This is our fourth annual WRITE NOW Writing Camp. We've attracted campers from 27 different schools and homeschoolers, as well. Kids come together from as far north as Evans City and as far south as Upper St. Clair to enjoy this event. We provide a unique, comfortable environment that encourages self-expression and interaction. What better way to release your child's creativity?

WRITE NOW Writing Camp is designed for students who love to write and for those whose parents wish they did! Cost is $130 and includes a t-shirt, notebook, binder, writing supplies, and a bound book of camp creations. Space is limited. Email judy@fatplum.com for details and availability.

This revelation in human behavior came to me recently as I unofficially gathered unsolicited (yet not unwelcomed) bits of conversation. The other day in my local coffee shop, I overheard two people talking about a situation involving a misunderstanding. After defending herself and her actions, one woman said, "You know, the one thing I'm not is a liar." Later that day at a school event I heard a man tell another man, "I'm not a joiner, but I signed up for this new committee they're forming." Finally, when my daughter exclaimed, "I am not a follower," it hit me. We want people to know what we aren't.

If these negations are a part of our everyday conversations, they must be important to us. I'm not cheap. I'm not a late person. I'm not OCD. I'm not usually this insensitive. These are examples of how we qualify ourselves in our daily lives. The list goes on.

Let's take it one step further, then, and apply this tendency to our fictional characters. (You nonfiction writers, hang on. We'll get to an application for you next.)

We call our regular gatherings "Thursday Night Therapy." I designed matching t-shirts for our little club (but no one ever wears them -- they're either saving them or I bought the wrong sizes) that say "Only 7 Days Left" because we've all admitted that while driving away from the restaurant every Thursday evening, we can't wait until our next weekly meeting.

In the comfort of sacred family pinky-swears, we can safely discuss our personal and professional lives, our children's challenges, our goals and failures and flights-of-idea. We can assume an outrageous stance or present a conservative one. We are able to freely discuss all those subjects marked as taboo in other social settings including politics (a discussion that often ends up involving customers at other tables and always the staff, because among the six of us, three political parties are represented) and religion. (Discussing sex is still taboo because, well, it just is.) Our interactions are full and feisty and very therapeutic.

So how can we writers turn the vibrancy of sweeps week into something useful? We can write outrageous (and I don’t mean “outrageously”, so don’t email me about the proper use of adverbs). We should write the outrageous into our every scene.

Recently, I began writing a scene in which my antagonist (a middle-aged, Botox-pumped gold digger) cooks up a pot of cyanide-laced chicken soup for her bedridden honey. After a deep swig of her midday scotch, she scans the kitchen for a large enough ladle to reach the bottom of the stock pot, in hopes of better dissolving the precipitous poison.

Several years ago, Web Guru (and friend) Cindy Closkey designed a site for me surrounding a book idea. We added good content and interactive options that eventually helped to build an author platform for an otherwise-unknown writer. I was able to accept the fact that I wasn’t a household name after several scientific journal publications, a contribution to a recycling textbook, several nationally visible personal-experience pieces, and a sale to Chicken Soup for the Preteen Soul. Even with an excellent, unique nonfiction book idea backed by a detailed, well-researched proposal, the agent and editors always wanted to know, “Who is this author and how can she help us sell books?”

Along with booking regional and national speaking engagements and writing a bang-up book proposal, came the Website complete with a monthly newsletters, contests, giveaways, and more. It was the national exposure we needed (and, believe me, we weren’t getting 10,000 hits a day). Landing an agent in New York wasn’t easy, but selling the book was even more difficult. After all, I was a relative-nonfiction-nobody, especially when compared to Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, and their parade of advice-wielding colleagues. (What’s great about it now is that my book rests on bookstore shelves between Drs. McGraw and Schlessinger in the Self-Help section.)

What then made the agent and subsequent editors take note of such an un-noteworthy individual as myself?

For many, many reasons, I was unable to attend the conference. So, if you feel sorry for me in the least (and if you were lucky enough to be in attendence), would you be so kind as to leave your comments, thoughts, impressions, and suggestions concerning your agent appointments, the presentations, the meals, and whatever else you'd like to include? If you are a speaker, let me know how your session went. Did you field any excellent questions? Those of you who attended or hosted the critique sessions in the evening, how did they go?

Conversely, if you weren't able to participate in the conference, like me, then feel free to wallow in your sorrows here, too. Others of you might like to share conference-going tips and suggestions we all might benefit from hearing.

