The Two Secrets to Writing the World's Most Incredible, Amazing-Sauce, Best-Selling Novel

AAAAAAAND, I'm back!

Hello there, folks! I'm excited to be back among the land of the blogging (and the land of the living-- I swear, I slept through at least three-quarters of my first trimester of pregnancy). I'll be around to see how ya'll have been doing over the next few days.

In the meantime, I'm honored to say my blog has been nominated as a Top Writing Blog by eCollegeFinder! Today, in that spirit, I want to talk about the best advice I ever got in my college years about writing. It was freshman year, and I sat in my first college-level creative writing class, eager to fill my somewhat empty brains with knowledge that would make me the world's most beloved, inspiring, and best-selling writer by the time I turned 19.

My professor walked in and proceeded to give the lecture that started the foundation for all the writing I've done since then. That day, he gave me the two secrets to helping me achieve all my writing dreams. In a fit of generosity, I have decided to pass on those secrets.

So, my friends, I would tell you this: have a take, and don't suck.


I know, right? And here we've spent all this time on stuffing our brains full of writing knowledge, and it's just that simple! Well, sort of. Let's break this down.

Have a take


My professor described "having a take" as giving a story that unique, personal touch that only you and your life experience can bring to the table. Story ideas are a dime a dozen. What makes that idea come alive and turn into that incredible tale that only you can tell is your take on that idea. What experiences in your life have given you insight that lets you turn that ho-hum idea on its head?

So find the thing YOUR life has made you believe in. Find a way to look at that story through a lens no one else has seen it through before-- because it's the one that belongs only to you.

Don't suck


You'd think I could sum this one up with a simple, "Well, duh." But this is the part that made it impossible to achieve by the time I turned 19. You see, with writing, we've all been doing it since elementary school. We wrote little stories and essays and journal entries at teachers' bequests, so we all think we're pretty darn good at it. So hey, we may as well write that best-selling novel because, after all, we already know how to do it.

Nope. Sorry. The craft of writing fiction is a whole different ball of wax. It's like playing the piano. Anybody can sit down and plunk out a few notes. But it's only the ones who learn the theory and then PRACTICE it who actually manage to play the piano well. So in order to not suck, you need to learn the theory. You need to practice. And unfortunately, that takes time.

But hey, just think of all the fun you can have with writing while you're learning not to suck!

So, my friends, there are the two secrets to writing the world's most incredible, amazing-sauce, best-selling novel! I'll, uh, let you know when I finally achieve that some day... In the meantime, what is the piece of writing advice that stuck with you over the years? And, hey, how are you all, anyway? It's good to see ya'll again. 

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Have you ever lost your writing document?

I backup my writing ALL. THE. TIME. I'm completely paranoid that the evil hard drive demons are going to eat my story and I'll go to pull it up and it won't be there. So for backup, I have a thumb drive, an external hard drive, and I email myself copies frequently. I don't want to lose my story.

I think the paranoia stems back to an experience I had when I was eleven. Back then, I wrote my stories in notebooks with pictures of unicorns or kittens on the cover. I was in sixth grade, and sixth graders (being oh-so-responsible) got to work in the school store during lunch if they wanted. I thought it was awesome. I got to be all professional and sell pencils, erasers, and candy to other kids for 25 cents.

And I got to work on my story when nobody came in.

But I didn't work in the school store alone. There were always two of us, and one day the boy I was working with STOLE my story. Okay, so I'm still not entirely sure of this. But I ran an errand to a teacher, and when I came back, the boy was gone and so was my notebook. I was in a complete panic. I tore apart the store, and cried when I got home. How could he be so mean?

Two days later, when I was working with the same boy again, I showed up to find my story notebook sitting in plain sight. The boy didn't even look at me, but I gathered the story gratefully in my arms and didn't put it down the rest of the day.

I like to think he started reading the story while I was out of the room and loved it so much he had to take it home to finish it. Most likely it was just a prank. But after that, I started writing on the computer and backing up everything on floppy disks.

So, my friends, have you ever lost your story to hard drive demons or mean sixth-grade boys? Did you get it back? How do you backup your own writing?

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What are your favorite childhood movies?

