Einstein's Birthday Talk

As EVERYONE in the whole world knows. . . Monday, March 14 is Einstein’s birthday!

In honor of his 126th, I am giving a 20-minute talk and a book signing at Reiter’s Bookstore at 6:00. Since it’s right downtown, hopefully many of you can swing by after work – I mean there’s a whole, like, birthday party planned. Should be a rocking time – bring your friends. For those of you who came to the talk at Politics and Prose, I promise to talk about something different, and for those who didn’t make it, now’s your chance! But, most importantly, I’d just love to see some friendly faces in the audience. . . .

Reiter’s is at 2021 K Street NW, and I hope to see you there!

Rewrites

And another thing regarding the book . . . I have had this realization that I need to do some major changing with the point of view. "How to Write a Damn Good Novel" gave lengthy descriptions of different points of view -- stuff I learned in 8th grade, though it's always nice to hear it described again -- and then said "If you don't know what POV to use, try it from a few of them and see what works best."

I scoffed at this. I already knew what POV to use -- Shogun, the best historical fiction novel of ALL time -- laid the ground work. Third person objective -- but with different scenes from different characters' perspectives.

But see I've had this problem all along, where my voice isn't in there. I'm trying so hard to write this in a style that some of my favorite authors use and it's coming out stilted. I've been playing with this a lot, and have come up with a variety of decent solutions, but I think changing the point of view will make all the difference.

. . . which --and this is really the point -- is just damn scary. Not just that it involves major rewriting -- which it does, though no more than the major edits it needed anyway -- but it all becomes so much riskier. Taking a chance by doing it slightly differently, etc.

Writing Conflict

I've had a couple of fairly profound realizations re writing my novel recently. All of them writer's-book-driven. I swear, it's the one place where "self-help" books are really valuable. A good writing how-to can really galvanize me into action. The one I'm living by this week is "How to Write a Damn Good Novel" by James N. Frey. I bought it because the reviews on Amazon were so glowing, describing it as full of really concrete advice.

And I agree. . . the main epiphany I had last week from the book was regarding conflict. It described the problem of "static conflict," wherein a scene begins with two people who are frustrated and ends at the same level of frustration. The key point here being that conflict must evolve over the course of a novel, as well as in each individual scene. I new this was a problem in my own writing -- I kept saying that my characters were already "too cranky" going into certain scenes. I didn't realize that what this meant was that I had let them do all their getting annoyed with each other off-screen. Instead, the reader needs to witness them growing more frustrated in any given scenario -- start calm and reasonable, move towards conflict. Start placid, move towards joy. Start secure, move towards fear.

Like everything in writing, it's so obvious once you get it. But I totally needed someone to put it into words. . .

Einstein Promotion

On the other hand, it is distinctly satisfying to be at the tail end of my Einstein project -- for the simple reason that it doesn't suck. It's gratifying to be able to whip off a letter suggesting that Aries and I come read at your bookstore or speak at your conference, and know that we are experts on the subject. We are not remotely upselling ourselves; we're good.

Writing such letters becomes so easy when you know what you're talking about. There's nothing better than writing when you really know.

In that vein. . . just a note that Aries and I are looking to come to a bookstore, astronomy club, university, black tie reception near you! If you have suggestions of great places to speak, please let me know!

The Great Huge Sucking Sound

I've told it to others. I repeat it to myself all the time. I know it in my bones --

First drafts are supposed to suck. You have to get something on the page and then you can edit it.

But man, does my first draft of this book suck. I mean it's just so disheartening.

Editor Follow Ups

So, there's a reason that I haven't really filled anyone in on say, how my kid's book is going or how to handle the other book I was offered.

And that is because I just couldn't quite deal with any of it.

As far as the kid's book went, the rewrites they wanted were just so extensive, after we've been spinning our wheels and doing nothing for so long, that it was hard for me to want to keep working for them. I got a note from the editor this week, however, asking if I had any thoughts and did I want to go ahead, so I'm going to have to start dealing. I told her I'd write her my response next week. Ultimately, I think I'm going to tell them that I'm interested but it's time for me to get some money up front. (Lest you think I'm crazy for having written a book for them without money, just know that a) I do at least have a contract with them -- first payment is on acceptance -- and b) the kids book industry is totally different from adult books, and since everyone wants to write kids books, the publishers often get to just do whatever they want to.)

As for the second book. . . well, it was left with the editor that I'd more than likely do it, but I'd start after the new year. She made it sound like a project that at 25,000 words could be turned around fairly quickly. Maybe in two months or so, and the project WAS interesting. We'd left it at that -- no contract signed or anything, but they'd made me a money offer and basically it was left that we'd be back in touch with each other in the fall. I e-mailed her yesterday, and the e-mail bounced. It bounced again today. Serious searching for her name on the publisher's website has had no success. She has clearly dropped off the face of the earth. Well, I guess that helps me make THAT decision!

