Sagging Middle Syndrome

I have been tromping through this draft with all the grace and delicacy of a grasshopper stuck in tar this week month. It finally occurred to me that what I'm dealing with is Sagging Middle Syndrome.

All writers face this, I know. I don't need to preach to the choir.

I decided to read up on some tips for fixing a sad, saggy middle, and in an effort to internalize the pointers (and avoid my story for *that much* longer), I'm going to share them with you.

Tip #1: When blogging about Sagging Middle Syndrome, don't make jokes about your own saggy stomach. Because everyone else who is blogging about SMS has already made that joke.

Tip #2: Tension. Build it. It's like blowing up a balloon: don't let it go too soon or it will skitter across the room making fart noises and land in a rumpled heap. Or something. Someone make that work. *delegates someone*

Tip #3: This is where your subplots get to take center stage. For just a little while, at least. This is where you change gears and let other bits of the story, besides the main conflict, come out to play.

Tip #4: Raise the stakes. This is kind of like building tension. And kind of not. Make your protag fail. Rain consequences down upon their head! Let relationships form and strengthen, and then make trouble for them.

So now, I beg. Someone who has seen the other side of SMS: what advice can you give us floundering grasshoppers?

What's Really Important

I recently came across an old notebook, the one I was using when I wrote the first draft of my current WIP (the WIP fondly known as "The Story That's Trying to Kill Me") (more on that another day). Along with some utterly embarrassing story snippets that I thought back then were pure gold, I found a list I wrote called "The Important Points of the First Ten Chapters."

The reason I made this list was because I had just realized my story started at the wrong place. I'd read a blog post that suggested making a list to see what really needed to be included and going from there. So, with that brilliant idea, and my equally brilliant and creative list title, I did that.

Guys.

It's been over a year since I made that list, and my beginning is finally (hopefully) where it should be, but on a list of over twenty important points, guess how many are still in the story?

Four. Yes, four little things that have survived the hacking and slashing and ugly weeping of six more drafts. It was amazing to me to see how much my story had changed. And it's not just changing, it's improving. Very encouraging.

It made me think of this post by Natalie Whipple about the malleability of stories. Things might feel so important and key to our plot, but if they're not working out, you know, it's okay. It's okay, guys.

Now. I'm going to chant that to myself as I go back to kneeling in front of my laptop, begging this WIP to cooperate. Malleability. I got this.

And now you'll see how insecure I really am

Today I read a really dumb book. I mean, I don't want to be catty or anything, but I really didn't like it.

I read the blurb and thought, "Okay, well, I think I know what's going to happen, but hopefully there will be some good old plot twists to shake up the norm."

Oh, plot twists, where art thou? It played out exactly how I thought it would.

No surprises. Cliches galore. Contrived plot. Stereotypical characters.

It was torture. TORTURE I TELL YOU.

Now, you may be asking why in the world I kept reading if I didn't enjoy it, so I'll tell you: it's good for my self-esteem.

Yeah, I know, that sounds really catty, but let me explain a little better by telling a story. One day I was trying to revise part of my story but I wasn't feeling it. Everything I did felt wrong and I was writing in big, fat, smelly, ugly circles. I decided it was not my day to write, so maybe I should do some reading, because we all know reading inspires writing. Right? We know this. We do this.

I grabbed the first book on my shelf, which just happened to be Hunger Games. Here's a little advice: If you're feeling crappy about your writing ability, don't read Hunger Games. Just don't. My self-esteem, clinging to the edge by a few shaky fingernails, took a lumbering dive into the abyss and I spent the rest of the day stress-eating and sporadically crying.

I love to read awesome books. But sometimes, I don't mind reading a mediocre book, because I can see where it's not working and what I would change if it was my story. Then, my self-esteem can push the Wild Berry Skittles to the side, scuttle away from the edge, and say, "Hey, I'm not doing such a bad job after all! I'm on track! I'm okay!"

Also, after I read it, I was so fired up that I threw down 1,000 words, BA-CHOW, in no time flat. So next time you're reading a book you're not so hot about, try to see the educational aspect in it.

