Craft of Writing: Learning to Say Goodbye by Nannette Croce

About a year ago staff member Wil Hough blogged The Art of Editorial Infanticide, where he noted that "Any word unable to justify its existence is best killed off—not only in poetry, but in essay and short story editing as well." Learning to excise ineffectual words is a valuable skill all writers should work toward. Less important, perhaps, in terms of actually improving your craft, but as important in terms of saving precious time and fragile egos, is learning to say goodbye to those ineffectual completed works from our portfolio—those poems, essays, short stories, and, yes, even novels, that aren't being published because—well, maybe they just aren't as good as we think.

We all have those pieces. We've worked them and re-worked them. Submitted and re-submitted, but we've clung to the main theme and the same characters, and, for some reason, no one else seems to find the great value in them that we do. Still, we keep trying because something—the story itself, our purpose in writing it, or simply having lived with it for so long, has caused a deep connection that, like a love affair gone bad, we just can't quite give up on.

A classic example is Norman McClean. For decades, McClean, a journalist and writing teacher, struggled with an epic novel about George Armstrong Custer. It was not until late in life, after his retirement, that he finally gave up on that novel and followed the old standard of "write what you know." The result was a short story collection set in his native Montana including the poetically written title story "A River Runs Through It," eventually produced into a successful movie by Robert Redford, and followed by the very successful (but posthumously published) creative nonfiction Young Men and Fire.

My own epiphany came with, thankfully, a short story and not an entire novel, but in the time I'd spent revising and submitting it—about four years—I could have written a couple of novels. I was inspired—more accurately, driven—to write it by my first trip to the Southwest. It dealt with Pueblo potters, collectors, colonialism, spirituality, and servitude, all connected (or so I thought) by the theme of feral dogs.

In those four years I'd shortened it and lengthened it, added characters and taken some out, and perfected the dialogue. Then, at a recent workshop, I had the opportunity for a one-on-one critique of my work by the workshop leader, a successful author in the literary genre. In addition to our workshop pieces we could include one work in progress. Of course I included my pueblo piece, and the verdict, in far more words and put as kindly as possible, was the equivalent of "fuggetaboutit."

Devastated, I obsessed on it all the way back to my room, totally overlooking the mostly positive comments he'd had about my newer work. But by the time I arrived I'd remembered something. When I'd first written that story, I hadn't liked it either. I'd told the story I wanted to tell but from the POV of a character I really didn't know. The result, as I'd explained to another writing friend, lacked heart. My instructor said "depth," but really it was the same thing. Over the years I'd convinced myself I'd fixed the fatal flaw, while in reality I'd fixed everything else but.

That's not to say you should regularly dump your work based on a single bad opinion, but when that opinion comes from someone you respect and who generally likes your work, it's time to weigh it seriously—especially when that opinion reflects something you've pretty much known all along, but couldn't accept.

Back at my room I clicked on that file and dragged it to the trash. Maybe someday I will attempt to tell that story again, but it requires a different POV, many fewer characters and a more unified theme. Until then, I'm glad I learned to say goodbye.


Nannette Croce is Co-Managing Editor of The Rose & Thorn. Her short story The Box of Cereal recently appeared in the Winter '07 issue of The Rose & Thorn. Another of her short stories, "The Foundations of Churchill," will appear in the inaugural issue of Sotto Voce this fall.

Part Three: Do You Need an Editor Now? by Kathryn Magendie

You’ve written your draft. You’ve polished it until it shined. You’ve had readers read and comment, and you’ve tweaked it again. Your manuscript is shiny and lovely. You are ready to query agents. You stop and think, “Should I get my novel professionally edited first?”

Here is where there is a bit of gray area. Whether you pay a professional editor (or a “book doctor") to help you refine your manuscript will be according to how comfortable you are with your final draft. It will depend on whether you feel good about not only grammar and punctuation (which, while having it perfect is not necessarily an issue, having it messy and unprofessional will be) and spelling, but consistency in voice and in point of view, whether those things the readers are “tracking” are resolved—did you tie up those “loose ends,” does the beginning entice and the ending satisfy? There are many things a good editor can do for your manuscript. It’s a tough world out there, the publishing industry is. For it is a business, and like any business, there is always competition. With competition, there is always someone else who wants to win. Yes, there are writers who can write a novel that is not a polished gem, and that writer can find an agent, and that agent can find an editor and then a publisher. However, it is my opinion one must have their manuscript clean and professional before beginning the query process.

So, am I saying to pay an editor? No. And I say this even though I edit novels as a freelance editor. Editing will add another layer of expense to your novel-writing budget. And face it: writers do not make much money from their writing, even after publishing a book. The hours you sweat over your manuscript are hours you are not paid for. Then, when the query process begins, there is the paper and ink to print (or the printing company, if you choose that route), the cost of postage and envelopes, the gas driving to and from the post office and/or printers. Professional editing can add substantially to that budget. And, as well, it is completely on the hope that once you spend the time and money, your manuscript will be picked up by an agent and then a publisher. Face it: it may not happen as quickly as you like (I will not say it will not happen, for I believe in never giving up) and months (years?) could go by without success.

Finding an editor to help you polish your manuscript should be a well-thought-out personal decision. However, if you know your manuscript needs help, help that you aren’t equipped to give it, then do your homework and find an editor you trust. There are editors (and book doctors) galore out there. Ask questions. See if they will look at a sample of your work before you both decide—and I say “both decide” because the editor must feel she is the right editor for you, as well. Find out what the editor’s fees are, and what those fees will cover. Make sure everything is up front so there is a complete understanding between the two of you—author and editor—of what you as the author needs and what the editor provides, and at what costs, how much time it will take, etc.

Whatever you decide, once you hold that Final Manuscript, the manuscript you feel is the best it can be, then you are ready to begin the query process. Whether you decide to query agents, go directly to publishers, small presses, or even if your goal is only to self-publish, you now have a manuscript you can be proud of.

Part Four... now what?

Kathryn Magendie is a writer and editor, and Senior Editor/Senior Newsletter Editor at The Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine. Kat’s essays, poetry, short stories, book reviews, interviews, photography, feature stories, restaurant reviews, interviews, and columns have been published in print and online publications. She has a successful blog, writes with three other Rose & Thorn writers in a year of gratitude blog (YOG), and as she has done here, participates in the Roses & Thorns blog. She has completed two novels and is at last in the query process.

Part Two: The First Draft is Written. Now What? by Kathryn Magendie

In Part One, “Writing the Novel to the End,” I wrote about working until you have the first draft of your novel. You are now done, right? Well, of course not. Unless your goal is to say at that party, “I have written a novel.” If that’s all you want, a feeling of accomplishment, then congratulations! Put the novel in a drawer and every now and then pull it out and pet it, hold it to your chest, show it to your friends from a distance (for, surely, since it is a first draft, you don’t want anyone to read your words…your baby…your life work in all its raw form). There is no law, or Rules of Being a Writer, that says one must publish what one has written; however, I happen to want my words to be read, and read by many. I’m crazy that way.

For those of you who want more, like, perhaps, publication, then your work is not done. It’s time for re-writes. The good news is, the first read-through and re-write can be fun: the material is still fresh and new. As you read, you are surprised all over again by your genius, “I wrote that? Wow, I’m good.” Also, knowing your characters, setting, point of view, plot, etc., from beginning to end gives you insights you didn’t have when writing that first draft. You can study the work from the advantage of seeing it as a whole. Even for those of you who write outlines, surely there was the occasional surprise along the way when you were deep into the guts of writing your draft?

