Taking Back the Streets Cross Posted from Stop Street Harrasment

International Anti-Street Harassment Week begins in 8 days. One easy way to participate and help bring awareness to street harassment and empower yourself is by going to a place where you were harassed and reclaiming it with sidewalk chalk messaging!
My mom, Beckie Weinheimer, (pictured on the right) tried this out last night. She went to a place where she’d been harassed before in Florida and took back the sidewalk, took back the street, and reclaimed her right to be there un-harassed. She said, “It felt great!”
This act can also raise other people’s awareness about the problem. My mom said, “A lot of people stopped and two people took Stop Street Harassment stickers and said they will look your site up.”
I love how just one person can have a big impact with this method and I love that it’s easy and quick to do.
Last year, four women from Hollaback Brussels did a chalk walk to reclaim the places where they were harassed and they were able to empower themselves and generate a lot of conversations and consciousness-raising among passersby.  View their We Chalk Walk Tumblr of photos!
This year for International Anti-Street Harassment Week, End Violence Against Women Coalition, Hollaback! London, and others are asking people in London to chalk their streets with slogans, experiences and messages of solidarity throughout the week and send them to ldn@ihollaback.org to be tweeted and shared on social media.
No matter where you are for International Anti-Street Harassment Week (April 7-13), you can do the same. Take a photo of your sidewalk chalk message (either with you in the photo or just of the message) and send it to StopStreetHarassment AT yahoo DOT com and let me know where it is, and, if you feel comfortable, share the harassment story that happened to you there.
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The Next Big Thing Blog Hop

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop celebrates what the writers are working on or what they have coming up next. Welcome to my stop!

Greetings from West Palm Beach Florida, my new hometown! (At least for Winter--Maine for summer). Yes, because of my husband's new job we are officially snowbirds!

Photo by the great Melissa Lewis

I was tagged by a dear friend and National Book Award Winning Author, Kathy Erskine author of  Mockingbird and many other wonderful books for teens and adults.

I have two books I’m going to cover — although I’m working on many more — one which is being marketed by my agents at Pippin Properties and the other that began as a NANO project last November thanks to my librarian Sam who inspired me to write like crazy for a month.  I’ll do them sequentially …

1.  What is the working title of your book

Better Than Chocolate

2.  Where did the idea come from for the book?

From an amazingly spunky girl named Heidi who has Cerebral Palsy and is deaf. She is not afraid of anything but a suction machine, loves to cause mischief by knocking things over just to see them crash, and selects the strangest people as friends.

3.  What genre does your book come under?

Middle grade contemporary fiction

4.  Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I think Sandra Bullock would make a great mom. I'm not sure about the rest.

5.  What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Angie admires her sister Lindsey who isn't afraid of anything but a suction machine, while fifth grade Angie is afraid of a new school, eating alone, her crabby neighbor Mr. Davidson, the neighborhood bully, Cockroach Baxter, and most of she is worried that Lindsey will end up in ICU at the hospital again.

6.  Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?

Represented by Pippin Properties, Holly Mcghee and Elena Mechlin 

7.  How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Three weeks. That was years ago. The better question would be how many times have you rewritten this book? Probably almost a hundred times!

8.  What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Bridge to Terabithia

Harriet the Spy

9.  Who or what inspired you to write this book?

My good friend and author Lynda Taylor suggested I write a book inspired by the real events in Heidi's life.

10.  What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Better than Chocolate takes place in a small town near Hershey Pennsylvania. Angie loves chocolate so Hershey World does come to play a part in this story. Also Angie is a budding young architect and a neighborhood spy with Lindsey and best friend British-wannabe Melissa who calls her mom Mum and reads the British classics, like Sherlock Holmes and Jane Eyre. Angie, Melissa and Linsey converse in sign language and use Lindsey's talking pad. Lindsey loves lights, and Christmas. Here's a picture my friend Lynda Taylor painted of her looking out at her Chirstmas present from Angie--lights.

**And here’s the novel still in progress…

1.  What is the working title of your book?

What Annie Told her Granny

2.  Where did the idea come from for the book

My great great great grandfather was born in Penally Wales and he left behind  a lively journal about his life, stealing a house, getting whipped for skipping school to watch a big schooner arrive from America, living in a workhouse, and hunting and shooting. I was able to travel to Wales and using his journal to track my way to a small town, the estate he worked on, the local church where he was listed at bastard child and visit the workhouse. I thought how fun it would be to have a 14 year old girl from small town Utah (where I was raised), time travel to find her great great great grandfather when he was her age--14.

