Today I found the Writer Beware Blogs.

From the blog header:

“Writer Beware, a publishing industry watchdog group sponsored by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America with additional support from the Mystery Writers of America, shines a light into the dark corners of the shadow-world of literary scams, schemes, and pitfalls.”

I’m ashamed to say I fell victim to one of these in high school, promising scholarship money for poems.  Instead, I was invited to attend an awards ceremony in Orlando where the prizes included a fine sterling silver bowl (at $300 value) and a ‘free’ copy of the book of winning poems.

Meredith Cole, who will be teaching Essentials of Mystery Writing at WriterHouse beginning September 26, is currently on tour to promote her novel, Posed for Murder. Here’s a look at her recent experience at the Decatur Book Festival:

As I planned my book tour for my first book Posed for Murder, a wiser and more experienced author gave me a great piece of advice: Go where the people are.

Although it’s great idea to go to book stores on your book tour, unfortunately debut authors often end up sitting alone in the back feeling ignored. I definitely did my share of bookstore events, and have had some great experiences meeting booksellers and readers. But I also had great results doing events with other authors at libraries and book festivals. Book festivals happen all over the country, and attract huge crowds. Although most are there to see a famous or familiar author, others are willing to venture out to make a new discovery — you.

This Labor Day Weekend, I was one of 300 authors selected to be at the Decatur Book Festival in Georgia. It calls itself the largest book festival in the country, or “Bookzilla.” It’s a giant three-day festival with hundreds of volunteers, vendors, and about 65,000 attendees who love books. The festival did not pay for my transportation, but they put me up in a hotel, and ferried me to and from the airport. They also put on a party for all the authors, and provided us with vouchers for free food and drink at local restaurants. All the events (and the hotel) were around a square in downtown Decatur, so it was easy to get around.

I appeared with another mystery author, Megan Abbott, at Eddie’s Attic (a bar that launched the Indigo Girls’ career, as well as many other local bands). Megan and I each read for about five minutes, perched on stools like an acoustic act, and then answered questions. The crowd had some great ones (asking how we used secondary characters, how screenwriting was different from writing novels, how we created atmosphere, etc.), so we had a lively discussion.

We had a respectable crowd, and I sold a good number of books. Independent bookstores from Atlanta handled all the sales and signings, and I was glad to meet a new bookseller. They had me sign the rest of the books as stock for their store, and I imagine they’ll highlight them as “signed by the author” in their store.

Not everyone buys books at the festival, so it’s difficult to measure the true impact of an event. But beyond the sales, I met local librarians, talked to readers, and was advertised on their website and in their publication. My publishing house likes that I’m getting out there and doing my best to sell the book, and I’m sure that all my efforts effected their decision to buy my second book in my series this summer. So in a few weeks, I’ll be at Fall for the Book in DC, and in October I’ll be at the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville. The tour continues!

I’ve spent the last few hours glued to my computer, following links on a variety of topics, one being writing. I finally arrived at Rachel’s recent post about the Stanford Study of Writing, following her links to read more. I am not sure if I agree with Stanford’s Andrea Lansford that our current literacy revolution is as significant as the beginning of Greek civilization, but I do agree that writing is alive and well in today’s world. We have all experienced sitting at the computer far longer than anticipated due to the abundance of writing that keeps us reading, link upon link.

It is interesting to ponder Ms. Lansford’s remark about her own writing education. It did not, she says, include writing for an audience. I remember having that same revelation as a teacher of writing to elementary students. Having an audience was necessary, I told them. And yet I too remember essays written for a single teacher’s eyes only. I would venture a guess that students in classrooms all over the world write more frequently and with greater purpose than I did as a child. Writing takes on more of an immediacy. Students cannot wait to share their writing with classmates. They write for an audience. The Stanford students’ comments on their experiences as participants in the writing study confirm that writing for them is a means of communication. Reason enough, I think, for rejoicing.

Perhaps Ms. Lansford is right. Perhaps we are in the midst of a monumentally important literacy revolution. What do you think?

From The Morning News, one of my favorite news aggregators, I was directed to this Wired Magazine article (Clive Thompson on the New Literacy) which highlights some changes in how younger people view writing.