In my first re-writes, I am concerned with things such as: do I have the character’s voice and point of view consistent, have I connected all my dots (readers “track” things while reading, so I want to make sure I follow through on those seemingly innocent things I’ve dropped that the reader will pick up and carry with them through the novel—I can’t leave them hanging in the wind!), does the story move at a pace I am happy with, is my dialogue natural (and “artificially natural” dialogue, not “real people” dialogue. For example, in real people dialogue, there may be lots of “Hey, how are you,” “I’m fine, but my gout's acting up,” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, I’ve had this aching rumble in my stomach for weeks,” “Again? Um, well, er, could it be you need, um, fiber?” “Hmm, um, let’s see, I eat lots of carrots, does that count?” “I don’t know. I guess. But, last week Aunt Mabel tried, er, let’s see, yeah, she tried Metamucil,” “Oh, did it work? I thought about trying that. Saw the commercial for it, right after Law and Order, you know that episode with the guy who got shot and there was a brunette or something, I can’t really remember, anyway, there was this commercial with that music that gets on my nerves, and…” A bit much, right? Unless, maybe, you are writing a comic look at people who talk about their aches and bathroom habits. And those "ums" and "ers" can be bumpy and unnatural in dialogue. Artificially natural dialogue sounds natural, but is tweaked by you, the writer, to move the story at a pace to keep the reader happily and smoothly reading).

I like to do my first edits right onto my Word document. This allows me to fix or tweak anything on the spot. Then, when I am in the final stages, I print out my manuscript and read the entire novel on paper. I can’t explain why, but reading work on paper does make a difference in how I “see” things. Some say to read your work aloud. I can’t imagine reading an entire novel aloud (egads!); however, I suggest reading aloud those areas that feel unnatural or bumpy. It is up to the individual writer how many re-writes/edits are needed to polish a manuscript. The more practice you have at writing, the fewer intensive re-writes you may need.

So, you’ve written that first draft. You’ve gone through several re-writes. You’ve printed the manuscript and read it. You’ve tweaked and fiddled and polished. You feel as if the manuscript is the best you can get it. What now? Should you query that agent? Maybe, but not so fast (and again, there are always exceptions. I’ve had the exception myself…it’s a strange and funny and weird business, anything and everything can happen). There is another step that can help you refine your manuscript even more.

Find Readers. I don’t mean your spouse, your momma and daddy and best friend since high school (although, yes, they can read it and offer insights), but someone(s) you trust who you know will give you honest feedback, even if it hurts, even if it makes you cry with frustration, even if you get criticism that forces you to return to the manuscript and re-write again (augh!). A good honest objective reader is gold. Perhaps someone in your writer’s group can trade novels with you. Is there someone in your circle of acquaintances who loves to read and won’t mind telling you what they honestly think? I was lucky, for I had readers contact me asking if they could be readers and I only had to choose those I felt comfortable with, and another author and I traded our manuscripts to read and comment. Finding readers can be a bit delicate, but as long as you are prudent, you should be able to find someone(s) trusted who will be happy to help.

Alternatively, you can pay an editor to read and edit your manuscript; however, I will talk about editors in Part Three.


Kathryn Magendie is a writer and editor, and Senior Editor/Senior Newsletter Editor at The Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine. Kat’s essays, poetry, short stories, book reviews, interviews, and photography have been published in places such as, Western North Carolina Woman Magazine (also won first place in WNCW 2008 Short Story contest); Literal Latte, BoomerWomen. Our Stories; OCEAN Magazine; A Cup of Comfort for Writers; Moondance-Celebrating Creative Women; C/Oasis: Writing for the Connected World; The Rose & Thorn; Jubilee Anthology-Nichols State University (novel excerpt); Halfway Down the Stairs, Drollerie Press (short story coming soon); Lunch Hour Stories (coming July 2008); L'Intrigue, the Wild Magnolia of Literature; and feature stories, restaurant reviews, interviews, columns in various publications. She has a successful blog, writes with three other Rose & Thorn writers in a year of gratitude blog (YOG), and as she has done here, participates in the Roses & Thorns blog. She has completed two novels and is at last in the query process.

Part One: Writing Your Novel to The End by Kathryn Magendie

You have finished your novel. It’s a masterpiece. You’ll find an agent and the agent will find an editor and the editor will convince the publisher to publish it. The major bookstores line their shelves with it and your books sell out, the indie bookstores beg you to do author signings. Oprah calls—she’s read your book and wants to put it on her summer reading list and in fact has bought enough to put under the chairs of her audience for the next five shows. You are set. That’s what your wonderful imagination tells you when you write, “The End.”

Well, have you come to “The End?” If you have indeed written and completed a novel, I want you right now to take your right hand, lift it up and behind your shoulder, and give yourself a pat on the back. You have already accomplished something great and wonderful. If you doubt that, next time you are at a party, say, “I just wrote a novel,” and listen to how many people answer, “Oh! I have five novels in my head,” or, “I started a novel ten years ago, but I haven’t finished it.” The care and discipline and love, sweat, and frustration that comes from writing and then completing a novel is momentous—I want you to internalize this feeling of accomplishment, believe in its significance. Writing a novel to completion is one of the most frustratingly beautiful things you will ever do, but it is a commitment, and with all commitments, it requires discipline.

There are stories galore out there from published novel writers who tell the unpublished novel writer how they were published—listen to them and see what fits for you. The road to writing a novel, cleaning it up, getting it polished to within an inch of its life, and then querying agents or publishers is a long, hard haul. Sure, there are stories of writers who quickly write a novel, find an agent, and are published with a seemingly ease and speed that leaves most writers saying, “Wha? Huh?” I don’t want to go there right now, so we’ll leave those writers out of this equation. I’m talking to You—those of you who have written or are writing novels that take time, patience, and most frustrating of all, the re-writes.

Why don’t I start at the beginning? And, in a series of posts, take you through from “start to finish” (as Rachael Ray says, her hands doing that frenzied “here to there” thing) in the mad mad mad journey of “I’m writing a novel, Lord help me I must be crazy, shoot me now.” We begin, in Part One, in, well, in the beginning. You and your computer (and I am going to make the assumption here you will write onto your computer. If you prefer long-hand, just pretend thusly). Maybe you begin with an idea, a plot, a character, or a first line, an ending, an image—who cares? Just write. Sit at the computer and type a sentence. Then another. Then the rest. Until you actually sit down and write that first sentence, all you have is…nothing. You are the person at the party who says, “I have five novels in my head!” Once you begin a new work, this is not the time to self-edit. I repeat: No Self-Editing in the Early Stages of Writing. This is not the time to read back over a paragraph and say, “Oh, I suck! I must re-do this paragraph before I go on,” and you re-do that paragraph, then you still don’t like it so you scratch it and start over and you still aren’t happy so you write it again—and you see where I’m going? Next you know, days or weeks (don’t tell me months! I won’t hear of it) have passed by and you still have that one paragraph. Hit it while it’s hot, force yourself to ignore the words as they appear on the page, because, and this I can guarantee for at least 95% of you who are really serious about writing that novel, if you keep going without self-editing or without becoming obsessive about what you have written, if you write and just write, your subconscious mind will kick in gear, and out will come The Story. The Story will embed itself in your words, sentences, paragraphs, pages. Don’t stop writing until you are emptied, no matter how much you think the writing “sucks.” This is an important step—to get words on the page. Who cares if later you end up ripping out thousands of words? (And in another post I want to talk to you about just that—ripping out words). If you write 20,000 words and rip out 5,000, you still have 15,000 words!