In thinking about all the buzz I'm missing, I'm reminded of the following quote:

"I have made it a rule of my life never to regret and never to look back. Regret is an appalling waste of energy...you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in."

-- Katherine Mansfield, 1888-1923, Writer

So I don't regret the way life's course took me this weekend, nor am I going to waste time wallowing. I've vowed to accomplish several mini-goals with my unexpected time. In fact, I crossed one off of my list before I posted this very message.

Thanks for visiting! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.

Best,

Judy

These are the words of a self-confident writer who can comfortably explore how she feels about what's going on around her, how she interprets her observations, and how she allows them to affect her life. She is able to reveal what she wants and to face her fears head on. Are we?

Most of you know that essayist and author Joan Didion struggled through the sudden death of her husband a few years ago and the subsequent death of her 39-year old daughter only four months later. In an interview approximately 18 months later, Didion said, "I had to write my way out of it. Because I couldn't figure out what was going on. By the time I started it - John died December 30, I didn't start writing until October - I was out of the phase where I didn't know I was crazy. I was still crazy, but I knew it. So, it was a step back."

While Joan Didion was able to drop all pretense and face her fears through writing, many of the rest of us continue to struggle. We must strive to shake off the self-consciousness that often stifles and inhibits our writing. We need to forget about what people will think when our characters have disturbing thoughts or when they participate in frightening, twisted, or illegal activities. We need to fight the urge to edit toward the politically correct when, for example, we're working on a humor piece and we're not sure if entertains or offends.

The other day, I entered a local coffeehouse and ordered a decaf-skim-no-whip mocha. (I know, why bother, right? I could have ordered water.) After dropping my 92 cents change into the tip jar, I coughed up the courage to ask the barista a question, the reason I'd come into the shop in the first place. He was a twenty-something guy with beyond-baggy cargo shorts that defied gravity like no other. He wore a hemp choker and a gold watch that didn't match the rest of him.

"Hey, were you here for the comedy night?" I asked.

"I was." He turned toward me, seemingly surprised I was aware of the event. After all, I wasn't a regular, and he knew it.

"How'd it go?" I asked. But I didn't wait for an answer. "My friend came to read and I was wondering how she did."

"Oh, she did great." He didn't bother to ask which reader was my friend. "She was really funny."

She did it, I thought. She put herself out there, read her humor essay in front of a house full of strangers who sipped cappuccino and chai tea. Her debut reading was well-received. Yippee for her! Yippee, yippee!

I didn't question how the guy knew which woman I had referenced. I figured he had stereotyped us together, based on our ages or appearances or, I don't know what (the whole idea of which might make for a separate blog entry in the future). What was most important was that a lone writer had taken a chance, by putting a part of herself on paper and then exposing it to a crowd of potential boo-ers and hecklers and, least of all, critics.

Like my friend at the coffeehouse, we all need to push away the worry that the world might read between our written lines, because they will. And after all, isn't that what we want?

This morning, engaged as I was in my writing exercise, I took a moment to watch Pumpkin. Many times, I find myself looking on as she crouches in her pre-pounce stance. She is a true huntress, having to fend for her own food (I'm guessing at this, as she wears no collar). But I have never actually seen her come up with a prize. I often wondered how she survived. She must be eating something out there.

Just then, the taller grasses on the hillside shivered, and Pumpkin pounced. She proudly pranced over to the rock and released her catch, a baby snake of some kind, probably a foot-and-a-half in length. She pawed at the snake as it squiggled a snake-ish limp along the rock and eventually dropped into the more manicured part of the yard. Jumping down, Pumpkin taunted him, biting and pawing until he stopped moving completely. The whole process didn't take more than a couple of minutes.

Then, I heard the caw of crows as they swooped and entered my window-framed view. This was Animal Planet live, just a few feet away, with only a framed window between me and the wild.

With the lack of movement in the shorter grass and the mini-vultures overhead, I wondered, Will Pumpkin eat the freshly dead snake? Do cats eat snakes?, Neighborhood cats and baby snakes? Eeww, this was strange.

I continued my silent surveillance. Pumpkin pecked and nibbled and, sure as can be, devoured the snake, at least in part. I had my answer, cats eat snakes. But then, another unpredicted happening (for me, anyway) occurred.

