10 Ways to Make Your Writing Wicked-Good

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer
Originally posted on February 16, 2011 at 12:20 AM

With all of the writing blogs out there, doesn’t it eventually begin to feel like everyone is just regurgitating the same advice in different phrasing? Well, you won’t have to worry about that here. Writers, I present to you:

10 Ways to Make Everything You Write Shoot Immediately to the Top of the NYT Bestsellers List and Gain Dozens of Lovers AND Have Obama Ask You to Give the Next State of the Union

10. Work naked. It frees you from doubts and inhibitions, and if you take pictures you’ll get lots of followers on Twitter. (Incidentally, follow me on Twitter!)

9. Try alternating your sentences between long, flowing, voluminous sentences that seem to roll like the spring grass on the hillside of a place so magical it could only exist in the mind, and fit in so many clauses and extra phrases that one loses sense of place and time and becomes one with the words like bathing in softly flowing rain until the letters gain their own individual meaning and impart it to you like the nectar of truth, and really short ones. It works.

8. When in doubt, make your characters start arguing violently.

7. Write only one sentence a day. Perfect that sentence. Tomorrow, move on.

6. Alternatively, write your entire novel on methamphetamines without ever stopping to eat, sleep, or pee.

5. Pay someone better than you to do it for you.

4. Don’t worry about quality. Just carry around a machete when you solicit sales.

3. If you write something that actually sounds decent, be sure to cut it out of the final draft. You’re supposed to murder your darlings, remember?

2. Whatever you’re writing, sprinkle in some monkeys. Everyone likes monkeys.

1. Do all of this simultaneously, preferably while wearing a hat that looks like this:

funny hat

This works for me. It will work for you, too. Guaranteed*.

*Lies.
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Horror and Terror

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 19, 2011 at 7:10 PM

*Disclaimer: this is the horror-genre connoisseur’s post. If you don’t like that genre, you probably shouldn’t read this. It might make you angry. It might make anyone angry, for that matter. Fair warning.

“Horror” and “terror” have always been interesting words to me. They’re often used together, so obviously they have some connection, but the fact that they are used as a duo (as opposed to interchangeably) also signifies that they have distinct meanings. Otherwise, why list both?

I’m certainly not the first person to think on this. In fact, it’s been an ongoing discussion in the literary community since gothic writer Ann Radcliffe (author of the fabulous The Mysteries of Udolpho) first brought it up almost 200 years ago. Here’s what Ms. Radcliffe had to say:

“Terror and Horror are so far opposite that the first expands the soul, and awakens the faculties to a high degree of life; the other contracts, freezes and nearly annihilates them …. And where lies the difference between horror and terror, but in the uncertainty and obscurity that accompany the first, respecting the dreading evil?”

Essentially, what I interpret Radcliffe to be saying here (and in other readings I’ve done), is that terror inspires fear while horror inspires distaste. And furthermore, that the first is sublime while the second is despicable. I’ll wait. Go ahead. Re-read that.

*gasps*

*other people wondering why there were gasps*

*someone goes back to re-read it*

*more gasps*

*confused looks*

Okay. I’ll explain. You know that slow-moving ghost story that keeps you awake at night for fear of a bodiless man standing over your bed? That’s okay. Desirable, even. That takes you to new heights of living. But you know that movie that you’d be uncomfortable watching with your mom? The one that involves eviscerating people with a pocket knife? That’s not okay. That makes you a scum bag.

Horror-genre lovers, you may gasp now.

As much as I love Radcliffe, I believe her to be a victim of her time. Thankfully, horror creators today don’t share her qualms, although at least the most notable among them seem to agree with her distinctions:

“I recognize terror as the finest emotion and so I will try to terrorize the reader. But if I find that I cannot terrify, I will try to horrify, and if I find that I cannot horrify, I’ll go for the gross-out. I’m not proud.” –Stephen King (emphasis mine)

Why, Mr. King. Perhaps you’ve tapped into something.

I agree that terror, as a horror writer, should be the priority. I.e., causing fear in the reader. But I don’t agree with why. I don’t think it’s the “finest emotion” of the two or that it “expands the soul.” I think, quite simply, that it is harder to accomplish. Any Jo Blow off the street can gross you out or sicken your morals, but only the most talented can make you look over your shoulder, make goose bumps stand out on your arms, make your neck crawl. And thus the hierarchy is based on skill, not on some philosophical idea of one emotion being finer than the other.

I’m not arguing that gross-outs are noble. I’m arguing that terror isn’t.

And while I’m at it, I might as well piss everyone off: neither is romance, love, empathy, pity, bravery, loss, or humor. Sorry guys, but I’m just not buying it. We are humans. Emotions are biological responses. One is not greater than another, just different.

So by all means, horror writers should strive for terror first, horror second, and ickies third. But not because of some mislead notion that one will get them (or their readers) to Heaven faster. Just because it’s a way of narrowing the field. The best writers can accomplish the first, the worst only the last. Go ahead, scare the crap out of me. Prove yourself.

Disagree? I love to debate. Feel free to comment.

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Valentine’s Day

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 14, 2011 at 1:15 PM

For some reason, this Valentine’s Day I wanted to write about the moment I fell in love with my husband. Turns out, I can’t do that. There wasn’t a moment. There were a thousand little microscopic moments – a joke here, a gesture there, a touch, a smile, a look – that built upon each other to create our relationship, our love. We were friends long before we were romantic, and that trust was invaluable in creating a bond that would, could, and in fact already has, weathered the darkest of storms.

But still, there is one thing in particular that stands out in my memory as some sort of shift. I can’t explain why, but I can tell you the memory.

