Writing in Color

The handbell group I rang with prided themselves on an unusually expressive musical style which they called "ringing in color." It was a term that came to identify their performances to such an extent that they legally trademarked it. When asked about it, our director was happy to explain what the term meant to us. "We want our playing to take the black and white notes off the page and bring them into full color," she would say. This was achieved by careful attention to dynamics, phrasing, melodic  and harmonic lines, and overall visual presentation, so the group was "as much fun to watch as it was to hear."

I'm well acquainted with the musical practice of analyzing each line of music, looking for the climax of the phrase, searching out the melody notes which might be hidden amongst the inner voices and the leading tones in chords. I know how to emphasize notes in order to make the music more meaningful as well as more pleasurable to the listener. It's a painstaking task, looking at a piece of music line by line, analyzing, dissecting, listening and learning to feel the best possible interpretation.

I never thought about applying this process to writing until this morning.

Beth Kephart, is one of my favorite writers and blogging friends, an author well-known for extraordinarily lyrical and descriptive writing style, the very embodiment of the "writing in color" idea. Beth  is hosting a sentence challenge for NaNoWriMo participants. She is seeking  "a single sentence as it was first written in the heat of a NaNo moment, and that same sentence after it has been reconsidered, revised."

As  examples, she shows us "before and after" versions of  sentences from her own work in progress. The first example is perfectly functional, grammatically correct, and clearly conveys its meaning. But the revised sentence reads as smoothly as warm dark chocolate, leaving a satisfying aftertaste in the readers brain. The first sentence is a clearly black and white while the second jumps off the page in living color.

Beth has said she can spend hours, days in fact, getting one sentence just right.  "I care perhaps too much about language," she writes in a blog post. " I want to take risks with it, yearn to push it.  (...) because I think we have a responsibility as writers not just to tell stories, but to try to tell stories artfully, with originality and daring."

I never fully understood the possibility of such an undertaking, but I'm beginning to.  Crafting colorful sentences requires the skillful combination of vocabulary and grammar but also that unexplainable "X" factor which allows you to recognize when the words appear in living color. Like any skill, it takes practice and committment plus careful and thoughtful study, particularly study of other writers who are successful with this concept.

Each writers voice brings a unique style to their sentences, just as a musicians touch does to their instrument. Beyond  basic good writing skills the best writers will take an extra step to compose sentences which transcend black and white ink on the page and develop into vivid colors in the reader's mind.

That's really writing in color.

"Community" Theater

The beauty of community theatre is that it is the people's theatre. It is your friends and neighbors sharing a passion. - Ruth Legg, Geneva, NY, American Association of Community Theater

Even though I don't act, or do stagecraft, I love theater. I wonder sometimes if there might be an actress hidden deep inside me, underneath the shy person who always chooses to remain quietly on the sidelines. I love the dimensional effect of people being right in front of me, real and alive, but not being necessarily themselves. I love watching them interact with other people who are also not being necessarily themselves. I love the "otherness" of theater, that I can be sitting in a room but also be on the coast of Maine or in the south of France or a New York city hotel room. I love the way a director's imagination can entirely change the way we perceive a character.

One of my dearest friends has, in her "retirement," begun a community theater program here in our town. I've been helping her, doing my usual sideline thing - a little marketing, a little shopping, even a little accompanying. The first production, a musical review, goes up next weekend, so rehearsals are intensifying as the show comes down to the wire.

I spent yesterday's extra-long daylight savings Sunday afternoon in the church basement where the production will take place. The cast was having a good time, still making some blunders, but nothing fatal. Sitting on the sidelines affords me an opportunity to watch the interactions between cast members and crew, and this particular group really impresses me. There are 14 in the cast, ranging in age from 25-65. Several of them are alumni of the high school choral program where my friend (the Director) once taught. Some are members of her church choir. A few are right off the street, urged by friends to audition. Some have acted a lot, even professionally. Some have never acted at all, but are eager and willing to learn. Each of them comes with their own life in the everyday world, their own problems and dilemmas of day to day living, which must be left at the door when rehearsal begins. They are our "friends and neighbors, coming together to share a passion." And they have come together without a hitch, and are supportive and kind and encouraging. That is a testament to them as people, and also to my friend, their director, who has a great knack for bringing people together and helping them work as a community.