GGG grandfather's church in Penally Wales

3.  What genre does your book come under?

Tween historical fiction

4.  Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I have no idea!

5.  What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? (I made it two)

14 year old Annie, the oldest child in a family of nine, including three sets of younger twins, is always in trouble, and hates being a girl in a world in her small Utah town where boys get all the breaks. Little does she know when she stumbles off to the Brighamsville Tabernacle in tears, upset because she's been grounded for wearing her GGG Grandfather William Bates' lucky cap and dressing in her brother's clothes that she will soon get her wish. 

6.  Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?

Pippin Properties

7.  How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Still not done, but half of it was done in November!  Thank you NANOWRIMO

8.  What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Movies? Back to the Future

9.  Who or what inspired you to write this book?

My own life. I am the oldest of 9 children, with two sets of twins and a set of triplets as siblings. I grew  up babysitting, diaper changing, and folding clothes before the dryer quit the fluff cycle. My brother's chores were to weed the garden and mow the lawn while I had to learn to make whole wheat bread and sew. I just wanted to cut the grass and help tomatoes grow!

10.  What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Annie will encounter pirates, learn how the working class in Great Britain was treated in 1840's and discover that she wishes people knew she really was a girl when she develops a crush on her ggg grandfather, Willie Bates' (age 15) best friend.

Tagging other authors:   Karen Fisher-Baird, Maureen Hinds, Sheila Holsinger, Nancy Manning, Lynda Taylor. 

SCBWI Florida Conference --Message: Be Brave, Write From Your Heart

My husband just started a new job today in West Palm Beach, Florida. That means, me his free-lance, have laptop, can travel, wife got to move away from gray, icy NYC in January and ended up in--as my cousin in Germany commented when I posted this photo--Paradise. 

And fortunately for me just in time to attend the SCBWI Florida Conference.

What a lovely treat. Guest speakers included Bruce Coville, Toni Buzzeo, and Ellen Hopkins.

For figidty people like myself I was thrilled to find a small packet of crayons and notepad at my chair. So as I listened to Bruce Coville talk I doodled. Okay I'm a horrid artist, but it helps me consentrate. Thank you crayon giver!  

Bruce Coville said:

Don't start with a message start with your heart.

To make a good book great you must take risks. Not taking a risk is a risk. 

And quoting Cole Porter, "Courage is freedom."

He talked about leaving our comfort zones and his message made me reflect and agree. 

While at Vermont College pursuing an MFA in Creative Wrting and working on my creative thesis which later became Converting Kate, my mentor, M. T. Anderson, Tobin, as we called him, told me that my book wasn't about Kate going to the prom, but it was about the disagreements between Kate and her Mom. He encouraged me to go deeper. I went home from Vermont scared. I knew if I went deeper and published what I really thought it would hurt people I loved, people who believed in the relgion I had rejected. But determined to face my fears and speak the truth I took my laptop, kissed my husband and two teenage daughters good bye and drove to Ocean City Maryland, walked the beaches, locked myself in an inexpensive hotel room and wrote and wrote, and sobbed and sobbed and did it. 

And yes, I've made people sad, but I get so many letters and read reviews like this one I came across just last week, that the fear I faced was well worth it. 

I could not have read this at a more opportune time.  I was raised in a conservative Muslim environment, and my experiences and thoughts were almost identical to those of Kate's.  This book is spot on with the doubts and uncertainty experienced when trying to get out of an extreme religious upbringing, and my praise and sympathies to the author for having to deal with this kind of stuff firsthand and then be able to write so eloquently about it.http://ya-bookaholic.blogspot.com/2013/01/converting-kate.html

This is the best book i have read in my life. Nevermind words cannot explain. Beckie Weinheimer is just so inspirational. the way she made kate was perfect. how she had to stick up for what she felt inside, how deep the words are, it's like the words jump at you from the book. i've read second corinthians chap 13 :12 many times, and NEVER have i looked at it the way pastor browning described it. God Bless you Beckie. this book has done so much. 

Listening to Mr. Coville, made me want to come home and be brave all over again.  Thank you Bruce Coville!

Toni Buzzeo (who is very cool and also summers in Maine and when we spoke actually knew where Tenants Harbor, ME is!) took us through an idea she had and how it became a first draft--which she read, then a second draft--which she read and then to a much later draft--which she read, then took us through rejections and finally a sale. It is hard work to write a picture book. Or write anything. Determination, rewriting, and stick to it was her message. And it gave me new heart, to keep going and to remember as Bruce Coville also said, "First drafts don't have to be good, they just have to exist." 