Orson Scott Card . . .

. . . is brilliant. He is a fantastically compelling writer, who has the amazing knack for churning out novels that have -- get this -- different plots and characters in them. He even writes novels that are vastly different in tone when they have the same characters in them. He is the only writer who has two whole books on my favorite books of all time list.

This is why I am thankful for him today. Having read pretty much all of his books (I'm not that excited about his Alvin the Maker series, simply because I don't love fantasy -- which for those of you who are not up on the genre, is way different than science fiction.) I just discovered he has a non-fiction book out there -- Characters and Viewpoint. It's a book on how to write interesting characters, and so in my current Definitely Need Others To Jumpstart Me phase (which is still going well, by the way), I bought it.

Card pointed out that while the temptation is there to write about characters based on people you know (and one should of course draw on what one knows) this doesn't actually work in practice. For the simple reason that you don't know the people around you as well as you need to know your characters. If you draw from real life you might tell a story and justify it by saying: "Well, that's what happened." But the reader is left bewildered as to why the character might have done that. If you don't delve into your character more deeply and let the reader know the character's motivation -- something you truly don't know at a fundamental level about the person who did it in reality -- then your prose will fall flat.

And wow did I need someone to tell me that. I'm not, obviously, writing about people I know. I am writing about something even harder. Real people whom I've only read about. Or read their writing. And I have been trying to stick to that -- I use dialogue culled from words they actually wrote, I rely on versions of their personalities that others have described. I mean, no wonder I have gotten bored when writing about Tycho. He's as one-dimensional as I could possibly make him. He's totally the character I got stuck on; writing from his perspective was what jammed me up two months ago. I have to let my creativity really fly free and turn him into a much rounder person.

I am realizing that I have to take this attitude when working with the plot too -- just because that's what really happened doesn't make it interesting. I am smart enough to know this to a certain degree. I have definitely embellished, or at least tried to come up with explanations for why things happened the way they did. In addition, I am lucky because most of the stuff that these guys did really is fantastic and enthralling. But I am understanding in a way that I didn't before how much I need to make sure that the whole book reads with that level of excitement -- and I am finally freed to really make the story interesting.

Card is brilliant I tell you.

Jump starting

One of the things everyone says you're supposed to do, especially if you're having a tough time writing is make sure that you're leaving lots of time for all your bad writing. Write in a diary every morning, do writing exercises, spend time getting to know your characters and writing stuff about them that you never anticipate putting in the book.

I KNOW this and yet, when confronted with a blank screen and a blank mind the only thing I can think to myself is "if I'm not getting enough writing done lately, then I do not, do not, do not have enough time to waste on exercises, for goodness sakes." And so despite the fact that I know this is not a logical process and getting a wee bit of creativity flowing will unlock the whole jam, I sit there and keep staring at the screen and nothing happens.

And then, finally, something comes that kicks you awake and makes it all work again. In this case, I just signed up for an online novel writing course -- something one does because in amongst all the stuff you already know, there is hopefully one sentence, or two, phrased in just the right way that it resonates in your brain and it makes you work again.

This time around it was so very simple -- but instead of suggesting basic exercises (pair these nouns with these verbs and see what fun sentences you get!!) the first writing exercise was to write down some of the scenes you have already imagined about the book. They didn't have to be good (they never do, we all know that about first drafts. . . ) but just write some. Pick the ones that have been marinating in your brain, no matter how out of order, no matter if you don't know where they fit in (oh, but of course, I know where they fit in, have I mentioned my 30 page outline recently??) but do it.

Suddenly I had an exercise that also was part of my first draft. A silly crutch to require, but damn if it wasn't exactly what I needed. I realized that there are 5 or 6 scenes floating around my head, and it was time to jump from that point one-third the way into the book where I had stopped and go for some of the good stuff. (Sex scenes, anyone?)

Anyway, this is just to say that the writing has been flowing the last week. . .

Marketing

So last night I spoke at a Meet the Author's event at the University Club. It was a really fun time -- set up so that each of three authors sat at three tables and answered questions for 15 minutes, before a bell rang and everyone moved around. Not unlike the way I imagine sorority interviews to work, but frankly a great way to talk to lots of people. The people were interesting and enjoyable, and I really liked the other two authors -- but here's the thing. One of the other authors had. . . props. Not only did she bring her Emmy Award and sit it on the table, but she had book marks with tips from her book printed on them. And she had a quiz! She had a quiz that she handed out.

I clearly don't know anything about marketing. I need to get on it. . .

Home Again

I am back home, sitting at Tryst, with all the motivation and excitement that the fall brings. I swear the ingrained patterns of starting school every September still leave me in such a state of organization and determination.