Pumpkin climbed the hillside through the young crown vetch and stopped at a spot about halfway up. Her back was to me as she sat facing the hillside, tail swooping the foliage, back and forth. What was she doing? I wondered. She couldn't be searching for new prey, could she? She should have been satisfied from her recent meal.

Zapping that thought, Pumpkin's next move paralyzed me, mouse in hand. I witnessed the fur covering her body ripple from neck to hind haunches. Ripple and ripple and ripple, again. It looked far too uniform to be a convulsion. And soon I realized her body was ejecting her latest intake of food. So, cats don't eat snakes? Or they do, but they shouldn't, like dogs eat pebbles and babies eat crayons. I was learning here, that much was certain.

Throughout the day, the scene with Pumpkin popped into my mind several times. I talked with family and neighbors and friends about what I had witnessed earlier that morning.

Last evening, then, while I nibbled trail mix (because all real meals sent my stomach a-churning), it occurred to me. This brainprint -- my term for the unforgettable, unexpected image that fully engages, evokes a response, and then continues to haunt -- is what we writers strive for in every passage, every paragraph, every line. Pumpkin did for me, what I long to create and struggle to deliver to every reader who encounters my writing.

Kirekegaard's words "passionate sense of potential" stir something in me. Without potential, without a passion for possibility, what do we have?

As writers, each and every one of us has potential. Every word we write has the potential to be read. Every manuscript we complete holds the possibility of landing us an acceptance for publication. Each book we author might be the title that changes the lives of those who read it. The potential is there, waiting for us to give it a shove.

But unlike opportunity (that has been shown to occasionally knock its way into our lives), potential, like a late-term pregnancy, must often be induced. We can't ask for the promise of something good and then sit idly in wait for it to birth precious offspring. We must induce potential by creating possibilities.

I recently experienced the benefit of a possibility I helped to create. A while ago, I mentioned to a near stranger (the woman at the bank, as I've come to refer to her) that I was a writer. She is a teller and an avid reader, so my news struck a chord in her, of sorts. I see her at the drive-thru window every week or so. With each deposit or withdrawal, our serial conversation transmitted across a weak speaker system has progressed from the titles of my books that have already been published to the nature of what I'm working on currently, to the essence of the problems I might be facing with plot and character and subplot and so on. It's been interesting for me to hear her non-writer's perspective on the ups and downs we writers experience.

Here are the details:

When: Saturday, April 21, 2007
Where: The Art Institutes of Pittsburgh, 420 Boulevard of the Allies, 15239
How Much: Absolutely Free!!

Another buzz word in the industry is "brand." In answer to the question, What is your brand?, many writers respond, "Huh?" Established authors know that your brand is the whole package, it's you -- what you write, what you look like, how you dress, who you are. These all need to blend together to sell your product, your books and your voice.

And speaking of voice, presentations at the conference cover everything from Finding Your Voice or Photoblogging, to Podcasting and Building Your Brand. Like it or not, writers, this is part of what we must do. First, we need to write a great book, article, essay, or poem. And then, yes, we need to sell it. And all of the above techniques will help us do so.

So quit sitting around wishing you could hire a publicist to write your blog and sell your work. The presenters at Boot Camp PGH will show you how easy it is to get started and/or to keep pushing forward! There are even hands-on labs where they'll walk you through the steps to get started using MySpace or Twitter and much, much more. And throughout the day, you'll be able to speak one-on-one with these experienced individuals.

As of right now, 116 people are registered. You don't want them to know more than you do, right? So hop on over to the Boot Camp PGH site and register, now. The best part is, it's free. Note: This is NOT like one of those free financial seminars where they give you a doughnut and try to get you to invest in something. Nope, I know several of the speakers. They're just caring, sharing, knowledgeable people who want to help, really!

I'll be at the event on Saturday, and I hope you will too!

Click on the links above for more details! The time is now!

Upon hearing the news, my thoughts immediately turned to Columbine. This month marks the eighth anniversary of the school massacre that took place in Columbine High School in Littleton, CO where 15 people were killed, including the two gunmen. I'm not sure this connection is coincidental, but many of the facts remain to be seen.

My thoughts pivoted, then, to the amazing powers of healing and forgiveness displayed by the Amish community after the killings at the West Nickel Mines School in Lancaster, PA in the fall of 2006, just a few months ago. May we all mimic that faithful community's strength and their sense of unity.