I stopped my NANO at 17,000 words because of the move and family issues. But now thanks to Toni Buzzeo I'm determined to continue, to just get it down, just get those 50,000 words on the computer, just let them exist. Thank you Toni Buzzeo. 

Ellen Hopkins let us know that she doesn't believe in overnight successes. Her first book reached the New York Times Best Seller list after 2 1/2 years. Unheard of. She faxed every newspaper in the country, contacted other media outlets, she never gave up, she wasn't afraid to sell her book. She spoke with such passion for her books, all which have been banned. Talk about courage and writing from the heart. Go Ellen Hopkins and thank you for the shot of bravery your speech gave me to speak out about things people would rather pretend didn't happen. But they do!  I took such heart.

I love SCBWI. I didn't know a person in the room of 200 when I entered, but by the end of the day, as Anne Shirley would say, I found many kindred spirits.

"Excuse me Ma'am Could You Give Me a Blow Job?"

I am an avid follower of +Holly Kearl and  her blog http://stopstreetharassment.com/. It has empowered me and heightened my awareness of my vulnerability on the streets simply because I am female.

Just a few weeks ago when I was walking near my apartment in the well lit bike trail in Forest Hills Park, in Kew Gardens, Queens NYC, a slight boy of maybe 15, dressed in nice school clothes, carrying a typical school backpack tapped on my shoulder a little after dusk, and interrupted my tranquil walk with an "Excuse me ma'am." 

I took out my headphones and paused the audio book I was listening to. "Yes?" I thought he probably needed directions, or needed to borrow my phone to call a parent to pick him up.  

The very last thing I expected was what followed. "Will you give me a blow job?"

I stood back, frowned, sure I had misunderstood. "What?" I asked.

"Please, Ma'am can you give me a blow job?" This kid, shorter than me repeated. He looked scared. Desperate. "Please?"

I was horrified. "No. I. Will. Not." I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. "You better leave right now or I will call the police and take your picture and post it on line. "Do you want that?"

He took steps backwards still facing me. "Leave." I pointed. "Go."

And he did. Of course the rest of my walk was ruined. I wasn't frightened. I could have taken on this kid. And I was close to the road and cars and people. As I walked home, I called my daughter. The more we talked, the more I decided, this kid was being initiated, given a dare, and he was more frightened of the guys waiting in the bushes than he was of me. I actually began to feel badly for him. I even said a prayer to the universe asking that this kid wouldn't get beaten up just because I said no. But what kind of universe do we live in, when this is initiation, or bullying? Ane why is it that so many males see nothing wrong harassing an unknown female they come across in public?

A few days later, I was dressed to the hilt, faux ankle length fur coat, dressy boots, nice jewelery, walking in Manhattan with my husband on Fifth Avenue heading toward a concert of Handel's Messiah. As we walked and talked a street vender we were passing called out to us, "You have a beautiful wife, sir." My husband and I were in the middle of a conversation and he didn't even blink. I stopped several feet past the vendor and faced my husband. "Did you just hear that man? That was street harassment."

"He just wanted to sell us something," my husband replied. And then went on with our conversation.

"Are you not hearing me?" I stood in front of him so he couldn't walk. "That is street harassment. He is objectifying me. He didn't say Ma'am what a fine looking husband you have there, did he?" 

And my husband who is a strong male ally, a suporter of equal rights for women, and for stopping street harassment, finally got it. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I've heard men say, "I'd be happy if a female stopped to tell me I was good looking." But because that rarely if ever happens, and it almost never turns into something more dangerous, like groping or rape, they have no clue. Really no clue.

Fast forward to this morning. I find myself in Palm Beach, Florida. Its beautiful. My husband and I drove to the beach at sunrise. He ran on the sidewalk above the beach, I walked barefoot on the sand letting the crashing waves wash over my feet. I walked past the public beach to the un-lifeguarded beach where the road above is so high up that there is a 25 ft cement retaining wall, with steps down every so often from the private homes above. I was walking along enjoying the waves, the sun dancing on the navy blue water of early morning when I felt more than heard something. I was alone on the beach. I looked up to the wall, and there at the top of one of the stairways stood a tall, dark man. He stared down at me. He waved. I looked around. Totally alone. Not another person in sight.  I had two choices. One turn around and race down the sand the five or ten minutes it would take to the public more populated beach. Two, I could jump into the water. 