Of course, I have been home exactly two days, am coming home to a novel that was totally stalled when I left, an article for Ride to edit asap, two technological writing pieces to do for Argonne National Labs, an overflowing e-mail inbox, and a whole host of other things to follow up on. We'll see how long this so-called organization lasts.

That having been said, it's the novel that's hanging over my head the most. Having taken a six-week break, it's time to get a move-on. Especially when I was feeling fairly blocked six weeks ago. I need all the cliched writing tricks to get me going. Do some exercises. Force myself just to sit down at the computer. Set a timer and promise myself I'll work for a solid hour before turning on my e-mail. I have pulled out my copy of Writing Down the Bones, and am looking at some exercises to get my juices flowing. Am being reminded about powerful verbs, bad first drafts, scrawling across a large notebook without lifting your pen. . . but most of all I am thankful for a sentence she has in her introduction: "Every time we begin, we wonder how we ever did it before."

How have I managed to do it before??

Blocked

I am sitting in a coffee shop in Woods Hole, STARING at the screen, trying to throw myself back into Kepler and Brahe with a vengeance, and mostly I am . . . staring at my computer screen. It doesn't help that my favorite coffee shop in Woods Hole got wireless access and so e-mailing becomes a far too accessible procrastination tool. But really. This shouldn't be so hard.

I've been stumped on this book for a solid month now I think -- partly 'cause I've focused elsewhere, getting ready for my trip. But also because I am finding myself having to write about characters I just don't know as well. And so I stare at the keyboard, take a sip of coffee, stare some more, turn on my e-mail -- hit send/receive a few times, turn off my e-mail, sip some coffee, write a sentence, turn back on my e-mail, realize no one has written me in the last two minutes, turn it off, stare at the screen, watch the people go by, wish I had a copy of Writing Down the Bones to help me out with some fun writing exercise to get me started, finally say Screw it! and just write something here instead.

Why doesn't this ever get easier?

People's Interpretations

One of the most interesting things about putting a book out there is the ways in which people react from their own biases. I have a lot to say about different audiences for anything one writes that I won't go into a lot of detail here. Suffice it to say there is always a group of people who know far more about the subject than the rest of the populus and unless you say exactly the same thing as what they believe they know, then they will raise a hue and a cry about how you are incorrect.

It's important to realize both as a writer -- and if you're a huer and a crier -- that the experts are not your audience. The experts have a knowledge base, and they are often frustrated by things that are factually correct, but just rub them the wrong way. Or alternatively, they are committed to a certain theory when you propound another one. This kind of bias is not easy to spot and can be disconcerting when you encounter it.

I'm here today to discuss a whole different kind of "the wrong" audience. By "wrong" I simply mean people who are not going to get out of a book what you were aiming to give them. One of my favorite cases is from The Big Bang Theory.

It is an interesting device of those who are anti-science to point fingers at a theory's weaknesses and then say "See! It's clearly wrong, even scientists have to agree there are problems, and so the entire scientific approach is wrong and we should return to a simpler life/believe the bible literally/jettison technology that is destroying the world."

As it happens, the whole point of my Big Bang book was to analyze how robust a theory it is, where there are holes that still need to be patched up, what seems proven completely, what isn't, etc. Therefore, I naturally went into detailed discussions about the weaknesses (weaknesses that, mind you, have already changed in the two years since the book was published -- cosmology is a fast-moving field. . . ) I wrote in the introduction that it would be foolish to think that because there was room for discussion about the theory, one should embrace, say, Creationism instead. One can, and should, accept change in science, without feeling that science as a way to analyze the world is fundamentally untenable.

Ok, that was the background to the fact that in the article THE BIG BANG THEORY—A SCIENTIFIC CRITIQUE [PART II] by Bert Thompson, Ph.D., Brad Harrub, Ph.D., and Branyon May on a website dedicated to defending fundamentalist Christian beliefs in the face of scientific data, I am described as "admitting" the problems with the Big Bang Theory.

Karen Fox admitted:

The fact is that the dark matter problem is reaching something of a crisis, although few astronomers have been willing to admit this yet. Forget not finding any ideal dark matter candidates. The problem isn’t that no one can find the missing matter (although they can’t) but that even if theorists stomp their feet and shake their heads, observations haven’t even shown that the universe is at the critical density (2002, pp. 122-123, parenthetical item in orig.).
But if “observations haven’t even shown that the universe is at the critical density,” then that plays havoc with the idea of inflation producing a Big-Bang-type of Universe that is flat, and that will expand indefinitely.

As Fox casually remarked: “The dark matter problem affects the basics of the big bang model” (p. 124). It certainly does!)

It also describes me as "confessing":

Evolutionist Karen Fox confessed: “This radiation in and of itself doesn’t require the big bang theory per se be correct” (2002, p. 134).