When you “run out of steam,” when the words stop and you feel stuck, then is the time to read back over what you’ve written—and if you run out of steam with just that first paragraph or page and truly can’t go on, then perhaps you are heading in a direction that isn’t working, try another approach, another character’s point of view, another time, place—you get the idea. Assuming you have a good chunk of writing once you feel emptied, I find that if I start at the beginning again and read what I’ve written, it will spur off another round of ideas and thoughts, and, more words. Another trick is to put the work aside, and either read another author’s writing, or write something unrelated—a poem, a short story, another novel (egads, yes I have done this craziness). This will distract you from the frustrated feeling of: “you just can’t think of anything and must have that awful writers’ block everyone talks about.” Well, I don’t believe in writers’ block. I believe there are always words. But, there are times when we have to pull away and see things from a distance.

(If you write “genre fiction” then this process may feel a bit different for you. Horror, thriller, romance, fantasy, genre writing has stronger, or more obvious, plot lines than “literary” or “character driven,” non-genre, work, and thus, maybe it makes more sense for you genre writers to have outlines, plotting out the story in a more efficient way—I can’t do this, but, it works for some writers. Do what feels natural for you. Do what works. Just write.)

So, you’ve thought of this character, idea, plot, image, opening sentence. You’ve sat down and began writing. You wrote a sentence, then two, then five, then five hundred, then five thousand. You’ve kept going without self-editing until nothing else will come. Then, you’ve distracted yourself in some way, and later came back to the work and it all seems fresh and happy again. You begin writing more words, and more more more, and presto chango madness abounds, the first draft is completed. Congratulations! Please, as I said earlier, stop and pat that back, give yourself kudos. Now, what next? What do you do after you have that first draft of your novel? Part Two of this series continues in another post…


Kathryn Magendie is a writer and editor, and Senior Editor/Senior Newsletter Editor at The Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine. Kat’s essays, poetry, short stories, book reviews, interviews, and photography have been published in places such as, Western North Carolina Woman Magazine (also won first place in WNCW 2008 Short Story contest); Literal Latte, BoomerWomen. Our Stories; OCEAN Magazine; A Cup of Comfort for Writers; Moondance-Celebrating Creative Women; C/Oasis: Writing for the Connected World; The Rose & Thorn; Jubilee Anthology-Nichols State University (novel excerpt); Halfway Down the Stairs, Drollerie Press (short story coming soon); Lunch Hour Stories (coming July 2008); L'Intrigue, the Wild Magnolia of Literature; and feature stories, restaurant reviews, interviews, columns in various publications. She has a successful blog, writes with three other Rose & Thorn writers in a year of gratitude blog (YOG), and as she has done here, participates in the Roses & Thorns blog. She has completed two novels and is at last in the query process.

Under the Cover of Darkness, by Wil Hough

“Why do you have to write about that?” she complained once again. “Can’t you ever come up with something nice—something I could show the grandkids or my friends?”

“But, dear,” I whined, “I’m not writing tracts for the local church. That’s the sort of thing that sells.”

“Well,” she answered, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable being married to someone who could write something like that.”

Have you ever heard that from your mate? I remember when I first began writing and thought I’d be able to share those deepest of inner thoughts and ideas with my soulmate. Hah! What a lesson! She recoiled like a vampire before a cross wielded by a true believer. Unfortunately, that is what it takes. As a result, writing is often a solitary endeavor. Even when writing during normal working hours, we ply our trade under the cover of a self-imposed darkness.

For myself, however, that darkness is both literal and metaphorical lest I receive the ultimate cease and desist order. “You are not submitting that. I am not going to go on living in fear of having my house bombed!” It is a fact that controversy sells. That it sells best when authored by unknown sources futher lends itself to the game. Therefore,

I slip my cable, leaving
her comfortable berth with care, negotiating
a minefield of loose and creaky floorboards
till, at last, the warm glow of my monitor
welcomes the caress of fingertips
upon her keyboard. Quickly

I work, time has no meaning beyond
the present—any moment the call
may sound; “Honey,
Where are you?” Jesus,

saves and so do I, flushing
the handy toilet as I pass, maintaining
my cover.

Write On!


Wil Hough (a psuedonym for obvious reasons) is a founding member and senior editor of The Rose & Thorn, writes under the cover of darkeness from an undisclosed location known only to those who have read his previous postings—but, don't tell anyone.

Writing Classes: Are They Worth the Money? by Nannette Croce

It seems in the last decade or so the number of classes available to aspiring creative writers has exploded. They include enrichment courses offered by colleges and universities to non-matriculating students; adult night school classes; and innumerable online offerings. The prices vary widely. Online, for example, a class with Writer’s Village University might cost under $100, while a class with Gotham Writers’ Workshop runs closer to $400. College courses can cost even more.

How can a writer tell if the price of these courses is commensurate with the value, or if they need to take any classes at all?

To a large extent that will vary based on needs and expectations, but I've taken more than a few of these classes in my time, enough to give you some points to keep in mind when making your decision.

Don’t expect too much

Despite what they may advertise, no writing class can guarantee publication, and they won’t turn a rank amateur into a publishable writer. Don’t expect the equivalent of an MFA in six to ten weeks. Most simply focus on the basics like plot, tense, and POV. You may learn to avoid the verb “to be,” or to “show not tell,” but don’t expect to get into the nuances of sentence structure or word choice.

Ability of participants will vary widely

In non-selective classes—which most of these are—the abilities of participants will vary widely. Since most classes run on the workshop format, where participants share work and provide feedback, this can be a major factor in what you gain from the experience. Even when various levels of instruction are offered, if the only requirement is a prerequisite course, that’s no guarantee students were ready to move on to the next level. In the best scenario, at least some students’ work will inspire you to new levels. However, expect some participants who just want (usually undeserved) praise.

What is the instructor's role?

The instructor can, actually, make a world of difference no matter what the level of the participants. Some online classes set out a series of assignments but have no instructor at all or may have a facilitator who handles only technical issues. These classes can be helpful if you just want exercises to jump-start or improve your writing, but with no instructor, they have a tendency to disintegrate as students fall behind in assignments or drop out.

The best online classes provide feedback and regular “lecturing” from a competent instructor as well as—and this is rare online—certain demands on participants to get assignments in on time and make use of what they’ve learned. Some real-world and online classes may be run by well-published writers. This can certainly provide some valuable input and be worth a few extra dollars.

Online or Real-World

Nothing beats the convenience of online classes. You can attend in your pajamas, your instructor might live anywhere in the world, and while assignments have a deadline, you don’t usually need to be in a certain place at a certain time. On the other hand, while the level of instruction may vary in any class, you will never get, online, the one-on-one instruction or opportunity to ask specific questions about your work that you potentially receive in a real-world classroom.

Also, while that loosey-goosey quality of online makes for convenience, at least some students end up not taking it seriously, running late on assignments, and even dropping out, leaving you with only one or two other students or sometimes alone by then end of the class.

So, are writing classes worth the money?

In my experience, with non-selective programs you can probably learn just as much by reading a few good books and joining a writer’s group to get feedback. But sometimes the structure and discipline of a class can be valuable, not to mention the input of an enthusiastic instructor. Just don’t expect miracles and consider carefully before laying down a wad of money.


Nannette Croce is Co-Managing Editor of The Rose & Thorn and an official YOGer. Her work has appeared in various online and print publications including The Philadelphia Inquirer. For more information on her published work, visit her website.