Should I try to save my iphone in my pocket or just race into the water? I knew the water was my best option. The man still watching me was fully clothed, long pants, shoes and a hoodie, all things that would weight him down in the water. I was dressed in only a tank top and shorts. The waves were wild. I am an avid swimmer, but I've had a few close calls in tidal waters with undertow and waves, so I had opted for a walk rather than a swim this morning. But the thought of that man coming for me, alone on the sand, was much more scary than the thought of plunging into the ripping ferocious waves.

In the end the man didn't come down. Maybe the rod iron gate he stood at was locked. Maybe he too was simply out enjoying the sunrise and waved to be friendly. 

The point is I didn't know. 

The point is females never do know when it will escalate.

My husband, running on the street above had no clue. He never will know the fear most of us females who dare to walk alone face every single day.  He doesn't have to plan escape routes whenever he ventures off the beaten path. I envy him and every other male that privledge. I hate it that I have to plan. I hate it that because a man waved to me my calm morning was sent into a frensy. 

Because yes, in my past, once on a quiet morning when I was fourteen, and a boy from my high school who I only knew by sight asked if he could walk with me on the shortcut through the fields to school tried to rape me. I didn't have an escape plan that day, but I shoved him away as he reached around me and unzipped my dress. I shoved him and ran-the fastest run of my life. 

I ran for three mintues, through sagebrush that scratched at my legs, over bolders and stones and finally skid down a steep grassy hill wet with morning dew where a neighborhood began. People were out walking their dogs and up retreiving their morning papers. Lovely, wonderful people. Gasping for air I turned back to see him at the top of the hill bent over hands on knees watching me and gasping for air too. It never occured to me to tell one of these blessed strangers what had just happened or to call the police. I told my mother that night. "She said, "But you got away, you are fine." And that was the thought in that day and age. In today's world I know my mother would call the police, call the school, fight for me. But back then we as women had so little voice to speak out.

It's forty years later and I'm still planning escape routes. Still on the watch for a stray male who may be eyeing me. People who say a strange man complimenting a woman in public is nothing, haven't had a past like mine, or sadly like most females. 

I will always be planning an escape route. I've taught my daughters to plan for their saftey in public places. My hope is that one day that if l have a grand daughter maybe she will be able to walk off the beaten path without fear, without planning an escape route. Maybe things will change. I believe they can change if we continue to share our stories, to support each other and to stand up to harassers when saftey allows.

NaNo National Novel Writing Month--Write an ENTIRE Novel in 30 Days

I think I can, I think I can.  

My stomach flutters with nervous energy.

50,000 words in 30 days?

Can I do it?

Cons:

-I'm taking a cross country trip to visit family in November. 

-I'm hosting family at Thanksgiving in our new little cottage in Maine!  

(Yes after more than a decade of traveling to Maine, writing about Maine--see Converting Kate, my husband and I own a tiny bit of Maine. We closed on our place in July. The plan was for me to stay a few weeks and then rent it out to help pay for it. But I'm still here. Can't leave. Too in love. My husband, Saint Alan, drives up six hours each way from NYC each weekend.) 

-I have company coming to visit me in NYC (Yes, I'm finally leaving the beloved cottage) in November. How can I write every single day? 

Pros:

-I've practiced my speech. "I'm sorry. Excuse me, I'm on a writing deadline. I'll have to hide away in my room for two hours. It's NANO."

-Maybe my family, guests, and friends will think I'm writing some top secret project for NSA, or the CIA, because NANO sounds official doesn't it? 

-What I've realized is if I don't do NANO this November my schedule is so crazy, I wouldn't get any writing done.

-Because writing is something done on one's own schedule, I often put off my writing because "its more important to spend time with family and I can write tomorrow." Being a writer with a flexible schedule means I'm available 24/7. Which I love. But also hate. When is my time? NANO seems to be empowering me to say my writing time is every single day. 

-I'm feeling so pumped, that maybe I'll invent DENO (December Novel Writing Month) and JANO and FEBO!  I'm hoping to get brave enough after thirty days to finally say to my family and friends, "Excuse me, I need to write EVERY SINGLE DAY. See you in a few hours."

Real Life Maine and How it Inspired my novel Converting Kate

Leave a comment below to be part of the contest to win a signed copy of Converting Kate!
Converting Kate Viking Books*2008 ALA Best Books
*Kliatt:Editors' Choice
*Books of the Teen Age-NYPL*CBC Notable Book
www.Beckieweinheimer.org

Have you ever wonder what inspires a story?
For me it was visiting Maine for the past 18 summers.