Never mind the fact that they call me an "evolutionist" -- which, yeah, I am, but which has nothing to do with the big bang -- I just love this. I love the fact that I write a section entitled "How Good a Theory Is It?" with a chapter called "Glitches", in which the whole point is to describe what the problems about the theory are . . . and it's interpreted as this dirty secret, where I have to "admit" that everything is not smack-dab perfect within the world of cosmology. The words echoed throughout the web. . . On a Christian Message board arguing the Big Bang theory versus a 6-day creation describes says my "admission speaks volumes."

I have not, of course, attempted any discourse with the authors in question -- it wouldn't get any of us anywhere. But as I gear up for the next round of reactions on this current book, some of which I'm sure WILL be negative and WILL affect me more deeply than the above examples, it's great to be reminded how often feedback is rooted in biases I can never hope to affect.

Feedback

Thanks to all of you who dropped me notes after the Politics and Prose reading aired on BookTV this morning. It's great to know that there were actual people awake at that hour, who enjoyed, agreed with, disagreed with, wanted to comment on, or simply watched, the show!

(And thanks also to those of you who bought the book due to the show -- our Amazon ranking went from 50,000 yesterday to 9,000 today.)

More Media

Is it thoroughly jejeune of me to be excited any and every time the slightest thing gets put in print about Einstein A to Z? Probably. . . but hey it's still fun!

My friend Hilary Liftin, who is not only a fantastic writer, but who shares the wealth, sent my Shameless Boasting e-mail to a colleague at the NYC edition of Metro -- a free newspaper distributed globally. And so we're in there today! Aries and I are their book pic of the day. (Hit the link and scroll down to page 12 to read it in print. . . But here's what it said, next to a picture of the book: "Sure Einstein was brilliant, smart, witty , adn the greatest mind of our time. But, man, do you reall GET him? It's just too much information for us to handle Thankfully, science writers Karen Fox and Aries Keck have written a handy entertaining breakdown of the great thinker: from A to Z -- with a little E=MC2 thrown in.")

ALSO! If you'd like to see how Aries and I did at our Politics and Prose gig two weeks ago -- or alternatively if you're an insomniac and will be awake at 6:15 AM this Sunday, you can see us on Book TV on C-Span2.

'Nother Review

I think Publisher's Weekly is pretty much REQUIRED to write a review on every book that is ever published, but I am still pleased they take the time to write about my books. Their reviews are always really nicely written as well (Hey, this one had Latin in it!) and I kinda like that too. . .

From Publisher's Weekly: A is for absentmindedness, and yes, the greatest scientist of the 20th century was a stereotypically absentminded professor. E is for his famous equation on the relation between energy and mass, which is nicely explained here in a clear, comprehensible way. M is for McCarthyism, which Einstein openly decried, and also for Marilyn Monroe, whose link to Einstein is wholly fictional. Fox (The Big Bang Theory) and Keck, a science reporter for public radio station WHYY-FM in Philadelphia, say their alphabetic omnium gatherum "is designed to be as casual or as specific as the reader wishes," and that's a fair description. Details about Einstein's life, not just his science, are found in these alphabetical fragments, which cover the physicist's feelings on Israel and Judaism, on pacifism (which he espoused) and on quantum mechanics (which he famously rejected), as well as his relations with other scientists and with his own family. Novice students of physics and casual browsers can learn a fair amount from these entries, though, of course, it's no substitute for reading one of the many comprehensive books on Einstein's life and work. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Reviews

So now that Einstein A to Z is available online, readers may leave their personal reviews up for others to read. Authors often stack such things, trying to encourage as many people as they know to put up something interesting. . . and so I am used to getting all sorts of 5-star reviews from people on the Amazon web page.

In this case, one of my first reviews was a 3-star review. (His comment was that, while well-written, the book didn't break out any new information on Einstein -- which is a fair comment. We really weren't looking to put out all new information, just trying to put it together in an interesting way. I would argue that the format is quite new, and a particularly good way to be introduced to Einstein for people who aren't well-versed in his science and life -- which is actually the bulk of readers, not just students, but nonetheless the reviewer's comment is fair.)

Here's the point: while it would have been great if it wasn't a 3-star review, I am so incredibly thrilled that someone random wrote a review for me, that it entirely makes up for it. It's just SO exciting.

Searching Through Trash

So, it's 10:30 on a Thursday, and my book club just left my home after dinner (we read Santa Evita -- go read it -- it's awesome) and I quickly logged on to my e-mail to find a note that someone had seen a "blurb" about me in today's Washington Post Express -- the free paper the Post hands out to metro riders.

I don't know what "blurb" this could be -- whether it's a review of Einstein A to Z specifically, or a mention of our reading at Politics and Prose this weekend or what -- but I figured what the hell, the Woodley Park metro is only a block away, why don't I walk down and see if there are any papers left.

There are no papers left.