What Editors Want by Nannette Croce

What editors want. Wouldn’t you like to know? Wouldn’t we all?

Not only because many of us at The Rose & Thorn are also writers who submit our own work, but because it would be nice if in our guidelines, we could simply list five or ten qualifications that, if met by every submitter, would guarantee acceptance. Believe me, it wouldn’t just simplify your job, it would simplify ours, too. Fewer submissions to read through. No more multiple readings. No soliciting opinions from other editors, and no painful rejections of pieces that were “oh so close,” wishing we could explain why. Instead, rejections would include a check list and submitters could easily see where they went wrong.

Too bad we can’t boil it down that easily.

Of course, there are criteria that apply across the board. Some have been mentioned in other posts.

We want clean copy. If there is still anyone out there laboring under the delusion that her work is so exceptional editors will overlook pages full of misspellings and bad grammar, get over yourself. It ain’t gonna happen. We’re editors, not proofreaders.

We expect a certain level of “sophistication” in your writing that says you read as well as write and you’ve checked out a couple of books or magazines to learn about craft. Things like lazy adverbs in your dialog tags—she said gleefully, sleepily, dejectedly—and any tag other than “said” unless absolutely necessary, shout amateur. Sentence lengths should vary and you should avoid the overuse of the verb “to be.” As in “Mary was wearing a green shirt” instead of “Mary wore a green shirt.”

So far, so good. We’ve just eliminated at least 75% of the submissions we receive, and at the risk of sounding harsh, those rejections don’t bother me because most of those submitters either haven’t taken time to perfect their craft or haven’t bothered to honestly compare their work to what we publish in our zine.

But it would be cruel to imply that all you need do is study up and follow the rules. Following the “rules” of the craft no more guarantees a great piece of writing than perfect color and perspective guarantees a great painting. It requires something else besides craft. It requires what I call the “wow” factor.

So what is this “wow” factor?

I can’t really explain it. And therein lies the problem.

All I can tell you is, there are times when I finish a story or essay (I don’t handle poetry, but I’d bet it applies) and quite literally say, “wow.” I don’t have to send you searching through several issues to find those stories. Check our Award Nominations. This year’s nominating process for Best of the Net, Best of the Web, Pushcart, and recently Million Writers and the Micro awards, was the easiest I remember. The same titles came up time after time. These stories had the “wow” factor. They stuck in our minds for months after they appeared in the zine, and, believe me, we read and edit lots of stories.

As a publication that prides itself on providing a venue for new and emerging writers as well as the more established, we often accept pieces that may not have quite reached the “wow” point but can get there with a little help. In fact, often it’s the less experienced writers who wow us the most. With no reputation to maintain, new writers can be fearless.

What makes it tougher is that the definition of quality doesn’t apply across the board. What wows us at The Rose & Thorn might bring instant rejection at The Colorado Review. That’s where reading several issues comes in. But know what to look for. Many writers make the mistake of looking for similarities in plot or characters. No publication wants the same story over and over with different names and locations. What you are looking for is style. For example, read some issues of the New Yorker and you’ll notice that they don’t put much emphasis on endings. The stories they publish tend to fade out like an old '60s Motown song. The stories we publish tend to have solid endings, not apocalyptic, but with a good finishing sentence or paragraph.

So, what do editors want? You tell me. That’s not sarcasm. I read so many different works, it’s hard to put it into words. You, the writer, tell me what I want every time you “wow” me.


Nannette Croce is Co-Managing Editor of The Rose & Thorn and an official YOGer. Her work has appeared in various online and print publications including The Philadelphia Inquirer. For more information on her published work, visit her website

Some Writing Thoughts, by Kat Magendie

There are a kajillion books and articles with tips for writers. There are writers galore offering up advice. There is an endless stream of things I could say and call them “writers tips.” It’s all been said before; I have nothing original. However, writers like to hear themselves talk talk talk talk talk. (Using words on the page, that is. We don’t do so well in person.) We crave an audience, and we’ll grab one up any chance we get.

Don’t necessarily listen to writers freely, or not so free-ly, giving out writers tips.

Maybe I should put it this way: Read the tips and find messages that seem to be repeated over and again by writers and by “experts” in the field (such as Strunk and White, or an editing or writing website or book—from places/people you trust). Find those tips on which all writers and editors agree, and then adapt them to your needs. The rest is only our individual experience or opinion anyway, and if it sounds right to you, then heed it; if it sounds like patootie on a stick, then discount it. Yet, if we have a common “theme” in our tips, it should perhaps be paid attention to, no? Yes! For example: One space after punctuation is, sometimes hotly, debated. One space after punctuation is Right! I say it now, with a firm hand (but you’ll still see writers using two spaces).

Practice. Practice. Practice.

Do you think a musician/vocalist says, “I know how to play the violin/piano/cello/trumpet perfectly, or I know how to sing beautifully, and so I don’t have to practice”? Even with a prodigy, there must be the continued playing of the instrument, or the inhalation and exhalation of voice, to keep the mind, lungs, or fingers supple. Do you think the star athlete sits on his butt and says, “I’m the best, so no need to practice”? The athlete knows she must practice, practice, practice. Why would writers be any different? Practice your craft.

Be true to your characters. Listen to them.

This is different for everyone. Personally, I put my fingers on the keyboard and let the characters “talk” to me; I let them take over. I usually have a vague image of a character and I’ll sit down to explore who the character is, and that may mean something they think or do or feel, or a quirk they possess, or an expression on their face. I begin with a sentence, then two, then three, and then more. And eventually, the character becomes clearer, and if I am lucky, becomes a “Real Person” who has their own life and wants and loves and dreams. If I try to shoehorn something into my story, the character won’t like it, meaning, it will be contrived and unreal and just “wrong” for that character. If I insist on keeping something in that doesn’t fit, my audience will know—oh yes, they will! Same as yours will. When we get in the way of our characters it is as if we’ve just written that phrase, or paragraph, or page in red neon ink. Our characters are the people we have created and formed, yes, but they are also “real people,” and just as you cannot force your will upon your friends and family, you should not force your will on your characters. Step back. Let them be who they are, separate from you.

Read. Read. Read.

Now, there is a good possibility that one can write, and write well, without reading. There is always the exception to any “rule” (Of course for all we know, exceptions are only fibbers! Ha! Perhaps they do their practicing in secret . . . yes. . . . maybe . . . well . . . anyway . . .). By reading, you learn what works, what doesn’t. You learn it’s okay to take risks. You learn you must know the rules to break them effectively. And reading takes you beyond the universe of your own mind and into someone else’s universe. Explore around, see what you find.

Read out of your usual genre or “favorite authors."

If you like romance novels, try reading a mystery. If you read nothing but Stephen King horrors, pick up another horror author’s books and try them. If you like novels, try short stories. Go to the library or to a used book store so you don’t feel as if you are “wasting” your money on books you are afraid you won’t enjoy. You may be surprised, though, and find an author or genre of writing different from the usual.

You’ve heard “write what you know.” Don’t always think of this in concrete terms, necessarily. Think of it in the abstract, as an ideal. Take it beyond the literal meaning.

If you do not know the meaning of terms such as: Point of View (POV), Tone, Voice, Tense—find out the meaning.

It you do not understand these terms and how to use them effectively, learn. These "basics" allow you to manipulate the language, mine the techniques, control your work—even if you break the rules in that "controlling."

Information overload

Too much information, as you may be feeling here by now, can be a dangerous thing. Too many voices in your head telling you what to do, not to do, how to do it, when to do it. When all is said and said and said and written and written and written, it is you, your computer or piece of paper and pen, and your own voice and words. Write, and let everything else be damned.