So I have an almost two-year-old son. He's a wacky ball of fun who is starting to throw tantrums express preferences for certain things. Some of those preferences are coming out in the shows he likes to watch, and I love laying out a line of movies on the carpet and watching him decide if he'd rather watch Cars or How to Train your Dragon.

Neither of those is his favorite movie, though. When my mom gave us The Goonies a few months ago, the Kiddo caught a glimpse of it and was hooked. He requests it all the time now. I feel kind of guilty letting him watch it (the kids on that show swear a lot more than I remembered...), but he loves the adventure, the music, and especially the character Sloth.

I love it for all those things, too. It's a movie I grew up on, and it's one of my favorites from my childhood. (So is the original Ninja Turtles, the Kiddo's other favorite movie.)

So, my friends, what movie(s) do you love that were a part of your childhood?

image source

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What dreams have you fulfilled?

This week, I talked a lot about how fiction can help fulfill those dreams we knew were a bit far-fetched. But what about dreams we've actually achieved in the real world?

I mentioned that one of my dreams as a teenager was to to live in Africa. When I was in college, I decided that was one I was going to fulfill. I'd saved up a ton of money for a study abroad, but in the end I didn't go with a school program. I picked a volunteer organization that set me up with a host family, a project, and I bought a plane ticket and flew to Africa alone.

Not going to lie, I kind of freaked out when I got there.

But it was the best four months of my life. I spent my days teaching English to the nursery class at New Life International Orphanage and School. I'd grind my teeth in frustration when the kids chattered in their native language through the lessons, then exclaim in joy when one boy managed to actually sit his little hiney on a bench and trace the letter A. After school, I'd spend a few hours in the afternoon wandering the streets to make friends, reading at the beach, or washing my laundry by hand. I'd spend my evenings playing games with my host siblings or talking politics and herbal medicine with my host parents. I'd spend my weekends crossing bridges set hundreds of feet high in the rain forest canopy or following a trail guide to find elephants.

I fulfilled that dream, and it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

So, my friends, what dreams have you fulfilled? What adventures, big or small, have you had that you look back on with fondness? What dreams are you still hoping to fulfill?

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Let's Hear it for the Boy

Because I've been talking about romance this week, I've been thinking a lot about my husband. I am really almost as cheesy as my teenage self, and my husband still makes me feel like a giggly girl sometimes. Our relationship, of course, goes deeper than that. In fact, my husband is one of the biggest supporters of my writing dream.

For a few years before and after I got married, I wasn't writing much. I worked on revising my first novel sometimes, and I wrote a few short stories, but I wasn't really focused on my writing goals. But my husband knew I loved writing, and the first Christmas after we had our son, he gave me the best Christmas present ever. A book by my favorite fantasy author, Brandon Sanderson, that he had stood in line for an hour to get personally signed to me. Oh, and the information that Brandon was teaching a writing class starting in two weeks and that he welcomed anyone to come sit in. He encouraged me to go.

I was thrilled, and I went. For an entire semester, once a week, I got to play college student again. That class, as I've mentioned before, was the pivotal moment in my writing. I began to learn what I had to do if I wanted to get published, and I had the motivation to do it.

My husband not only encourages my writing, he listens to me gab about it for hours on end. He pats my head when I get emotional about rejections. He lets me bounce ideas off him and helps me brainstorm. He even gave me the inspiration for my current WIP.

In short, he's freakin' amazing. He, of course, does a lot more than support me with my writing, but I wanted to share that with my fellow writers today.

So, my friends, do you have someone who is your cheerleader in your writing? Let's hear about them!

P.S. Check out Ladies Who Critique, a new crit partner finding site that is awesome! I'm also happy to announce I'm part of a new Facebook page called The Write Advice, where you can get blog feeds of helpful craft advice. Check them out!

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Why do you love writing?

I'm not going to lie-- I'm exhausted. I'm 1,000 words behind for JuNoWriMo, but most of the exhaustion comes from just having too much fun this week. :) I've spent a lot of time in the canyon with my little family, and I also checked out a DVD on Jazz dance from the library for research. My MC in TUGL is a dancer, and I haven't danced since I was a kid. It's been fun to do my exercise to the DVD, but it sure is exhausting!