So I decide, well, it can't hurt to just maybe take a glance in the trash cans to see if someone tossed one aside. As it happens the trash cans have been fairly recently replaced with new garbage bags which is good news in that the cans are reasonably clean and I am not so grossed out by this "vague glancing" I'm doing, but bad news in that there's not much in them.

Since I'm having no luck outside the station, I decide to take the 5-minute escalator down into the station to see if there are any tossed newspapers there. Once down-- hallelujah! -- I see the paper I'm looking for sandwiched underneath the clear plastic garbage bag and the can itself. I glance around, make sure no one is looking, rip a hole in the garbage bag, hold my breath while reaching in, and snag a perfectly clean lovely copy of the paper.

I couldn't believe that I had just a) gone searching through trash bins or b) actually found a clean version of what I was looking for.

I was half way up the escalator before I realized I had snagged last thursday's paper.

(Conveniently -- they listed their website, and I found the mention. . . Scroll down to page 18!)

Einstein A to Z is Out!

The e-mail I just sent out to my 600 closest friends:

Einstein: A to Z -- the book I've been working on for much of the last two years with my friend and co-author Aries Keck -- was just released today. It's made of (fun, enjoyable, eloquent) encyclopedia entries from "absentmindedness" to "Zionism," with stops at such things as cosmology, God, relativity, women, and wormholes in between. You should, of course, buy it. . . or, well, do anything you can to promote it.

And not just because I say so! Previous reviews of my writing have said things like:

--"[The Big Bang Theory is] a first rate book , having a permanent place in my library and I look forward to reading future work by the author."

and

--"Karen Fox has the freshest of writing styles and a complete grasp of her subject. Her voice is, at once, playful and intimate."

Ok, the second one was written by a friend of mine on Amazon, but the first was said OUT LOUD on BBC radio in May of 2002 by someone I have never ever met.

So, for those of you who would like to do what they can to help this budding writer along in her career, here are a handful of ideas.

1) Buying the book never hurt.

2) Telling your friends to buy the book and forwarding this message to anyone you know -- also good.

3) Write a glowing review of the book on Amazon or Barnes and Noble, dealer's choice.

4) Make one of those lists on Amazon that says things like "the only way to be erudite in the modern world is to have read these 5 books" and then list this book as your first one.

5) Go to your local book store and
--ask them to order three copies of the book if they do not have it in stock. You may then buy any of them or not. (You can do this in other cities too -- a friend of mine does this when he's on vacation. He never goes back for the books he's ordered, but they will be put on the shelf if you don't return and that's a win-win situation.)
--take a page from my friend Catherine Cooke's mom who always puts my books out front of other books whenever she goes to a book store.
--tell them you know the author and ask them if they'd like me to come read. Since I'll be driving myself there, and then staying at your house, because this is a strictly self-funded book tour, it's an extra bonus since I'll get to see you!

6) Let me know if you are in a position to review the book in any way in print or online (blog? do you have a blog??) and I will make sure you get a FREE copy. (Many of you probably have copies on your desk already. . . )

7) Get your university library to order a copy for their general library and for their science library.

8) Come to Politics and Prose (5015 Connecticut Avenue, N.W. WDC) at 5 PM, Sunday July 25 to listen to Aries and me speak.

Aries and I had a lot of fun writing this, and I really think it came out well -- I hope you enjoy it too!

-- Karen

Drinks

So I'm sitting at my favorite coffee bar -- which, OK, is also a BAR bar -- and the guy sitting next to me brazenly ordered at 1 o'clock a Maker's Mark. A Maker's Mark!

It was like a challenge I couldn't turn down. I couldn't stop staring at his drink, I was so tempted. I mean aren't fiction writers supposed to drink? I'm a fiction writer, right? Didn't Hemingway do this all the time? There was no reason for me not to order a drink.

So I did.

The bad news is that it didn't help my writing. The good news is that it didn't hurt it either. Hmmm. . . this may lead to far more interesting afternoons. . .

The Maker's Mark guy on the other hand is curled up on the couch almost asleep, barely able to work. Amateur!

Reading in Public

And the last big thing I did at this workshop was. . . read a chapter from my Kepler/Brahe book out loud.

WOW. It was one of the scariest things I've ever done. Three of the other teachers were reading from books in progress, and as they knew I had written books, I was asked to read from something too. I considered reading from the Einstein book -- it would have been a safe choice, as it is well-edited, and non-fiction which doesn't feel quite as much like you're putting yourself out on the line.

But it just would have been kind of boring, I think, to read what are really encyclopedia essays -- no matter how lively -- to the group. In addition, they really wanted something in progress . . . and so I did it.

There is one chapter that the readers in my writing group said currently reads the best, and it also had a fair amount of science in it, so it seemed the best choice. I was stammeringly nervous, and never looked up while reading to see if people were actually paying attention, but the response seems to have been really positive.