Kat Magendie is a writer, editor, and senior editor/newsletter editor at Rose & Thorn. She's been published here and there, and lives on a mountain called Killian's Knob, in the Great Smokies in Western North Carolina. Visit Kat's website at kathrynmagendie.com.

Fanning the Freelance Fires by Angie Ledbetter

Freelancing isn’t easy, whether you’re aiming to edit, write copy for specific industries, online zines or print publications, or some combination thereof. If you’re just getting started, the old adage about not giving up your day job is sound. What the average part-time freelancer makes annually probably won’t allow for personal insurance, but there are a few things you can do to boost your chances (and income) while prowling the freelance jungle.

First, do not undercut yourself. Devaluing your time and hard work makes it harder to raise your rates significantly later on. And please do not be one of the freelance writers who spends years bidding on work through write-for-hire sites or writing for pay-per-view places. By agreeing to take on only projects that pay pennies, you will soon slam into the burnout wall. You’ll also join the ranks of those who give their work away and make it harder for others to charge a living wage.

So, what can a freelancer do to improve his chances and his bank account when he has no or few clips in his portfolio? Be smart – spend a good deal of time researching the industry. Use search engines to find out what salaries full- and part-time freelancers earn. A good pay scale calculator can be found here: http://www.payscale.com/af/calc.aspx?af=2385&src=SH1&job=freelance&city=&state=

Knowing what you’re worth at the outset will serve your career well. Just like other industries, you’ll have to start out at the bottom, but once you’ve gotten some exposure and experience, you’ll at least know what to charge by the hour or project, according to national averages.

Look for smaller publications and industry newsletters to get your feet wet. There’s nothing wrong with writing pro bono for nonprofit agencies for a while when you’re new. The clips you build will move you into a more profitable future. Once you’re ready for the next level – paid freelancing jobs and projects – forge relationships with a few editors and publishers. This is easier to do than many writers think. By being accurate, submitting early vs. just at deadline or (gasp) past due, you endear yourself to employers. And always give them lagniappe (a little something extra) with each assignment: a nice sidebar of resources or statistics, free companion clip art, correlating jpegs, or even an offer of a follow-up article. Once you’ve got the publication’s style and readership down and have sold a few articles, you can offer to do a feature or series. When your relationship with the boss has solidified with happy results on both ends, maybe you can snag a weekly or monthly column.

When you have a few dependable markets in your stable, you can branch out. As in all businesses, start slowly and build steadily so as not to take on too much at once until you know what sort of workload you can comfortably manage.

By following the simple equation of thoroughly researching your market, turning in quality work ahead of schedule, and always providing a small bonus, you won’t be lumped into the ever-growing pile of available freelance sources. Remember: just because “free” appears in your job title, doesn’t mean you have to give your work away.

Angie Ledbetter is a freelance writer, author, and sometime poet. When not wrangling her three teens or teaching school, she works on various writing projects, including a fiction novel. She enjoys being part of The Rose & Thorn.

Rhythms by Kathyrn Magendie

There is a rhythm to the writing, and there is a rhythm to the reading. The writer through the language places words, phrases, paragraphs onto the page, much as a musician writes his music and then sends it out to the world for listeners to enjoy. When I am writing, I am not aware of the rhythm. I am manipulating the language, but its rhythm comes from instinct, not from controlled purpose. When I am reading, I am not aware of the rhythm; it is only when I’ve put the book down and reflect on it that the rhythm, or lack of it, becomes apparent.

Recently, I began a novel and while reading the first two chapters, I had the urge to put it down; something just wasn’t right between us. I felt awkward with my partner. But curiosity kept me reading to the third chapter, then the fourth, and along the way, I tapped into the rhythm of the writer’s words and began to enjoy the book. I thought, I’m so glad I didn’t put the book away or I’d have missed this waltz. I simply needed to fall in step with the writer: one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three . . .

My writer has no awareness of how in-tune we are to one another in the moment of my reading his words. He doesn’t know I am swaying in time, lifting up then setting down, dipping, rising falling—our dance. The writer and I have never been closer and I wish I could tell him, turn my head, look up into his face, say the words, “Your words have affected me, or moved me, or made me laugh, or entertained me, or made me think.” His characters dance along with us, apparitions who become solid and real through the sure hand of his writing, the hand at my back that guides me here, there, here, there, to places and events and people.

When I put the book down last night, I had to re-orient myself to space and time, to the silence in the room, the absence of character, language, song—rhythm. I look forward to this evening when Writer and I meet again, when he’ll take me in his arms and move me about the room. Yes, there are missteps; sometimes I step on a foot or he steps on mine, sometimes there is a discordant tone, or we bump into someone who gets in the way, but I don't care. We are partners: Reader and Writer.

I have this hope: that when others read my work they feel the rhythm with me, that I lead them through the beauty of the language, that together we dance. That they stay with me until we are partners: Writer and Reader.


By the way, the author I am reading now is Brian Morton, and the book is Starting Out in the Evening.



Kathryn Magendie is a writer and editor, and senior writer/newsletter editor at Rose & Thorn. Visit her at: her website, Got YOG? , and her personal blog.

Jump Start Your Muse by Samella McClary-Brown

Sometimes I find it challenging to find something to write about, but most often it’s finding what to say or add to a current work of fiction. When I find myself staring at a blank page, I try one of the following approaches: rereading one of my favorite novels, or re-watching a movie, most often a classic movie.

Some of the movies I re-watch are: Random Harvest (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Random_Harvest_(film), Marty (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marty), The Heiress (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Heiress), and for laughs, A Miracle at Morgan’s Creek (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Miracle_of_Morgan's_Creek). For the purposes of this, I’ll be talking about watching movies, in particular Random Harvest. I will try not to make this sound like a movie review, but I must explain the film in order for you to get the gist of my point of relating writing to a movie.

The movie is romantically dramatic and has a hint of suspense/mystery to it. It is based on the bestselling novel of the same name by James Hilton. Why not read the book? I’m awaiting a copy now, however, sometimes there’s just nothing like seeing a movie on the screen to help jump start the ideas that are floating around in my head. It’s a powerful story about a love that survives through years of being apart.

The movie begins by showing a corridor leading to an insane asylum, to a newly created military wing that takes us to our main character, Smitty, an amnesiac war veteran. Possible parents arrive, but unfortunately he’s not their son. He escapes the asylum and this is when he meets Paula, played by Greer Garson. Well, from the moment she meets him, she doesn’t let him out of her sight (later in the film, she admits this to him). They marry nonetheless and have a son, but he leaves for a business trip, only to be hit by a car, and acquires amnesia of a different kind–he’s forgotten his wife and child, and where he’s been the past few years–but remembers his life before this newfound family. Only as Hollywood could do it–he arrives at the lush family estate of his father’s the very night his father was buried.

As the movie moves along, we discover that Paula has actually not only found her husband but is working for him as his secretary–but he doesn’t remember her. He only knows what she’s told him: that she was married before and had a baby who died.

The years move on with him reestablishing the family business, growing it more financially sound; he even becomes engaged to another woman, but the past haunts him. He carries a key on a chain, but has no clue where it belongs–of course, the audience knows it belongs to the house he shared with Paula. As a means of convenience, he does eventually marry Paula. Being this close to him with no physical or emotional attachment is nearly more than she can bear, and this causes her to go away for a long visit–now, Smitty has grown quite found of her and can hardly bear the thought of her leaving. She leaves and, in the meantime, he begins to put the pieces of the puzzle together and in the last scene of the movie discovers who she is.