So today's post is going to be short. I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I love writing. Not that it isn't hard, and I don't have moments where I want to chuck my computer through the window. But I really do love writing.

My mom says she knew I was going to be a writer from the time I was a toddler. Instead of taking a pencil and paper and coloring, I would draw careful circles across the paper in nice straight lines-- my excuse for letters. I remember writing stories in notebooks, and how excited I was to get to use my dad's old computer (it ran on DOS! Oy, that makes me feel old.) to write my stories. Even the actual act of sitting down to write still excites me as I wonder what will happen in my story today that's different from what I've already got planned.

I'm not sure why I've loved writing since I was so little, but I think it has something to do with the joy of creation. I've always loved reading because I could escape into new and exciting worlds. What I love about writing is that I get to CREATE new and exciting worlds. I get to invent new people, fascinating challenges, and vivid settings, all inside the frame of an entertaining story. And it is SO DANG FUN.

So, my friends, why do you love writing? Do you love the actual writing part, or do you love having written? How did you discover your love for writing?

image source

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It's no BEA, but the Utah Festival of Books Rocked

On Saturday, I packed the Kiddo into the car and headed off to my alma mater, BYU, for the Utah Festival of Books. I was excited for books and the people who write them. He was excited to be outside. It was a win-win situation.

It was fun and a little surreal to be back on campus again, pushing a stroller. We started off with the kids games. The Kiddo colored a lovely paper hat he refused to wear, and enjoyed watching the people dressed as children's book characters: Madeline, Winnie the Pooh, Clifford the dog, and, um, Darth Vader. Yup, he's the first one I think of when children's books come to mind. He went fishing and got a sticker, and then won a book on the Book Walk.

We stood in line for quite a while for James Dashner's signing, but the awesome thing about waiting in lines like that is you meet people who love the books you do. I got my book signed, and to my surprise, James remembered me from BYU's Life, the Universe, and Everything symposium (and from winning one of his signed ARC's of The Scorch Trials-- it helps sometimes to have a weird name!). I, of course, had forgotten my camera, but he was kind enough to post for a cell phone picture. Twice, since I accidentally deleted the first one.

I met the awesome Kiersten White, as well, and got Paranormalcy signed. Meeting the authors I admire always gets me a little giddy! It's inspiring to meet the people who write books, just like the rest of us, and have reached those goals I'm still reaching for. It's like a pep talk without the talk. Sadly, I couldn't get a picture with her because my cheapo phone camera doesn't work well outside. I also met this lovely lady in line. Go check out her fabulous book blog!

We got a little lunch at the Scoreboard Grill, bringing back some lovely memories. By then, the Kiddo was sick of sitting in the stroller, so I let him run around. He ended up leading us to the Museum of Art, where we found what I'm fondly calling the Big Block of Books. It's big. It's a block. It's made entirely of books. It was freakin' awesome.

And then, home we went. It was an awesome day with just me, the Kiddo, and a whole lot of books. I leave you with this quote from the few minutes of Brandon Mull's presentation I caught: "Just because you grow up doesn't mean you have to break up with your imagination."

So, my friends, did you do anything fun this weekend? What is your favorite book-related event you've been to?

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Things that Make Me Happy

Yesterday at the store, I found this.

That's right, my friends. Fanta in a glass bottle. I'm sure that doesn't thrill you nearly as much as it does me, but Fanta in glass bottles is practically a meal staple in Ghana. I've never seen it here in the States, but it tastes SO MUCH BETTER than the Fanta you get here. There's less sugar and less fizziness than in American soda. See that cheesy smile? Yeah, that's me on cloud nine, reminiscing about buying a warm Fanta out of a cooler for 3,000 cedis (30 cents) from a lady on the side of the road who calls me "obruni kakraba." That means small white girl.

Another thing that makes me happy is this.

For the first time since the Kiddo was born, Hubby and I are having a little getaway. Happy fourth anniversary to us!

And this also makes me happy.

I'll be at the LDStorymakers Writing Conference on Friday and Saturday, and I can't wait!