The article focuses on the work of Andrea Lunsford, a professor of writing and rhetoric at Stanford University, head of the Stanford Study of Writing. From Thompson’s article:

“I think we’re in the midst of a literacy revolution the likes of which we haven’t seen since Greek civilization,” she says. For Lunsford, technology isn’t killing our ability to write. It’s reviving it—and pushing our literacy in bold new directions.

She makes a good argument about the increased importance of writing in our society and how students have learned to consider the audience for their writing as part of the thought process of composition–something, I think, we all could do better. Take a look at the article.

I just read Ali Hale’s tips for writers that were included in today’s WriterHouse newsletter. The one that seemed to elicit the most responses was, “Call yourself a writer.” It’s tough. Why is it that so many of us do not feel worthy of the title unless our writing pays the mortgage?

I am reminded of the story of a young child, hard at work behind the easel at his preschool. His teacher, viewing the tempura paint masterpiece in progress, exclaimed, “Why, Johnny, you are going to be an artist when you grow up!” You can guess his indignant retort: “I already am an artist.” Indeed.

And so are you a writer if you make a regular habit of putting words on a page. Let this become your mantra: “I am a writer.” Believe it. Look in the mirror and say these words to yourself:

I AM A W R I T E R.

Then tell your dog. Tell your neighbor, your aunt, your friend, your coworker, every stranger you meet. . .” Soon, it should slip easily off your tongue without the urge to use any qualifiers.

Ready? Keep chanting as you grab your notebook of daily scribbles. Targets set,  join your writing group for coffee, remembering that being a writer is a criteria for being in a writing group.

Whenever I see a piece titled “The Moth” I assume that it must be related in some way to the writings of Virginia Woolf, Annie Dillard, or countless others who have written elegies to the short-lived winged insect. But the article I picked up in Sunday’s New York Times had nothing to do with death by candlelight. It was instead about a very spirited Moth that seems to be morphing all around the country.

The Moth, a nonprofit group who sponsors storytelling events in New York and Los Angeles, was formed by poet and novelist George Dawes Green. His move to New York took him far from the gossamer arthropods that lingered to hear stories on his Southern family’s porch. He missed them — the stories, that is — and the community that ensued. And so, he began to  invite others to his city apartment to hear and tell stories. Three or four people became thirty or forty and before long he was looking for additional room to host his new community of friends.

One of the photos that accompanied the newspaper article showed people lined up around the block, anxious to hear and tell stories. The article was largely about how a forum for the everyday man and woman had grown into a place where professionals are now regulars, hoping to be noticed by agents who frequent the halls. But it is the initial idea that inspired my response to the article. I would love to reproduce that storytelling community here in Charlottesville. And WriterHouse seems a likely place to try it out because that’s what we are — storytellers!

After visiting Moth’s website, I learned that Moth encourages spin-offs, even helps others get something off the ground. They call it “MothUP – The Living Room Satellite Moth.” Storytelling evenings would complement the already popular WriterHouse-sponsored readers’ evenings. They just might attract a new audience of writers into our fold, those who like to perform their stories, in the style of Garrison Keillor or Ira Glass. If anyone else has any interest in this, I invite you to visit the website at www.themoth.org and let me know what you think.

The National Endowment for the Arts has a great online resource for researching and applying for NEA grants.  The literature page has a complete listing of fellowships, grants, and other funding opportunities.  Particularly of interest is the Creative Writing Fellowship, available in alternate years for prose and poetry. These grants are for those who have previously been published. The deadline for applying for the fiction or creative nonfiction grant for this cycle is past, but for poetry you have until March 2010.

Have you ever wondered what “bellwether” meant?  How do you correctly use “either”?  And what should one do with a comma, exactly?  If you’ve been bugged by these and other grammar and usage questions, you should pick up Bryson’s Dictionary of Troublesome Words.   I recommend this book to even those writers who feel secure in their linguistic knowledge.  We could all use a refresher sometimes.

Bill Bryson makes grammar seem less like a monster (a fault of some instructional books I’ve come across) and more like a doddering relative.  He acknowledges the inherent confusion of English, the language of mish-mashes, dialects, ethnicities and slang.

Also try Bryson’s Dictionary for Writers and Editors.