I mean, a great opening scene, conflict, couple meets and falls in love, they marry, they part, he nearly marries someone else as she stands by not able to tell him who she is. Amidst this, there is the hint of unrequited love for Paula by the psychiatrist who treated Smitty at the asylum, etc., etc. The middle is coupled with conflict, each scene propels you on forward to the end–and ultimate complex. I was told once, that in writing, each scene should move you forward to the next. And this movie accomplishes this superbly.

Who wouldn’t be inclined to sit down to write after watching such a compelling story? The only thing besides a bucket of popcorn and a box of Raisinets or Butterfingers would be to see it on the big screen.

Now pick a movie, and then take out a piece of blank paper or go to your computer screen and try your hand at crafting your own scenes. Let me know what you come up with.

Samella McClary-Brown lives in Chicago where her days are full with her in-home day care business and raising her family. She is the author of Suddenly, which can be purchased at Amazon.com or BarnesAndNoble.com. Her pen name is Samella Trent.

Unbelievable? by Sheri Whitlock

Imagine the following scenario and think about how plausible it seems.

A man and a woman, Sam and Nancy, after 15 years of marriage, decide that it's in everyone's best interest for them to divorce. They allow the children to decide who they will live with. The children divide themselves equally so each parent has a boy and a girl. The husband moves to Wisconsin and the wife moves to Virginia. The children are in constant contact with each other and the other parent.

Everyone seems happy enough the way things are, but the children do miss seeing each other. Nancy decides that she will take the two children who are living with her to see the other children over Christmas. She posts a comment mentioning the upcoming trip to a discussion group she has been participating in online. She receives an immediate reply from another woman, Cindy, in the group asking where it is in Wisconsin she will be visiting. Nancy tells her she'll be going to Janesville. It turns out that Cindy lives in Wisconsin, and her mother lives in Janesville. Not only that, but she has a child who attends school there. When Nancy talks to her children and asks if they know Cindy's children, she's told that not only do they know the child who attends school in Janesville, but she is also best friends with Nancy's daughter.

The two women decide they will meet during the visit to Wisconsin. When they do, they seem to get along okay and have plenty to talk about and they plan to meet again in a few days. Nancy tells Sam about the strange events and also lets him know that she will be meeting Cindy again in a few days.

The evening of their next meeting arrives. The two women are sitting in a bar having a drink when Sam walks in. He sits down and starts talking with them. He hits it off so well with Cindy that he asks her out on a date. From that moment on, they are inseparable. Things take their natural course and they eventually get married.

None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for Nancy joining a discussion group and mentioning her upcoming trip. Even though Cindy had a child who attended school in the same town as Nancy's children, it was unlikely Sam and Cindy would have met because Cindy's daughter went to her grandmother's house after school. Even though the two girls were best friends, it was unlikely that the parents would meet at school events because Sam worked nights.

If a writer were to use this or a similar scenario in a story it would seem too far fetched to be plausible. Writer's have to be careful how they bring events about in their stories. We're told that unless it's a story with supernatural elements that it's unbelievable and needs to be changed to something the reader will actually believe.

The question I put forth is a simple one; isn't fact often stranger than fiction? There have been so many human interest stories in local papers and news broadcasts that highlight unlikely events. We've heard about lost pets finding their way home across hundreds or even thousands of miles. We've also heard how pets have saved their owners lives by alerting someone else to the fact that something was wrong. Not all strange stories involve pets. Haven't all of us bumped into someone we haven't seen in years in an unlikely place, or after mentioning them or thinking about them just before?

The scenario I outlined above isn't fiction at all. It's a real life story that is 100% true. How do I know someone wasn't just feeding me an unlikely story? I know they weren't because I'm Nancy.

It's real events like this that make me think it's perfectly alright to use a farfetched idea once in awhile to make a story come about the way we want. The problem with doing that might be that some of us may want to rely on those farfetched schemes too often. Use them sparingly, but if you think you're right in doing so, please feel free to stick to your guns. It's your story after all.

Sheri Whitlock is a published poet and essayist. She lives in Scotland, where she is doing historical research in preparation of her first novel.

Developing Your Own Style by Sheri Whitlock

A writer’s own personal style is something that comes naturally; it is an extension of his or her personality. Since we express our own thoughts and ideas when we write, it stands to reason that would be the case. But just because it comes naturally, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t work at refining it.

My own personal style is very open and friendly. Some have described it as conversational, while others have said it is long-winded and wordy. The latter seems to be the case when I write something off the top of my head and don’t take the time to whittle it down and edit out what isn’t really needed. (Some of you may have noticed that with my last blog.) I’m a naturally vocal person who enjoys word play, and that tends to show in my writing because it is an essential part of who I am.

Who you are as a person should show in what you write. These are your thoughts and ideas given life on paper. Everything you write is a piece of yourself that you are giving to the world. You accomplish this with the words you choose, as well as the way you use those words in conjunction with each other and with punctuation. For those who write dialog, it becomes even more complicated, because they have to develop personalities for their characters.

Stephen King has been used more often than any other writer to demonstrate how a writer’s style can be unique. His writing has changed over the many years he has been writing, but there is still no doubt who the author is when you read his earlier works and compare them to his more recent. He is particularly well-known for his works of horror, but he is also very accomplished at showing distinct personalities in his characters outside of that genre. What sets him apart from other writers is that he can take an idea that is inconceivable and far-fetched, and make you believe it. He has refined this over the years to the point of mastery. With his skill, he leads the reader by the nose into the worlds he creates.

Don’t be afraid to try different things when you write, but don’t create characters and situations you can’t identify with in some way. Just as we control what aspects of our personality others see in our day-to-day lives, we can control what aspects of our personality show through in our writing. Those will change depending on the situation being created on paper, but it is important that the writer always have firm control, especially in cases that use dialog. Something which may help in these instances is to assign each character an aspect of your own personality or personality traits of people you know.

For those who write poetry, it’s an entirely different situation. Those poets we all know, like Robert Burns, Maya Angelou, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Edgar Allan Poe, all have a distinct style. The way a poet uses words is essential to the feel of their work. In poetry, more than in any other genre of writing, personality is imperative. Poets aren't just using words to paint a picture in the mind of the reader; poets are trying to whisk the reader away to the place their own thoughts and emotions have taken them. Poets want the reader to feel the words. Poets are freer than novelists because they can share the whole of their personality without breaking it down to suit individual characters. Personal style often comes much more easily to poets because they can say anything they want, any way they want, and get away with it. Personal style is seen through the way poets phrase things, which is a direct result of the way their thoughts flow. The only thing which binds poets is their own vocabulary.

No matter what your chosen form of writing might be, whether novels, essays, poetry, or something else, it is important that the writing itself contains enough of you that you are recognizable as the author. As always, I say you should play with words and ideas to expand your skills. The more you write, the more you refine and define your own style.

Sheri Whitlock is a published poet and essayist. She lives in Scotland, where she is doing historical research in preparation of her first novel.

The Fear of Writing by Laurel Fuller

We all know the feeling--you've set aside a good, hefty chunk of time during the day to sit with your computer, notebook or journal and you start scribbling. You sit in front of the blank screen/page, pen or keyboard, poised and ready, take a deep breath . . .and nothing happens. Nothing continues to happen for several minutes, so you get up, make a snack, check your email, play Solitaire for a few hours, and then – Oh! Look at the time. I guess you're done writing for the day.