So, you won't see much of me around here the rest of the week. I will be (hopefully) tweeting from the conference, though, so keep an eye out for some awesome writing tweets! I hope you all have a happy week. :)

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Finding Balance in the Writing Life a Day at a Time

We writers tend to share similar concerns-- that's one of the reasons I love blogging. I read someone else's post on something that worries me too, and think, "I'm not alone!" Recently, I've been thinking about something I've seen on several blogs that's a big concern for me too. We call it "finding balance."

Typically, the answer for finding balance is to simplify. Cut out TV, get the kid's help with housework, wake up earlier, etc. And it's a great point. Simplifying life is actually quite refreshing. But still, life is still busy. There are some things you just can't "simplify" out.

I'm a stay-at-home mom of a toddler, so compared to a lot of you, I'm not actually that busy! Seriously, I don't know how some of you do it. You're amazing. But balancing all the balls I've got is still something I worry about. A lot, actually. I'm somewhat paranoid about making sure I don't sacrifice my family to my writing-- I never want them to feel they're second on my priority list.

Here's the thing. That paranoia and worry was stressing me out. I tried making up schedules on Excel sheets, and even that didn't work for long. "Finding balance" became another ball to juggle. Until yesterday, when I realized something.

Finding balance is not a one-time thing.

Using the word "finding" makes it sound like balance is an object we're searching for, and once we've got it, we'll be fine! Not so, my friends. Not so. When I tried writing my schedule, I realized, I CAN'T schedule my life right now-- it changes every day. Some days I need to do major housecleaning for a few hours. Some days I need to take my son to the park and just have fun with him. Some days I have to take the car to the shop. That's when it hit me.

Finding balance means taking it a day at a time.

That's not to say I shouldn't have a schedule, and that I can't plan some things out. But life is always in flux. I have to look at this particular day and decide what the balance will be. Some days, it'll be tipped in the direction of family, some days in the direction of writing, and others in the direction of the daily crisis. As long as the scale isn't tipped in one direction for too many days in a row, it's okay for things to be "out of balance" for a day or two!

So, my friends, don't be afraid to let your balance scales tip back and forth. What things do you do to keep your balance in life? What things do you worry about?

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Finding Your Sense of Awe

When I was in college, I took the oddest--and coolest-- biology class ever. My professor insisted that in order to properly study science, we needed to appreciate it. He said that the world in general has lost its sense of awe. Our first assignment was to go anywhere in nature, sit for half an hour, and just feel it. And then of course write about it, which necessitated thinking about what we'd felt.

I try to remember his advice sometimes when I start to get stressed, or just bogged down in the daily trudge through mundane things. A few days ago, I bundled up the Kiddo and took him out on a walk. Normally, I stick him in his stroller to go to the park, but that day I just let him wander along the sidewalk next to me.

We stopped every thirty seconds.

We stopped on the yellow bumpy strip that alerts blind people to a crosswalk, and stomped on it to really feel the bumps. We poked at the green shoots popping out of the dirt, ready for spring. We picked up wood chips and sniffed them.

The whole walk was Kiddo-directed, and included running back to favorite spots multiple times. We didn't make it that far down the street, but it didn't matter. We weren't going anywhere. We were just enjoying.

As I watched the enjoyment he had in such small things, I realized I had been missing those things. I wasn't paying attention to the feel of bumps under my feet, the contrast of green plants against brown dirt, or the rain-drenched scent of wood chips, because those things weren't important to me.

Not until our walk, anyway. On that walk, those things were very important as I re-discovered my sense of awe. I really paid attention to the world, and to all the wonderful things in it. When we got back from the walk, I was filled with contentment.

So, my friends, do something to find your sense of awe today. Let it replenish a life you constantly spend emptying with all your daily tasks. Do it to refill your writing coffers, but also just to do it to be alive today. And please share. What things do you do to refill, recharge, and rediscover the world?

Pic is of the Kiddo when he was still the Bambino, getting his first exposure to spring.

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Updates from the Sick House

NOTE: If you're here for the Show Me the Voice blogfest, you can find my entry here!