And let's save the Hunger Games for the more stable days, shallll we?

Blurgh

I think it's kind of cute when bloggers start a post by saying, "Sorry I haven't posted for so long!" Because really, it's okay. Everyone has a life outside of blogs (hopefully) and we aren't waiting on the edge of our seats for the next installment (usually).

That said, I am sorry I haven't posted for so long. I didn't mean to get behind, but life came and did a slam-dance against me. Hard.

I won't go into nitty-grittys**, but it involves the city's fourth of July fireworks show, a ride in an ambulance and several eye surgeries for my husband in Salt Lake City over the next month. Also a funeral, but that was unrelated to incident #1 (although they happened simultaneously). Add a bit of house-hunting, lots of traveling, and a two-year-old who has hit her tantrum stride, and we've got ourselves a party!

I'm overwhelmed. No, no. I'm making up a new word for the occasion: UBER-whelmed. I'm totally uberwhelmed.

But I've been missing my bloggy friends, and all your blogs, and the whole writing thing, so I wanted to check in. I'll be back soon!

In the meantime, check out the blogfest Christine Tyler is hosting. There are prizes! And new friends! And new friends are a prize in and of themselves but there are also gift cards! Retail therapy for the uberwhelmed!

**But if you want to know the nitty-gritty, you can friend me on Facebook (Jeigh Hardy Meredith) and read all about it. See, I know how to network.

"I highly doubt that."

Today I got a text from a writing buddy who just finished her first draft. She's floating on quite the cushy cloud right now and said that even though she knows she should be sitting back and not diving in to another project right away, all she wants to do is write a short story. You know, like true writers do.

I had just finished a long, self-absorbed emo-fest in the shower when I got her text where I'd convinced myself that maybe I wasn't cut out to be a writer, since it's been forever since I've worked on my story, and when I do find some time, all I can manage to think about it is, "Bluuuuurrrrrggggghhhhh."

So I texted her back, all cheery and sunshine, and said, "Sadly, I seem to have lost that writing spark...perhaps I'm not meant to be a writer after all?"

Her answer, among other encouraging things, was, "Well, I highly doubt that." And it was just what I needed to hear. She helped me back on my writing horse and slapped its bum and sent me back on my way.

Aren't writing friends awesome? My husband is supportive, my family is supportive, but writing friends are there to say "I KNOW!" when you worry about really dumb things like an apocalypse coming before you can get your book published.

So, here's to writing friends. Many posts of praise to come, I'm sure, because YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!

Who the...? What the...? How the...? Why the...?

I'm elbow-deep in boxes, preparing to move across the country in a week and a half.

Garbage bags full of stuff headed to Goodwill line my hallway.

Grandparents are flying in next Tuesday and Friday for my husband's graduation on Saturday.

We caught a newt and he's now safe and secure in a Mr. Potatohead multi-part bucket, eating dried bloodworms and hiding under a rock.

We bought and picked up a 7' x 14' trailer to pack all our stuff in. My husband, dad, and father-in-law will drive it from West Virginia to Idaho. I'll be flying with my four kids, my mom, and my mother-in-law.


All of these (mostly) related things have kept me busy the past little while, and today, while I was wandering about, I was thinking, "Wednesday, Wednesday, what am I supposed to be doing on Wednesday?"

Then I remembered, my self-imposed goal to blog Wednesday and Friday each week was starting to peter out. Oops.

movingpackingcleaningbloodworminggraduatingflyingboxingtapingdonating

I've had a lot on my mind. So, instead of trying to keep up, I'm taking a small blog-cation, until I'm settled in Idaho. And by settled, I mean there long enough to plug in my laptop and get online. Because I'll miss you all. *sniff*

So, a question before I deep clean my oven and vacuum underneath my bed: Any advice for transporting a newt on a three-day journey? Flying with four small children (without Benadryl)? Looking hot in graduation pictures? Not falling asleep during commencement? Crafting a wand from a twig and a stray buzzard feather so that I can magically pack and clean while sitting on the couch and watching the entire Veronica Mars series before our free Netflix trial-offer ends?