Writer's block--it happens to the best of us, and it can strike at any moment, even when your head is full to bursting with ideas. Something happens between the vision you have in your head and the movement of your fingers to convert those ideas to words and sentences that keeps the creativity from flowing. Some people have trouble coming up with ideas in the first place. Others, like myself, have a different problem, we have tons of ideas going at a zillion miles an hour all the time, but have difficultly getting said ideas out of our heads.

So what's going on there? I can only speak for myself of course, but I can sum it up in one word: fear. Fear of failure, fear of being misunderstood, fear of something being lost in translation when I put my original vision in plain black and white–all those things and then some. As writers, our job is to communicate, to use words to express feelings, design characters, describe imagery or events, and just tell a story effectively. But how do you know that the ideas you're trying to get across are actually coming across the way you want them to?

And even if we manage to get past those things, one way or another, then there comes the problem of being stuck. Not "blocked" exactly, but "stuck". This is what happens when you have a good idea, you get most of it written down, but stop about halfway through. You've figured out how to begin, but don't know what to do next. You know where you want your characters to end up, but you don't know how to get them there. This problem leads to me having a couple dozen stories and novels in various states of completion, gathering dust on my harddrive.

But all those things are only part of the problem. A writer who can't write, or is afraid to write, or wants to write but has nothing to write about, is not a writer at all. I was reading an article in a magazine recently, talking about the tendency of some writers–like myself–who refrain from showing anyone their work out of fear. The truth is that the only thing holding you back is yourself. You won't ever get to see your name in print if you spend all your time trying to perfect your Great American Novel. This whole publishing business is all about trial and error, and then improvement, just like everything else.

The bottom line here is this: writers write, always. Even if you end up scrapping all of your work at the end of the day, even if putting the pen to the paper leaves you with something you can barely stand to look at, getting those words out in the open is the first step. It doesn't even have to be a substantial number of words – they just have to be there. And once you get some words down, even if you don't like them, you come to the startling realization that writing is the easy part. Writing is fun, writing is why we do this, to see our ideas come to life. It's editing that's the real work. Maybe it's the dread of the editing process that halts some of us from writing in the first place. But why spoil the fun?






Laurel Fuller is a struggling sci-fi/fantasy/horror writer living in Virginia Beach, dividing time between bakery-cafe customers and a motley crew of imaginary friends.

That Magic Moment

By Andrea Middendorf

What is it that makes a writer? Is it the words on the page, the story that pours from the writer’s pen that transforms a person into a writer? Or is it something more?

What do most people envision when they think of writers and their craft? One version, and certainly there is some truth to it, has the writer closed up in a garret, hunched over their work, laboriously creating characters and worlds, but is there more to it than that?

I could go into a long discussion regarding the story arc, character development, etc., etc., but that just deals with the mechanics of writing. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of how-to books out there telling people how to be a writer. But most of them deal with the mechanics, grammar, spelling, and what-have-you, but there are very few of them that can teach a person how to be a writer.

There is something visceral about being a writer. It’s about that desperate need to get the images out of the mind, the heart, and onto paper. It’s about sharing that vision with others and letting them experience it as well. Art can only be appreciated when others experience it, for that is exactly what a writer creates when he or she puts words to the page: art.

Writers and the written word carry a kind of power--a story captivates and enchants. They can make us laugh, cry, or both. It can cause us to leave the lights burning into the wee hours of the morning, or shove the book into a freezer like Joey Tribiani did on an episode of Friends. (Bonus points to those who can name the book he put in the freezer!)

Of course, not all books are works of art, and what one person claims is art, another is insistent that it is crap. I got into a debate with one of my co-workers about the merits, or lack thereof, of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. I personally cannot stand the book, but the discussion that Conrad’s book evoked was stimulating nonetheless. At the same time, I found Ishmael Reed’s Mumbo Jumbo to not only be a stimulating read, but a wonderful discovery of experimental and satirical writing. Reed uses different fonts and formats to tell his story, which only enriches the experience.

My point is, and I do have one, is that there is a connection between writer and reader when a book is read. It doesn’t happen all the time, not even when one reads a different book by the same author, but when it does, something magical happens. When it does happen, it is an experience to be savored.

Andrea Middendorf lives and works in Minnesota where she dreams of white sand beaches, crystal blue waters, and eighty degree weather.

On Poetry by Sheri Whitlock Hunter

Rhyming poetry isn’t as popular as it once was, which many may consider a good thing, but which I find unfortunate because those masters of rhyme provided a certain sense of awe to their readers. They provided cadence and kept a piece flowing in a way that unrhymed poetry often doesn’t.

There is no doubt that it is easier to pen unrhymed poetry, but with that ease comes larger responsibility. Poets are expected to share more of themselves because they aren’t bound by finding words which rhyme. They must strive for excellence by exposing their innermost selves, and must have a unique style in order to be noticed in a world where poetry is often treated as being of no importance.

The lack of desire for poetry is something which puzzles me because there are so many people writing poetry. Maybe that is the problem: with so much of it out there, could it be that the majority of people just can’t be bothered because they feel overwhelmed? Or is it, perhaps, the fact that poetry makes them experience emotion, and that is something so many try not to feel these days? Most people, at some point in their life, have picked up pen and paper and tried to write a poem. It’s an assignment which comes around several times in our school careers, and we draw on that later in life when we want to convey something in a particular way. What is it, then, that makes people not bother to read the efforts of others who have written poetry?

The most common answer given when someone is asked why they don’t read poetry is that it doesn’t make any sense to them. It may seem like a bunch of flowery words, but when you relax and let the words flow over and through you, it’s not hard to understand something of what the poet meant, at least in my experience.

Poetry has been given a bad name through the years. The word “poem” often brings to mind those overly sweet and romantic greeting cards we buy for Valentine’s Day or for anniversaries. How can serious poets compete with the stereotype these greeting cards have created? How can we get people interested enough to find out that poetry isn’t all about being cute and cuddly in front of a fire with that special someone?

Poetry is a song sung by the soul to paint a picture of emotion. Poetry is about feeling, even if it’s a poem about a cow pasture or a wrecked car. We feel so many more things than love and romance. We feel anger, resentment, disappointment, confusion, happiness, gladness, sadness and everything in between. Poets want to take the reader to the moment, to feel what they feel and see what they see, even if it isn’t pretty.

Even knowing that poetry is a tough way to get published and read doesn’t stop me from writing it. Some may say it’s easy to write a poem, but that isn’t really the case. Sure, a poet isn’t bound by the laws which govern other areas of literature, but it’s not easy. Poets lay bare a portion of their souls, which is sometimes like standing naked in front of 2,000 people who are laughing and pointing. Even though they don’t have to create characters and dialog, they do have to be sure their words properly paint the picture they want to convey and that the piece flows properly from one word to the next, as well as from one line to the next.

I’ve often found myself deleting whole sections of poetry because the flow is incorrect. Personal style comes into play when this happens. It’s very important to convey the idea, but also have it fit properly into the structure you’ve devised. It’s also possible that personal style might be developed by changing the flow of the piece at some point, whether by accident or by design. A break in the flow should be used to emphasise a certain change in emotion or a new idea.

Poets often find that the words which come to mind don’t fit the flow of the piece they have written or are writing. This is where the need to have a full vocabulary comes in. A poet, more than any other kind of writer, needs a thesaurus on hand. If it is essential that the flow of the poem not change at any particular point, it’s often down to a choice between which word with the same, or nearly the same meaning, will fit more appropriately into the poem. This often ends in bitten nails and pulled hair because of the frustration this situation can cause. Sometimes it’s almost better to choose an entirely different approach to reaching the line in question, rather than compromise your vision of what the piece is supposed to say or mean.