So the Kiddo got sick a few days ago, hence the sparse posting this week. It's always sad to see him lethargic and feverish, but luckily he's on the mend. Which is good for several reasons, not least of which is I can't bear to watch Ninja Turtles one more time.

Unfortunately, now I'm starting to feel under the weather, so I still have no real post for today. Just a few housekeeping things.

First, thanks to Karen and Gale for my most recent awards! You ladies are awesome. :)

Also, you can now find me on Goodreads! I had an old account with my maiden name I haven't touched in years, but last night I created a new one and spent WAY too much time on it. If you're there, find me and friend me!

And my crit mate and friend Chersti is holding a contest of awesomeness on her blog! Enter your first line and get a chance at some awesome agent critiques-- plus a discount on the Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers conference in June!

With any luck, my voice will hold out for me to keep reading Devs out loud over the next few days. I may still have a few revisions as I go through this final read-through, but my goal is to finish and start querying by May 1-- just in time for the LDStorymakers Conference! Wish me luck. :)

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When Tragedy Hits Home

Whenever I hear of natural disasters, it makes my heart ache. So many people are affected in so many ways, and the tragedy is beyond my scale of understanding. But when I heard about the earthquake and tsunami in Japan today, that tragedy hit home.

My husband lived in Japan for 2 years as a missionary for our church. He whispered romantic things to me in Japanese when we were dating, and even proposed in Japanese. I have seen pictures and heard stories that have made the land and the people dear to me. I even tried to learn Japanese, though it didn't go too well.

That has made today's disaster personal for me. My husband has been beside himself; he knows these towns and walked these streets and is friends with many of these people. He doesn't know how to contact most of them except by letter, and so he doesn't know how they're doing. He is crushed knowing the depth of the disaster, and that crushes me.

The same year I started dating my husband, I had a Japanese roommate. We became good friends, but we lost touch after she graduated and moved back to Japan. Just this Christmas, we started emailing each other again. She lives north of Tokyo, though I'm not sure where, and I haven't heard from her. I know she is likely fine and just doesn't have the electricity to respond to my email, but the not knowing is painful and frightening.

I know I don't normally post personal things on this blog, but today's events hit me hard and I needed to share them. If you're a praying person, please pray for Japan. If you're not, please send your best wishes. And if you can, find a way to help. We often talk in blogging about being a community of writers, but sometimes tragedy helps us remember that we're also a community of human beings across the world.

Thanks for listening, friends.

*UPDATE* I got word from my friend this morning that she and her family are fine. They felt the quake, but live far enough away that they didn't suffer any major damage from either the earthquake or the tsunami. I'm feeling greatly relieved.

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Gratitude, Dreams, and the Approach of Awesomeness

FIRST, thank you to all you lovely friends who commented on yesterday's post. Thanks for your encouragement and commiseration. It's comforting to know that we're all in the same boat, and sometimes struggle with doubts, depression, and lack of confidence. For me, today is already better than yesterday-- which I suppose is what we're all going for, right?

ALSO, I dreamed last night that I asked my local librarian to be my agent. He was thrilled to death. Then he locked me in an ornate vault in the library basement and said I couldn't come out until I finished all my revisions. HA! I'm still chuckling about it.

PLUS, tomorrow is the day of awesomeness on this blog, full of things you will covet dearly. At least, I think you will. I covet them dearly, and I think you will as well.

So, my friends, any crazy writing dreams lately? Any awesomeness you would like to share as well?

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On Being Enough-- Facing Writer's Depression

Today has been one of those days. Gooser is teething, which makes him whiny and clingy. The dishes have piled up so high they're spilling over the edge of the sink. There are bits of day-old food on the floor, unfolded laundry piled up in the bedroom, and toys scattered across the living room. My query letter is a mess and I'm starting to wonder if my book is even worth querying.

It's too much, and I'm feeling not enough. There's a voice inside us that whispers that to us a lot. You are not enough.

It's an affliction we face often as writers, I think. There are millions of voices on the internet, at conferences, and in books that tell us how to be enough. If we don't reach those goals, we just aren't enough.

You don't write everyday. You are not enough.

You don't blog three times a week. You are not enough.

You haven't been writing since you were three. You are not enough.