It will be, I think, a good show and an emotionally satisfying experience for everyone. I know I'll be proud to sit in the audience and cheer them along.  They've come together to make something beautiful and meaningful - a worthwhile community effort, building community feeling and excitement.

Community theater.

I wish you could all be there to feel it too.

How about you? Have you ever participated in community theater or some other community building effort? How has it affected your life?

Second Chances

One of the party favors at my recent "Grandma-to-be" shower was a sampler packet of "Teabags for Nanas," from the Bag Ladies Tea Company. Each tea bag has a little saying on the tag, and I was amused by this one on my mid-afternoon cup:

A Grandmother is a mother who has a second chance.

There aren't any real do-overs in parenthood, and, if you're the parent of an only child, you don't even have the opportunity to rectify any of your mistakes with subsequent children. So as I sipped my tea, I couldn't help but think - if I had a real second chance at motherhood, what would I do differently?

First and foremost, I'd try not to be the parent of an only child. I don't think there's anything wrong with being an only child, and only children turn out to be perfectly normal people. But since we're all only children in this family, it would be nice to have a few more people in the mix -it occasionally gets lonely at the top of the family tree. And after seeing how much our dog Magic enjoys having a "little sister," and how much we enjoy having the two of them around, I wish we had added another human child to our family when we had the opportunity to do so.

I also would have encouraged my son to be more adventurous and take more risks, try more new things. We're all introverts in this family, and it's easy for us to settle into our safe little corners and pursue our own particular passions. I wish I had pushed him outside his comfort zone a little more insistently. I always tried to make sure he knew he could do whatever he wanted to do in life, whether that meant being a trash collector (that was an early dream of his), a Registered Tax Return Preparer or a doctor. We didn't care if he took the LSAT or the tax preparer exam - as long as he was happy with what he did.

It sounds trite, but it's true - I would have played more and cleaned less. We've all heard the old adage a million times - they grow up so fast! You simply don't have any idea how fast until they've gone and done it. I wish I could take back all the hours I spent cleaning house and use them to read stories, play Candyland or make "recordings."

But even though I'm totally stoked about being a Grandmother, I don't feel like baby Connor is giving me a second chance at motherhood. He belongs to his parents, and the child-rearing successes (and failures) are for them alone to make. No, I'm more excited about getting a first chance to be a Grandparent and developing with him that special relationship I had with my grandparents. I'm excited to take part in all his accomplishments, to watch him grow and develop his interests, to share stories about his family history and what the world was like in the "old days." I want to always be that extra margin of safety for Connor throughout his life, so he knows there's another loving heart and another pair of helping hands if he needs them.

And if I have a chance to do those things, I'll have all the chances I need.

How about you? If you're a parent and could have a "second chance" at anything, what would you do differently?

November All Year Long

Yesterday was the big day, the beginning of NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. If you're a writer, you've surely heard of this challenge to write a novel -or at least the first 50,000 words of one -during the month of November. Maybe you've even completed it a time or two or maybe you're participating for the first time this year. Whatever your NaNo status for 2011, you'll probably be hearing about it online for the remainder of the month. I completed NaNoWriMo in 2006 and 2007, meaning I got at least 50,000 words on paper in each of those years. I finished a "complete" novel the first time, and got more than three-quarters of the way to a clear ending on one the second time.

The benefits of NaNoWriMo were clearly evident to me both times I particiapted, but they aren't limited to the month of November. In fact, they are aspects of the writer's journey which could be called upon all year long.

1. Community: There is a huge NaNoWriMo support group - online and off - to cheer you on. Having the support of others dealing with the same situation is key to success in any big undertaking, and the NaNo organizers understand this. Having a cheering section, and also a group of people to whom you are accountable is a powerful incentive.

2. Deadline: I work best when I have a clear deadline, and you can't get much clearer than the  30 days of November. I metered out the number of works I had to write each day in order to cross the finish line, and I made sure I got them done. If I fell too far behind, I knew it was "curtains."  Steady and sure was the best method to finish the race, so I made a schedule and stuck to it. Committing to a schedule for 30 days isn't nearly as difficult as commiting to it for a lifetime, but I'm convinced you must have that kind of grit to succeed as a writer over the long term.