I am sure there were those who had a response not unlike the one I would have had a few years ago (i.e. who is so presumptuous to force other people to listen to their fiction?!?) but lots of people said they really enjoyed it and that they looked forward to reading the final product.

All of which has given me a major boost of energy, after about two weeks when I haven't written anything new on it. Whoo hoo! As I said to everyone who gave me a compliment: the reason it's so hard to do, is that the book is SO good in my head. I hope hope I can make it as good as it should be. . .

Kid's Book Update

So, I finally got a note back from my editor on the kid's book project. Sigh. I am left feeling about these publishers pretty much the way I did before -- good editing advice, coupled with slightly weird people/organization skills. She would like to continue working with me, but has suggested a fairly major rewrite. In addition she made no mention of the "competitive" book she talked about previously and sort of threw the ball into my court to ask if I would like to continue the project, as if I had been the one balking previously. (Which I suppose I was, but only 'cause they started it. Nyeanh nyeanh nyeanh.)

Anyway, I am left with the following array of thoughts:

● Wow, the edits are really great suggestions -- and I crave good editing, since I think so many people just read and go "hmm, no spelling mistakes, it must be ok!"
● Except they kind of go in the opposite direction of the last set of edits, so that's frustrating to have to redo this in a completely different way when I already did a major rewrite based on her suggestions. I realize that sometimes a major rewrite doesn't get you to a finished product, or even to "just a few refinements" stage . . . but it's still tough to have done what she said the first time, and now have to go undo it.
● If I put in the work for a major rewrite (still not having seen a dime, mind you) will I be waiting ANOTHER year before I hear back from them?
● Why no mention of the other competitive project? It makes me feel like that was just a quick excuse offered me and not the real issue.

I have not yet written her back, since I always like to take a few days to let the conflicting thoughts (which in this case do have a bit of crankiness to them, of course) settle. But I'm not quite sure what to say. I think I would like to continue, but I want to write a "but are you realio-trulio going to make me a priority here?" kind of note. I have also received a suggestion that I tell them I'll go forward if they give me a quarter of the money before I do so -- sort of a good faith check. I haven't discussed any of it with my agent yet, which I should probably do. . .

First Drafts

So . . had writing group meeting this morning, and got feedback on my (very very rough) draft of the first twenty pages of the book. And, of course, I have been snapped right back into OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO DO stage. Suddenly I am torn between wanting to edit -- since there were all these great ideas given to me -- and wanting to keep writing writing writing, and get more of the first draft done (I'd say I've written a quarter total). And I can't decide which to do, and of course feel vaguely stymied.

I was, however, reminded again that first drafts are OKAY. I don't know why we need to constantly be reminded of this. But KZ offered a great metaphor for writing -- the first draft is just about nailing in the posts. Like telephone poles. They point the way, they set up the framework, you've got a skeleton. Then, with suggestions from your readers, with your own editing, the second draft is about putting in all the stuff in between. Laying the wires, filling in the details, smoothing the edges, refining the product. I love this metaphor. It's not saying anything I didn't know -- or don't keep reciting in my head "It's ok Karen, this is just your first draft, you'll make it perfect later" -- but it somehow says the same thing in a different way, and I think one constantly needs to be reminded that you HAVE to go through the first draft stage before getting to the final stage. We keep hoping that as we get better we can skip some of this initial b.s. But truly I think the mark of a great writer is simply that they are good editors, and they can take that first draft and polish it up to brilliant beauty.

I just have to be told over and over again, in different ways, that it's ok to write a first draft -- and just because it's not perfect yet is no reason to give up. But it's hard to remember that I tell you. It's hard.

. . . and one other accomplishment

The other big thing I did today was write an e-mail to a publisher for a kids' book I wrote, wow, two-and-a-half years ago now. It was never meant to be a big deal -- just a quick thing I wrote after I put out The Big Bang Theory book, since I already knew the subject matter so well.

And my editor at this publisher is GOOD. She really made the kids book lots better.

But she -- or perhaps the publishers as a whole -- are not apparently the most organized, since I haven't heard from anyone in three months, and haven't gotten the final edits of the draft I sent in a year ago, despite being promised them pretty much every other month.

The whole point of this was NOT to make it a big deal, just to publish a kids book if it worked out. But this lack of momentum is getting a bit ridiculous. Normally this is the kind of thing I ask my agent to deal with -- but she's not a children's book agent, and so she doesn't really have a lot of pull here, as well as she's not going to be a lot of help if we decide to shop it elsewhere. So I don't have a lot of options and have mostly been just sitting around, waiting to see what happens and trying not to worry about it too much. . .

BUT, I really LIKE the book. And I want to see it published. So today I sort of reached my limit and sent the following:

As it is coming up on a year since I sent you my last version of The Universe's Birthday, I have the feeling this project is stalled in the water. Since our contract and commitment to each other has always been a loose one, I am not chafing under this -- but I do like the book very much and would begin shopping it elsewhere if Charlesbridge no longer planned to go forward.