You can't afford to go to a conference this year. You are not enough.

Your plot is weak, your characters are flat, your beginning isn't gripping, your idea isn't high concept. You are not enough.

Some days, like today, the voices are louder. With Gooser finally quiet while he munched on cheese, I fought back my depression by tackling the dishes. My husband came home from school, gave me a hug, and thanked me for doing the dishes. And I nearly cried, because it was only dishes, but he told me what I needed.

You don't have to do it all to be enough.

You are trying. That's enough.

So, my friends, today I pass that on to you. You are trying. You are enough.

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Awards, Fun Facts, and Merry Christmas

So I've been sitting on these awards for a while, and figured I should finally pass them on! Margo Kelly gave me the From Me to You award, and Alexia Chamberlynn gave me the Honest Scrap award. Thanks so much, ladies!

Here are a few random facts about me to go along with the awards:

1. I once hitchhiked in Africa in a truck full of guys. Not my smartest moment, but I ended up alive and with a few new friends.

2. I have double-jointed ankles-- I can actually flip my feet backwards so my heels are pointing forward.

3. In college, I took a road trip that involved spinning a bottle and traveling the direction it pointed. We had no destination, and just stopped at all the places that had signs like "Historic Rock Formation." There was also an orangutan involved. I never knew Idaho could be so cool.

4. My favorite Disney character is Eeyore, because I just want to give him a hug.

5. I got hit by a car in college as I roller-bladed to work. I was in the crosswalk and the person turning left wasn't watching, and...bam. I'd always thought it would be cool to ride in an ambulance. It's not.

And the awards go to (take your pick of either one!):

Katie Anderson

Jennifer Hoffine

Ellie Garratt

Melissa

Rachna Chhabria

And lastly but not leastly, Merry Christmas, all you wonderful folks! I'll be off the blog until after the holiday, and I hope you all have as much joy as I'm anticipating.

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Happy Halloween...

...from the McArthur Pirate Clan! Argh!

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Remembering the Storyteller

In the crazy-competitive, market-yourself, write-the-breakout-novel-or-fail world of becoming an author, it's easy to forget why the heck you're doing this in the first place. But the other day, a little memory from my first volunteer trip to Ghana popped into my head, and I remembered why I work so hard in my writing.

I sat on a plastic chair under a mango tree, watching fishing boats sail the Gulf of Guinea. My four-year-old host sister dragged a chair across the yard and placed it right next to mine.

"Sistah Shallee," she said, climbing into the chair, "come, I will tell you a story."

"Okay, Nananua," I said. "Tell me a story."

"Once upon a time..." she paused, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't say anything, she said, "Sistah Shallee, when I say once upon a time, you must say 'time, time.' Okay? Once upon a time..."

I sat back in my chair and smiled. "Time, time."

"...there was a very, very, very, very, very bad boy..."

She went on to tell me of this boy and how he disobeyed his mother by wandering into the forest, where he was cursed by a witch. There were quite a few "very, very's," and sometimes the boy was momentarily a girl instead, but I clapped for her when it was over.

It made me smile as I remembered her brown eyes getting wider with excitement as she told her tale. She had created a wonderful story, and she wanted to share it.

That, I remembered, is exactly what I do. I imagine a story, or take one from my life, and it's wonderful enough to make my eyes go wide. Wonderful enough that I have to write it. Like Nananua, I am a storyteller at heart, and what is a storyteller if she doesn't share her stories?

That, I remembered, is why I write and rewrite and blog and research agents, striving for publication. Because I am a storyteller.

So, my friends, now I'm curious. What makes you do what you do? What gives you your passion?

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Aspiring Author Interview!

My friend and awesome crit partner Michelle is doing a weekly feature called Aspiring Author Interviews! And I was lucky enough to be her first interviewee. This is a great way to get to know your fellow aspiring authors. So go check out my interview and Michelle's awesome blog!

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What's Your Writing Routine?

I don't write at a desk.

This is not because of some "free the poet within" sort of philosophy, or some bizarre quirk that makes it easier for me to write while sitting in an empty bathtub. It's because I'm poor (ish).