3. Goal: The goal was also clearly set - 50,000 words. Knowing exactly how much is expected of you seems to make it easier to stick to the task. You can track your progress and see an end in sight. Similarly, you know right away if you're falling behind, and can do whatever's necessary to catch up.

4. Freedom: NaNoWriMo participants are encouraged to "write shitty first drafts," and there's nothing more freeing than knowing it's okay to just write and worry about editing later. In fact, you're forced to "just write" because if you stop to edit too much or too often, you'll never complete the aforementioned goal on the aforementioned schedule! Ann Lamott knew it, and after finishing two NaNo's I know it too - it's okay to write things that aren't perfect. The important thing - at least initially - is that you Just Write.

If you're participating in the challenge this year, I hope you're successful. But even if you don't complete the challenge, the NaNoWriMo experience can be a positive influence on your writing practice all year long.

How about you? Are you doing NaNoWriMo this year? Have you participated in the past? What lessons have you learned that have helped you with your current writing practice?

Oh, Kim... (or What Would All the Old Armenian Ladies Say)

My mother is fond of telling the story of her first meeting with my dad's Armenian relatives. "I went to Hudson's and bought a new outfit and new shoes," she remembers. Since my mother has always been style conscious, I imagine her in her fashionable clothes, her stocking seams perfectly straight, her dark hair neatly brushed with a glow in her blue eyes and fair Scotch/Irish complexion.

"Your Dad's mother was there, of course, and all these little old Armenian ladies," my mother continues. "Every one of them had on a black skirt, a black blouse, and thick black stockings. They sat around jabbering away and I couldn't understand a word. But I could tell they were talking about me, and that it probably wasn't good!"

She switches off the remote control on the television, where we've been watching a story on Entertainment Tonight announcing that Kim Kardashian has filed for divorce from her husband, just 72 days after their lavish multi-million dollar wedding.

"I wonder what those old Armenian ladies would say about her?" my mother asks.

I don't have to wonder. I don't speak Armenian, but I know what they'd say.  "Shame on you" sounds the same in every language.

I've never watched Keeping Up With The Kardashians, mostly because I don't find reality shows that exploit family dysfunction very entertaining. But also because I'm Armenian myself, and I've always been a little ashamed of the way this family represents my nationality.  It's not that they make much of their ethnic background on the show, for which I guess I'm thankful. But their very name proclaims their heritage - the "ian" suffix (which means "son of...") is a dead giveaway.

Kim's recent huge wedding, with her three original designer gowns and her two-million dollar engagement ring is reported to have cost the family over $6 million dollars, but also to have earned them $8 million dollars in endorsements, rights, and royalties. I don't know how they divide the take on a wedding ceremony, and I don't care. I just know that's enough money overall to provide food and shelter to a lot of homeless people in this country. Or to send a bunch of teenagers to college. Or provide health care for a lot of sick babies.

And the fact that she threw the whole thing down the toilet after 72 days is enough to make me lose my religion.

Armenia is not a rich country. It's a nation that's been plagued with disaster practically since time began. My own grandfather fled the country during the Turkish genocide in the early 1900's, and he never saw his family again. Like the majority of Armenian people in the United States my ancestors came from a small village and lived off the work of their hands. The life they were able to build here in America - even a very solidly middle class life - seemed like great wealth to them.

Obviously the Kardashian family realized the American dream in a way most Armenian families did not.  The only thing I know about their background (and this fact says a lot) is that their father, Robert, was part of O.J. Simpson's defense team. But however they obtained it, I believe they have some responsibility to use their wealth and "fame" to represent their nationality in a positive light, not to become a symbol of outrageous behavior, wretched excess, and selfish gain.

Kim Kardashian is an extraordinarily beautiful young woman with an unusual fineness of feature. I admit to an occasional flash of envy when I see photos of her with her exquisite dark eyes and glossy straight hair. Not fair, I think, for one woman to be so lovely.

But beauty is as beauty does, my Grandmother often told me. Kim Kardashian's behavior is neither beautiful nor justifiable.

And it's certainly not representative of the morality or culture of the Armenian people.