My prayers go out to the family members of the victims of this senseless crime. I pray, too, for those families who have been unable to reach their loved ones and are experiencing a living hell while they try to do so. May peace come to all those involved. No one will be able to give these families satisfying answers; what answer could satisfy?

This tragic situation reminds me of a quote I once read by an anonymous author. It reads, “I guess when your heart gets broken you sort of start to see cracks in everything. I'm convinced that tragedy wants to harden us and our mission is never to let it.”

It is our duty as a society to recognize the cracks when they begin to reveal themselves. And we must, as the quote suggests, join together and refuse to harden in the face of evil.

If you're looking to write better than you can, you've come to the right place!

We at Fat Plum are hosting an event called the Xtreme Critique Weekend. It's a bit different from other conferences and workshops in that you won't be listening to lectures or writing independently on your project. You'll be working with us to improve and enhance your writing.

In a serene campus-style setting nestled among the rolling hills of Western Pennsylvania, we'll break into small groups, roll up our sleeves, and read your work. We'll offer focused comments and suggestions on how to improve everything from word choice and sentence structure to overall content, readability, and the ever-important marketability. There are five such sessions and each attendees with have the opportunity to read every time.

Discussions often continue into the dining hall, the floor lounges, and into the evening social events, where we cover such subjects as finding an agent, how to write a bang-up query letter, how to stay motivated, and much, much more.

Here are the details.

When?: June 29 - July 1, 2007

Where?: St. Joseph's Center in Greensburgh, PA (approximately 30 miles east of Pittsburgh)

How Much?:
$295 for a single room by April 28 ($330 after that date)
$275 for a double room by April 28 ($305 after)
$215 for our no-lodging plan by April 28 ($240 after)

What?: Fee includes 5 Critiquing Sessions, 5 delicious meals, 2 evening socials, lodging for 2 nights, and countless hours of meaningful interaction with serious writers

So whether you're working on a novel, a nonfiction book proposal, or shorter works, consider joining us for this unique event that places writers among caring peers and professionals. You will leave the weekend knowing what the next step is on your path to publication and how to take it.

For additional information, visit our Xtreme Critique Weekend page.

And for those of you with a special child in your life who has an interest in writing (or who has a loved one who wants to help them improve), I've got just the camp for you! My colleague Mary Patouillet and I are offering our third annual Write Now Writing Camp.

I remember a couple of years back when I was teaching at the annual "Remember the Magic" conference at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, NY sponsored by the International Women’s Writing Guild. I was responsible for teaching a nuts-and-bolts class on writing personal essays. While there, however, the instructors were able and encouraged to participate in any of the classes (they usually have around 70 speakers, so there’s definitely something for everyone).

In addition to the nuts-and-bolts classes, they offered others of a more touchy-feely nature -- you know, like role playing, releasing the muse, and the like. I figured I’d fill my schedule by attending the nut-and-bolts lectures about writing book proposals and perfecting the query letter. In those classes, I wrote out the homework every night, all related to improving and marketing my then-work-in-progress that eventually became The Frantic Woman’s Guide to Life (Warner Books).

One afternoon, however, I had an open slot, with no nuts-and-bolts classes to attend. And I, being the killer conference attendee who never skipped a session, found myself opening the door to one of the touchy-feely classes. When I walked in, I noticed the desks were situated in a large circle, unlike the more traditional classroom settings of the others I had taught and taken.

Earlier this week, I found Lisa Scottoline on The Early Show. And to my delight, she didn't disappoint. Among a range of topics, Lisa talked about the pains of rejection, having suffered through five years of it herself. Rejection is something we all experience. And yet, her words made me think about how reading the blogs of writers, agents, and editors is an essential task for writers. It is possible, simply by listening to the experiences of others, to shave years of valuable time off of the writing and submission processes -- a fine example of how "Don't make the same mistake I did" can really work.

Upon watching it, I’m reminded of what famous blonde Dolly Parton once said. “I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb... and I also know that I'm not blonde.”

Whether we try to or not, we humans judge. We assess. Appraise. Rank. We generalize. For whatever reason, we like to lump people into categories and assume certain things about them. We say accountants are nerdy, politicians are crooked, and athletes are arrogant. It's been said that professors are brainy, the wealthy are snobs, and blondes have more fun. Rationally we understand these generalizations aren't accurate. And yet, we are still surprised when someone breaks the mold. We notice and admire the people who simply refuse to squeeze into these stamped-out stereotypes.

So how can you apply this principle to your writing?