Luckily, a laptop can go anywhere, and with a $20 TV tray, I've got sort of a little nook set up. The Muse-fish keeps me company, and I can settle into the comfy couch and write for hours. So really, I don't mourn the lack of a desk at all.

Every writer has some kind of routine (which for me includes my space). And I'm a very routine kind of girl. Of course, my little Gooser makes it a little tough to keep that routine, but being a mom has helped me learn to roll with the punches.

I try to write every day, and I usually hit that goal. Most mornings, I put Gooser to bed around ten and get a glorious two hours to write. Sometimes, I get another hour or two at night (depending on if I got any work done that day-- I do contract editing from home). I do my blogging and networking sporadically throughout the day, but I try to squeeze it into one big chunk if Gooser takes an afternoon nap as well.

And all from my cozy little nook!

So, my friends, I'm curious. What does your writing routine look like? Where do you write? Share away!

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Beauty in Layers: Writing Powerful Scenes

I've been thinking a lot about powerful moments in my life, and what made them powerful. And of course, I've been thinking about how to put this into my writing. This morning, I thought about the summer I was on a crew team (rowing), and something clicked. It was something small, but something that changed me. It was powerful for me. Let's take a look at why.

In college, a friend of mine had hooked up with a crew team, and said it was a blast. The catch? We had to be up at 4:30 am. On a Saturday. But I was curious, so I said yes.

I had no idea how crewing worked. I had never met anyone else on the team. I stood, bleary-eyed, on the shore of the Great Salt Lake that Saturday morning, wondering if this was a good idea. The captain eyed me.

"You're short," he said.

I sighed. Was my 5 foot 1 stature going to get in the way? It wouldn't be the first time.

"Short's good."

I blinked. "It is?"

"Yeah. We need a cox, and you're perfect."

Well. Never before had my shortness been labeled perfect. I would cox til my arms popped off for perfect.

Cox was short for coxswain, and it meant I was in charge of navigation, steering, and giving general orders to the eight-person team. Cox's are generally preferred to be small and lightweight, because they don't contribute by sweeping, or rowing. I was a perfect cox.

After a little training, we rowed out into the lake. Using the "cox box," (basically a mic and a speaker system), I relayed the captain's orders, keeping strokes smooth and navigating in the right direction. We were the only people on the lake. The sun was just coming up, and the seagulls swooped around, calling to each other. The world was wrapped in cold shades of blue. Soft splashes sounded as the oars cut cleanly into the water, perfectly synchronized.

We flew across the lake, our rhythm dictating our speed, and the salty breeze chilled my cheeks. Out there, we were a team, moving as one to achieve our common goal. And I had a part in it-- a part that I filled perfectly because of what I had so long considered a defect.

Is it any wonder I continued to turn out at 4:30 every Saturday morning that summer?

It was powerful to me because of its beauty, and because of the layers of the beauty. So how does this apply to writing? Think of the most powerful scenes you've read recently. Whether they are tragic, happy, horrible, or incredible, there are aspects of beauty in them.

There is physical beauty. Of course, this doesn't mean that every powerful scene takes place in Eden. Even desolation can be hauntingly beautiful. When writing your powerful scene, make it take place somewhere distinctive. Somewhere that echoes the tone you want to create. And be descriptive, using all five senses. I found crewing beautiful because of the colors, the cold, the salty air, and the swishing of the water.

There is emotional beauty. Crewing was powerful for me because it took my weakness and turned it into a strength. It touched me on an emotional level, and changed the way I saw myself. It also turned me into part of a team, giving me relationships with other people. For a scene to be truly powerful, it must have emotional implications for a character-- and therefore a reader.

There is the beauty of the language. The scene must be written beautifully to be powerful. There's just no way around it. I think of it like the rhythm of the rowing. There is a specific knack to rowing, to make sure your oar doesn't get caught in the water. It must be done in perfect synchronization for the boat to move at its fastest. When perfect rowing happens, the cadence and flow of the boat is beautiful and swift. Make your language like that. Precise, but evocative.

It's difficult to create layered beauty in writing. But when it's done right, it can have a powerful effect on the reader. Good luck, my friends, and may all your writing be beautiful!

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