It isn’t unusual for poets to go back and completely rewrite a poem or add to it later, either to refine it or to expand on the idea. I think a good example of a poet not being satisfied with something he’s written is Walt Whitman. The first edition of Leaves of Grass was published in 1855 and he continued adding to it until 1891, for a total of seven editions before his death. For each edition, he revised some of the poems and also added new ones.

The poets who have made a mark on our history have had something important to say about the human condition, and their own way of saying it. Walt Whitman is one of my favourites. Anyone who has watched the movie Dead Poets Society has been lucky enough to hear his words. Movies like that often draw viewers because of the stars acting in them; in this instance, it was Robin Williams. That’s okay by me, because viewers who wouldn’t ordinarily be interested in poetry are given a bit of it, anyway! Even if they don’t want to be moved by the words, they often find that they are in spite of themselves. I hope it’s then that they realize what an intricate part of life poetry really is.

Everything I have said so far about poetry pales in comparison to the fact that it also teaches us about ourselves and the world around us. On your own, you can feel emotion so deep that you didn’t know it could be felt, but never stop to realize what it says about you as a person. It’s the poets who try to make you feel those profound emotions and at the same time think about why you’re feeling them. For this fact alone, poets deserve more credit than they receive these days.

For those of you who write poetry, I hope I’ve encouraged you to continue. There are those who do appreciate your words. As for those of you who don’t bother with poetry, I hope I’ve convinced you perhaps to make an exception once in awhile. You may find you like it. If not, perhaps you can appreciate the effort that went into those words and the fact that someone was brave enough to write them.

To A Certain Cantarice

Here, take this gift,
I was reserving it for some hero, speaker, or general,
One who should serve the good old cause, the great idea, the prog-
ress and freedom of the race,
Some brave confronter of despots, some daring rebel;
But I see that what I was reserving belongs to you just as much as
to any.

-Walt Whitman


Sheri Whitlock Hunter is a published poet and essayist. She lives in Scotland, where she is doing historical research in preparation of her first novel.

Writing: Common Usage Errors by Nannette Croce

We all have those song lyrics we get hysterically wrong. “There’s a bathroom on the right,” is noted by Songfacts as the “classically misheard lyrics” of Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Then there’s the fourth Wise Man mentioned in Silent Night, “Round John Virgin.” And my own from the soundtrack of Man of La Mancha when Dulcinea laments she was “born on a donkey to die on a donkey . . .” That was dung heap—hey, I was maybe 13 when my sister played it endlessly. What did I know from childbirth.

Similarly, there are those words and phrases people commonly get wrong in everyday speech. While the wrong song lyrics can be hilarious, for writers, using the wrong words in print can be can be disastrous.

Here are just a few examples:

“He honed in on the problem.” That should be “homed in on the problem.” Hone means “to sharpen,” which may sound vaguely apropos to the meaning but used as a verb in this phrase, the word home means “to be aimed toward” something. Think homing pigeon or homing device.

“I could care less.” That should be “I couldn’t care less.” If you could care less, you would feel at least somewhat ambivalent. If you couldn’t care less, you don’t care at all. I could care less if you use this phrase incorrectly in a submission. Think about it.

“He tried a different tact.” That should be, “he tried a different tack.” Here again, tact sounds correct because it means diplomacy, and we usually try a different tack when our first method of persuasion doesn’t work. However, tack is a sailing term to do with changing course, and that’s what it means in this phrase.

And here’s one we had a discussion about when I used it in my YOG post recently. “He got his just desserts.” If you look this one up (which I did because I wasn’t sure myself), you’ll see the word should be deserts. In this case, desert is not a “dry barren area of land” but a noun with the accent on the second syllable that means “worthiness or entitlement to reward or punishment.” I think most of us associate this phrase with “the sweet course eaten at the end of meal” given as a reward. (What is a just dessert for a bad person? Liver?) In fact, my fellow YOGer noted that she had never seen that phrase written as deserts instead of desserts. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I have either. So it may be one of those phrases/spellings that has changed over time.

Which brings me to my final phrase. “When in doubt, throw it out.” If you are not absolutely sure of the correct wording for a common phrase and can't find it in your dictionary, then don't use it. That is, unless you want people to think you were born on a donkey .


All definitions are based on the New Oxford American Dictionary, 2nd Edition


Click "Comments" to tell us what errors in word usage you see frequently or learned about the hard way. (Though not strictly writing related, we'll accept those hilariously misunderstood song lyrics as well.)

Nannette Croce is Co-Managing Editor at The Rose & Thorn and a regular YOGer . Her work has appeared in various online and print publications including The Rose & Thorn and The Philadelphia Inquirer. Visit her website.

Tips on Novel Writing, by Apryl Fox

If you’ve ever asked yourself if you could write a novel, the answer is "yes." All it takes is a simple idea, a lot of patience, and the ability to write well. My first attempts at novel writing were very crude and I had trouble coming up with something to write. Many professional writers have told me that they use novel outlines to help them stay on track.

A novel outline is simply an outline of events that take place in your novel. But how do you write one?

First thing first, you need an idea. Ideas can come from anywhere: from snatches of conversation, something you saw on the news, or from your own life. It is also a good idea to be consistent with your writing.

If you’re a busy person, all you need to do is take out an hour of your day to just sit down and work on your novel. Whenever I write, I try to use the scenario, "What if?" That helps get the creative wheels turning. If you’re anything like me, and you’re impatient, you must realize that writing a novel takes time, and you can’t rush through it like so many unfinished symphonies.


Apryl Fox is an Assistant Poetry Editor of The Rose and Thorn Ezine.

The Organized Writer by, Angie Ledbetter

It’s hard to keep writing projects organized when working on several things simultaneously, but without some sort of plan or system, productivity can come to a crashing halt.

Successful writers – freelancers, columnists, poets, novelists, essayists, or a combination of several of these types – have a way of keeping their work on track. Many tout the benefits of submissions tracking software, while others prefer working with a hard copy, such as a writer’s calendar book. Either way, busy writers benefit from having a reliable system in place instead of trying to remember where work was sent or when a first draft or article is due. Tickler files for keeping deadlines and ideas straight is one method of taming the chaos which regularly threatens to invade writers’ desks.

Maintaining a production file in the writer’s workspace encourages the productivity flow. When projects and their parameters are compiled in a neat and accessible fashion, writers spend less time searching for pertinent information or waiting for the inspiration muse to do her magic.

Whatever system is used, a handy reference, calendar, and idea pile will always be nearby. When writer’s block threatens, opening up a production file full of ideas, quotes, research notes, and/or project due date reminders jumpstarts the creativity motors.

Filing systems can be housed in word processing documents, in expandable folders, on spreadsheet programs, in a recipe file box, or in a good notebook set aside for just that purpose. For travelers, a zippered binder will fit inside a laptop case for carrying ease.

The type of production file a writer chooses is less important than being dedicating to using it. Organizing thoughts, ideas, data, and deadlines benefits writers of all genres, no matter how long they’ve been in the writing biz.

Typical categories for Work in Progress (WIP) entries might include: Title of Work; Themes & Settings, Plot (Opening, Middle, and End), Threads, Character Traits & Personality, Physical Descriptions, Education and Profession, Synopsis, Outline, and Miscellaneous.

Important data for each project should co