really hard right now.

I don't want to be the girl hiding under the covers with a flashlight, terrifid. I want to be the one calmly going about my daily life as if the storm wasn't raging, because my faith is that firm. How about you? How do you handle the down times in life with your writing? Do you escape or do you feel extra inspired? Can you focus or are you a wreck until the storm passes?

No matter how long the clouds linger, one thing I know - if we just look hard enough, we'll always find the Son. Always.

The Agent

Recently I boarded a plane and prepared for the longest flight of my life – seven hours from coast to coast. No problem, I thought. I’m sitting in the front row. There’s easy access to the bathroom.

I didn’t count on the Gatorade.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, I was dehydrated. After six days of crying my way through the beautiful sessions at the writers' conference, I had no tears left. I needed to replenish.

The literary agent on the plane home was nice about my emotional state. “One of the editors at the conference really liked your stuff,” he said. "I think." Then he shuffled to the back of the plane while I tried not to focus on my swelling bladder.

Six minutes and six Gatorades later, I knew I needed to use the bathroom. Uhoh, I thought. Getting to the bathroom in the front of the plane was somewhat like trying to gain an audience with the Pope. Only more difficult.

This is because after 9/11, flight attendants were trained to – in the words of Napoleon Dynamite – use their “illegal ninja moves from the government”. If a person lingered anywhere near the cockpit hoping for a glimpse – just a tiny glimpse – of a “vacant” sign on the door, the crew reacted like the plane was spiraling into oblivion.

This mood fed a passenger camaraderie, somewhat like the Harding-Kerrigan friendship in the 1994 winter Olympics. Passengers were allowed to, in the name of good competition, bash each other in the legs in order to make it the bathroom first.

After about 10 minutes of observing this Harding-Kerrigan dynamic, I could hardly believe my eyes. The competition was over. I could – without risking my life – simply walk up to the bathroom and open the door.

My heart pounded. My feet darted. My fingers grasped the door handle.

So close.

“B.J.,” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Please be seated at this time.”

I couldn’t believe it. They were making me sit down. My bladder screamed. My mind reeled. My eyes stared at the carpet.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought the bathroom was empty? How could I have let all these people stare at me?

Wait a second.

How did the flight attendant know my name? With all the time-consuming illegal ninja move training from the government, how did he have a spare second to know who was sitting in the front row?

He didn’t.

My gaze wandered to the back of the plane. There he stood – right next to the microphone – the laughing literary agent. The one who could talk anyone into publishing anything had just talked the flight attendant into publishing my humiliation.

In a cruel twist of fate, a 4-year-old beat me to the bathroom. As the door slammed in my face, I realized just how much like the publishing world this plane ride was. Last year an editor loved my work – presented it to the rest of the team – and I was turned down in a later round of decision-making. Just when I was close – so close – I was asked to sit down.

Beware, publishing world. I am tired of your jokes. I am not above your games. My creative bladder is swelling, and if you don’t watch out – things are going to get messy.

****

BJ Hamrick is a journalist, humorist and editor for www.realteenfaith.com.

The Best Writing Advice I Ever Got

I started writing when I wasn't quite five years old. I wrote and illustrated my first novel around that time. "The Pupe (meaning Puppy)" was an enthralling tale about a little black puppy who took a nap and then woke up. I drew the whole thing on pink paper, then I cut it out and Mom helped me staple it together. I still have it.

I turned seventeen and decided, thanks to the encouragement from my parents, that I wanted to be a writer. So, Mom and I went to writing conferences together (some of my favorite memories!). At each conference, I would ask published writers what their best advice for me would be.

"Always start with an action scene," one author told me. So, I cut the first six pages of my WIP and worked on a new proposal.

"Stick with it and don't be afraid of rejection," another writer said. So, I stuck with the writing. Ideas came and went - some ideas I stuck with, some I didn't. I proposed without abandon and took rejection with a deep breath.

"Read everything you can get your hands on," another author mentioned. "But don't read as a reader, read as a writer." I tried to read with a discerning eye and discovered that my favorite books possessed a flow and poetry that I never noticed before.

But the best advice I ever got came from my Mom. We were talking late, late, late one night in our hotel room at one of the conferences and she said something that has stuck with me. "The writers I respect the most are the ones who are humble," she said.

A Christian writer is much more than just a writer. If the pen is mightier than the sword and the Word is sharper than a two-edged sword, think of the power that goes into each word you type. And be humbled.

CJ, Betsy and BJ talked about being called to write last week. Think about that call and think about the audience that you want to reach. And be humbled.

My copy-editor reminded me of the everlasting quality of the written word a little while ago. She was asking what my least favorite thing about writing was and I said that I hated how long everything took. You have to brainstorm an idea and really feel it out. You have to write a fabulous proposal. You have to find a great agent to propose this fabulous proposal. Then, you have to wait for what feels like forever for a decision from this magical entity called "The Publisher" and if it comes back as a "YAY!", then you get to write, wait for edits, make corrections, wait for copyedits, make more corrections, and wait for the finished product.

Tia said, "But words last for all eternity in a book!"

Be humbled.

If God has called you write, don't be proud. Don't be boasting about your talent. If anything, be scared. Wars begin and end with the written word. People live and die by the written word. God shares His love through the written Word.

Hone your gift. Work hard at what you do. Learn from the best. Words do last for eternity.

But humility is exemplified in Christ. And that is what we should aspire to.