I know you have many other things on your desk, but please let me know where things stand.

I am torn between thinking I was too nice and that I was too abrupt. I mean hey, I get pretty disorganized too sometimes, right?

The Subtext

I just got SO side-tracked in the last entry -- 'cause what I really meant to talk about was the panic in my stomach that I have just let people read the first 20 pages. I mean that stuff is virgin territory. No one has read it except for me. And while I have done a wee bit of that "first chapter" honing I talked about -- mostly it's a realio-trulio, first, un-edited, Please-Don't-Judge-Me-On-This draft.

Total panic time.

Meeting #2

Met with the new writing group again this morning. . . and I actually, gasp, handed out the first 20 pages of the book I've been working on. It represents about 1/5 of what I've written so far, but the first part is always the most important thing to get right. It is, perhaps, the ONLY thing.

My good friend Misha Strauss was the first person to get this through my skull, though many writing teachers tried. The first 'graf is ALL. The way she, a philosophy grad student, put it was: A professor has decided by the end of the first page of an essay what grade they're going to give you. There is something a wee bit scary about the fact that the "grade" metaphor delved into my cortex more firmly than any other attempt to explain this concept to me. Decades of being a goody-goody and grade-grubber apparently . . .

BUT, the point is that after Misha told me that, I finally got it. I could, in fact, look at papers I wrote (I was taking courses in Philosophy of Science at UMD at the time) and point at the exact sentence on the first page that turned my A into a B+. And I pretty much never had the problem again.

Whether it's a book proposal or an article or a novel or a query or, hell, a letter trying to get out of paying for a parking ticket, you've pretty much got the first paragraph to convince the reader of your worth.

In the case of this book, I've got the first bit to convince

--a publisher to publish it
--a publisher to give me LOTS of money for it
--a reader to buy it
--a reader to read it
--a reviewer to like it

Now it is, of course, entirely possible that I could write a glowing first chapter and then a horrible book and lose any chance at the above . . . but the opposite isn't true. No matter how good the book becomes, it's entirely impossible to get a decent grade without that glowing first chapter.

So, I handed out the first 20 pages, and hopefully we can hone that baby over and over until it's perfect.

Doing the Math

My favorite English teacher in high school, Mrs. Buchanan, quickly got used to the idea that I could never plan ahead when I wrote a paper. I took a lot of classes from her throughout my four years at National Cathedral School but it is the two writing classes that I remember the most. I took a class called "Critical and Creative Writing" in which we took a week to write any particular assignment, handing in early scratchings mid-week before the entire piece on Friday. Somehow she was surprised every time when my first paragraphs were smack out of the middle of the essay -- I would add the introduction and conclusion later.

She was better about accepting my complete and total inability to write an outline. For a class on how to write a term paper -- I wrote mine on George Bernard Shaw's play Heartbreak House -- we had to hand in a detailed outline before we were allowed to begin writing. My outline looked like this:

I. Introduction
II. First Argument
A. Supporting Statements
III. Second Argument
A. Supporting Statements
IV. Third Argument
A. Supporting Statements
V. Conclusion

I swear. That's what I handed in. Mrs. Buchanan said that "for me" it was pretty good.

The point of all of this is that somewhere along the way I made a U-turn. I am now outline-obsessed. I have discovered that if I know ahead of time what I am going to write about everything flows. Writing -- in of itself -- is a piece of cake. Imagine writing a letter detailing your day, or telling a memory from your childhood. You are fully conversant with the story, so pulling together the words to tell it, and then typing the words into the keyboard is simple stuff. And so it goes with me and articles and books. If I know what I'm talking about, if I've done enough research, if I have written down an outline, even some simply bulleted list, the actual transfer of information into sentences is no work at all.

All of which translates to my currently having a 30-page outline for the book I'm writing. Three-Oh. Plots and conversation ideas and settings and ironic twists all mapped out. Eat your heart out, Mrs. Buchanan.

And it helps, it really does. I only stare at the computer screen for like 30 minutes before starting to write a chapter, instead of say an hour and a half. Because, I mean, what's supposed to happen is right there in black and white, right? It helps.

But here's the part where it doesn't. I know that my current outline calls for 96 sections (each section can be anywhere from a few paragraphs to a ten pages). I have a first draft written for about 20 already. I had this dream I was going to finish a full first draft by June 19, before going away to a science writing workshop in Santa Fe. So I did the math. I have 76 sections left to write.

And 64 days left in which to write them.

That's more than a section a day, including weekends. And, to be honest, it's been taking me about three days to do each section. (Though I had a banner day on Wednesday in which I pounded out a whole section in one morning -- it was a beautiful angry scene, and so much fun to channel the character while writing.)