In my book Kate and her mother run Aunt Katherine's Whispering Woods Inn inspired by the real life Grey Rock Inn in Northeast Harbor, which is surrounded by Acadia National Park and was the town that inspired Kate's Puffin Cove.  The Grey Rock in is a bit pricey but if you are looking for a five star B & B to stay in, this is the place. And is just as wonderful as Kate's fictional inn.

As I put freshly laundered sheets on beds, I imagine the original owners who, in the early 1900's, were rich enough to build this seven-suite mansion for their summer home. Each room has hardwood floors and thick area carpets decorated with period antiques, lace-curtains and satin spreads covering the four-poster beds. All the suites have a fireplace and a private deck with views out to the woods or the ocean. After our small stucco house in Phoenix, with its Spanish tile floors and pale green walls, and Dad’s drab apartment, The Whispering Woods Inn seems like a fairy-book home to me. And besides, in Puffin Cove everything is green and alive, instead of brown and hot and dead.

At the edge of Northeast Harbor near the ocean is a small, historic church, called St. Mary's-by-the-Sea. I visited that church none summer and the musty smell stirred something deep inside of me. I began weeping and I didn't know why. I told my husband I have to write a story about this church and so I did.
At the end of the road, Jamie pauses in front of an old stone church. It’s beautiful. The sun hits the northeast corner, leaving one side in the light and the other in the darkness. Decades of moss cover several stones. Was the moss here thirty years ago? Fifty? A hundred? Who went to this church then? Did they come in horse and buggy? It’s so pretty. Like one of those sappy Thomas Kinkade paintings Mom always wants to buy. Only not. The faded red door could use a fresh coat of paint. The bricks in the walkway are worn down and cracked with age. My kind of perfect.
    The church is surrounded by a grove of pines. And behind the really old, gray granite building with its stained-glass windows, the ocean peeks through. It’s so quiet and peaceful. And yes! Water! That’s why Jamie stopped. She’s grinning at it and then at me.
    “Yes!” I say. “Let’s.”


Here are a few of my favorite towns:

Southwest Harbor. It's called the quiet side of the island. You can watch lobster fisher-men-women at their work, eat fresh lobster at the Beals lobster pound and stop by the Quiet Side Cafe for the best homemade cookies, pies and ice cream.

But the best deal in Southwest Harbor, and my very favorite place to stay on a budget is Acadia Cabins, a five minute walk from the heart of town, the library, shopping, wonderful bakery, restaurants, organic grocery and farmer's market, but so tucked into the woods that all you hear are the singing frogs and the trickling streams. The cabins are four star quality at an affordable price and your hosts Gordon and Lisa are the best! When I decide to extend my visit on impulse last week they scrambled to find me a place to stay even though they were totally booked including inviting me to stay in their own house. Lisa bakes cookies that make their way to your cabin while still warm from the oven. Its the best writer's retreat ever and only a short distance from my favorite swimming place, Echo Lake where I have gone  swimming to the haunting sounds of loons overheard and hiked the steep mountain for a panoramic view of Acadia National Park.

Winter Harbor is a lovely little town near Schoodic Point, a remote part of Acadia National Park with the best crashing waves ever! It has several affordable cottages and cabins for rent, live productions all summer at Hammond Hall, vsiting authors almost every week at the beautiful stone library, several gift shops and good restaurants, and IGA, and the best 5 and 10 store ever!

Midcoast Maine -- a bit of a drive to Acadia, but full of treasures all its own, with Camden, Bath, Rockland, Rockport, Owl's Head and my two favorite little places to stay, an easy drive from all of these, Spruce's Head and South Thomaston. I stayed in this little cottage last fall and finished a draft of my new novel, with panoramic views of the ocean 50 feet away.


I haven't even mentioned the hikes, kayaking,biking, whale watching and puffin searching boat tours, nor one of my favorites, a boat ride on a lobster boat with a working Maine fisher-man-woman which is where I learned enough about lobstering to write about Will.
   