Someone once explained to me about how runners feel somewhere about half way through a race. (An experience I will never in my entire life ever have, I assure you.) The feeling of disquiet, knowing you've already put in so much work, and yet there's so much more to go. To be fair, the years of research I've put into this book means I'm well over half way finished, even if it does take me longer than I'd hoped to write it.

But, my goodness. There's no way I'm going to get this finished by June. And I DO know the story already, so the writing isn't awful, and I have my pretty outline, and it's doable. One step at a time and all that. It's just. . . there's so much more to go.

Pilates

As you may have noticed, there's been somewhat of a lapse in my keeping this journal. . . It has something to do with the fact that I, um, got myself an additional part-time job. I have been addicted for the last few years to pilates -- a form of exercise that if you're not careful can bleed your bank account dry faster than you can say "six-pack abs," since it requires having a personal trainer. I decided the only way I could afford to keep doing it was if I became a trainer myself. I would be able to use the equipment for free and suddenly even the clothes I bought to do it were legitimately tax-deductible. Tax-deductible clothes are a very good thing.

So, beginning in October, I took a three-month course -- for which they wanted me to be in the studio, like, 23 whole hours a week. A commitment of that kind from a woman who's had nothing but a perfectly flexible schedule for five years, is a bit dramatic. It took me a few weeks to not feel like my life was completely running away from me, another few weeks to snare myself some free time to maintain my sanity and a few more after that to actually get back to writing again.

I began to think that having a part-time job really sucked.

On the other hand, I was earning money teaching pilates during all of this, so the fact that I wasn't writing wasn't the end of the world financially. Nevertheless, it certainly side-tracked any idea I had of getting that book proposal done tout suite.

Which is ok, actually. I think I'll get to it at some point -- it's a good book idea. But I have another book that I've been talking about writing for about three years now. I've researched it extensively, written an ever-lengthening outline that is now some 30 pages long, and generally lived with it in my head for quite some time.

The problem is . . . it's fiction. It's still based in the history of astronomy, but it's most definitely fiction. There are two problems with fiction. First, it's HARD. Really hard. And really different from writing non-fiction. That's what this online-journal will be about, so you'll hear more on that. Second, unlike non-fiction, you can't sell the book ahead of time. A publisher wants the whole finished thing before deciding to buy it.

And that's where the pilates comes in. I have finally worked it successfully into my schedule so that I am not overwhelmed that I'm spending --ok, only ten -- hours a week working outside the house. It's also a nice extra source of income. All of which means I can afford the time and money right now to focus on this book. After three years of talking about writing this book, I can finally let everything else go, and pay attention solely to it.

Part-time jobs rule.

Book Proposal

Last December I met with an editor at a New York publishing house. We had a great lunch, enjoyed each other's company, and spent the hour brainstorming on book ideas for my next book. (This stemmed from the fact that I had written a book proposal that she liked, but couldn't publish due to the fact that some other (horrible, mean, awful) person had decided to write a similar book just a few months before I did.) I went home, promising her a new book proposal within a few months.

Much to my mortification, it is now ten months later, and still she has nothing on her desk from me. I haven't been incommunicado -- we continued to be in touch, we narrowed down our focus, I gave her some initial paragraphs on the subject, and she knows that I have been side-tracked due to finishing up another book on Einstein.

But really, this is absurd. I handed in the Einstein manuscript exactly a week ago, (only, mind you, three weeks later than the contract asked for it, which in publishing terms is basically On Time, and so I feel very proud of myself) and it is time to get this new proposal knocked out, dammit. In addition to the fact that I promised it to the editor ages ago, finishing the proposal will also help with the twin issues of freeing me from having to cringe and/or panic any time my father asks me "what's happening with that book proposal?" and of getting an advance to help me with, you know, buying food.

So, this is my task for the next week. I am setting myself a deadline of October 3, and writing it down here for the world to see. This would be ambitious if I were starting from scratch, but I am not. I have written a solid half of the proposal already, in fits and starts over the last year, and have done most of the research. All that's needed at this point is the ability, as Letitia Baldridge said in a talk I heard her give yesterday, to apply the seat of my pants to the seat of the chair.

Indeed, I have spent two hours this morning editing what I already had and writing an additional 500 words or so. That sounds embarrassingly paltry when put down like that, but I was proud of it a few moments ago -- I guess just because I have been reminded again of what happens every single time, and yet doesn't sink into my consciousness. Sit down, turn on the computer, force yourself not to leave (helped in the current case by the fact that I'm at my favorite coffee shop, Tryst, and cannot be distracted by the overwhelming urge to go clean my closets) and lo! the writing actually starts to flow. For goodness sake, I've been researching this topic for almost a year, I have the information in my head, it's time to get it all on paper.

A week. I have given myself a week.