“Here,” Will hands me a pair of over-sized rubber boots. “Put these on,” he directs. I sit on a bench attached to the side of the boat. The spray from the water and the wind hit my face as we leave the harbor and the boat picks up speed. After getting the boots on, I stand and try to keep my feet steady. When Will moves toward the back of the boat, I tag along, grabbing onto whatever I can. He begins sorting through a pile of metal cages.
    “Are those cages for the lobster?” I shout.
    He smiles and hollers, “Yep, guess you could call them that. We call them traps,” he says as he pulls one up and ties a long piece of black rope around the top.
    “Oh. Can I help?” I call out.   
    Will nods, cupping his hands around his mouth and says, “When we stop at our buoys, you can help re-bait the traps, after Pop and I empty them.”

Okay writing this has made me even more excited for this summer in Maine. The skies are blue when a sudden rain storm isn't passing by. The days are in the lovely 70's and nights can be chilly enough for a fire, or at least hot tea or cocoa. Blueberries are everywhere, if you sit on the ground, you might just sit on a wild patch of berries without even knowing it. And check out the libraries, they have the best librarians and I might even be giving a writer's workshop!

To Take a Writing Critique or Not to Take a Writing Critique: From Someone who Just Finished and Sent in Her New Novel!

Hello, I'm so cold today, I'm not even in my office. I'm sitting in my bed with the electric blanket on high. The wind is howling out my window, but the world is white and sunny. I love snow mixed with sun because it makes my world bright, and really what I think I hate most about winter is not the cold, or even the shorter days, but the brown and gray. If I could have snow all winter, I would be a happier camper. Now if I could have beach and sun and 75, well I would be in Nirvana! 

So two days ago I finished the last of the edits from my husband, daughter and my pseudo-son-in-law on a novel I've been working on for a long time. Yes, my dear family in VA spent two of their snow days earlier this week reading my manuscript one more time to find the tiny problems like bus, spelled bust, and two as in more than one, spelled too. It happens, no matter how hard I try. And then found tons of such mistakes. I know I would never write a book, never probably even post this blog (which I do not have anyone critique--so please forgive typos) without my dear close writing friends and family's help. My younger daughter a, journalist, showed me how to put in links, see above. You can find out what Nirvana means in case you don't know, because she showed me how to put in the link. She also showed me how to link my blog entries, so if you want to find out about writer's tips, you can find them, and if you want to see an author interview you can find that. Isn't that cool? And aren't I lucky to have such supportive family?

I guess what I'm trying to say here is it takes a village to write a book or post a blog.

Even though writing  is something you do alone--getting published is not something you do alone.

I don't know a single writer who doesn't have trusted friends who edit their writing, to find the small things like two and too and the bigger things, like "this whole chapter is boring" (which is what my husband said to me last week about one of my chapters, when I thought I was almost done with my novel and ready to send it in!). 
I love these words from a popular song, "You are the wind beneath my wings." And that's what I think of all my family, and friends who help me get published. I couldn't fly without their wind. I couldn't write without their edits.

And so here's my writer's tip.                                       Woods I Walk In

Find two or three maybe even four people you really trust, and let them help you, and critique your writing.

But never, never, let 10 or 20 people all give you feedback that you actually take.

A few trusted friends' edits can help your writing. Too many people who don't know you that well can actually ruin your writing. In one of my first attempts at writing, I did that, I let everyone and anyone read my story and took every piece of advice and I lost the heart of my story. My story became a hodgepodge of other people's words and edits--as was only worth throwing in the garbage. Only we the writer's know what we want to say at the core, at the heart, from our soul. It is true that we may not always be able to get it out right, so we need people who we trust to help us perform that miracle, but they should be people who trust your soul, trust your story, and aren't going to rewrite it into their own story.

Accepting a writing critique is something one should do with grace and dignity. Even if someone totally rips apart your story. Thank them. But then go home, and trust your own gut. I know advice is good when it rings a bell inside of me, when I can see that doing this will make my story better. But if it feels like someone just put a big X through the heart of my story, I smile, say thank you and then go home and throw, rip, toss the critique away.

Do not let anyone take away your heart, your soul, your passion. Ever!!!!!!!!!

That's my two cents.

And so today on this day of days when my novel is finished (at least for the moment--I know there will be rewrites ahead) I want to thank those in my life, who trust my story, who believe in me as a writer, and are still willing to tell me, this chapter is boring!  To you, the wind beneath my wings. I say thank you!


* Be the first to leave a comment below or email me at beckieweinheimer@gmail.com and
1)Define--Nirvana
2)Define--Hodgepodge
3) Tell me who composed (2) The Wind Beneath My Wings
and you'll win a critique of two poems or ten pages of your writing.
(As long as you haven't won in the past two months.)