I was about to go into my last full semester of college (which for me was year two), and I had to get my wisdom teeth removed. There was only one possible time for me to get it done, and that was less than a week before classes started. I made the appointment (back home in College Station) and had the surgery. Many people have had this procedure done, but everyone experiences it in different ways. I was one of the unfortunate people for whom it was awful.

I came home from the hospital in an anesthesia haze of misery, gauze filling my mouth like dry, cottony wounds. My dad and Kyle immediately ushered me into bed, where I laid on my back and tried to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but being the rule-follower that I am, I couldn’t let myself sleep because I was supposed to keep my jaw closed and if I relaxed it fell open. I mumbled something to this effect to Kyle, who promptly left and returned with a roll of toilet paper. He tucked it under my chin on top of my chest so I could relax and still have my jaws closed on the gauze.

Now, it must have been tempting for Kyle to laugh. I think I would have, if I hadn’t been in so much pain and all drugged up. I must have looked like an armless chipmunk desperate to hold on to a roll of TP. But Kyle didn’t laugh. He’s too sweet for that. He simply solved what needed solving, tucked me in, and let me sleep off the worst of the medicine. I will always remember him in that moment.

Us back when we were giggly little monkeys.

But for me, it only got worse from there. I ended up getting two dry-sockets, which for those of you who don’t know, means I had two gapingly exposed nerve endings. Worst physical pain I’ve ever felt. But through it all, Kyle was there. In fact, when I went back to school after missing the first week of class (dry sockets messed up my well-laid plan), my professors didn’t believe that I’d had my wisdom teeth removed. They said my cheeks weren’t swollen – everyone’s cheeks are swollen after that surgery. My cheeks weren’t swollen because Kyle woke up every four hours for three or four days straight to put fresh ice on my cheeks. How ever did I get so lucky?

I don’t love Kyle because he takes care of me when the chips are down. I don’t even love him because he’s thoughtful and considerate and kind. It’s much, much more than that. But looking back at that memory, I have to admit that it’s a piece of the puzzle. I love you, Hub-a-Dub. Happy Valentine’s Day.

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How to Put a Positive Spin on Your Worst Qualities (i.e.: How to Write a Eulogy for a Horrible Person) (i.e.: How to Beef up Your Resume)

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on January 31, 2011 at 7:20 PM

So maybe your mean old great aunt Georgia died, and you somehow got stuck with giving the ten-minute eulogy in the form of a poem. Or say you’re creating an online dating profile. Or maybe you don’t have enough positive attributes to fill out a job application. Or perhaps you just want to make yourself feel better through good old-fashioned denial. Well, my friend, you’ve come to the right place.

If you’re Say you
loud-mouthed are not afraid to speak your mind
a bitch stand up for yourself
*selfish are goal oriented
greedy appreciate the beauty in objects around you
an animal hoarder are an animal lover
abusive have a firm hand
mean are honest
a zealot have a healthy fear of god
lazy are laid-back
a smartass are snarky
indecisive consider all of your options
proud are confident
vain take care of the temple which is the body
*bossy are a natural-born leader
snooty have great taste
careless are care-free
insensitive practice tough love
*arrogant are proud of your achievements
cowardly take caution
oblivious are innocent
jealous see the good in others (and want it)
cheap are thrifty
gluttonous love fine cuisine
lustful are smoking hot
*stubborn stand firm in what you believe in
dishonest are clever
nosey take a keen interest in those around you
short-tempered are passionate
argumentative love a good debate
*introverted are thoughtful
stupid lead a simple life
*oversensitive are sensitive

So how ‘bout it, did you think of some I left out? And do you see yourself in any of these? (Now, chances are that if you’ve gotten to the end of this list and don’t recognize yourself in at least a handful of them, you’re rather oblivi—I mean innocent. Yeah. That’s the word.)

*’s equal the worst of my sins. For the sake of not *ing them all, I limited it to 6. But feel free to asterisk as many as you’d like mentally, you meanie—I mean, er… honest person.

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The 3 Best Naps of All (my) Time (so far)

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 11, 2011 at 3:55 PM

If you asked me what one thing in the world was my favorite, I would probably tell you a lie. Like maybe my husband or my cat or my friends or my family or my craft. Although close contenders, none of those would be entirely true. The real answer is sleep. I like sleep more than I like anything else on this earth. More than cuddling, more than scary movies, more than cute little owls wearing hats, even more than raspberry Hershey’s hugs piled so high they overflow the bowl. Srsly.

And I don’t know what it is about it, but I think most people would agree that naps are better than a regular night’s sleep. Although that’s good too. To quote a comedian I once heard, the first thing I think when I wake up in the morning is, “Oh my god, I can’t wait to do that again.” But there’s something special about the nap, in particular, as a form of sleep. Maybe it’s the daylight streaming in the window. Maybe it’s the forbiddeness of doing nothing for a couple of hours out of your busy day. Or maybe it’s just the novelty of sleeping on the sofa instead of in bed. Either way, naps are the bomb.

So I’ve decided to count down the 3 best naps I’ve ever had. Here we go.

3. The dark and silent luxury in the Bahamas

If you’ve ever been on a cruise ship, you know that the rooms are small and dim. The boat is rocking like a giant pair of arms soothing a baby to sleep. The sea air is warm and calming. And the blankets are hotel-thick and softer than a pile of puppies. Ideal napping conditions. When Hub-a-dub and I were on our honeymoon (a cruise to the Bahamas), we were both pretty exhausted. Right after the wedding, plus so many fabulous events and shows to go to and enjoy. Fun can be exhausting, you know.

So one day, when there weren’t any events I was particularly thrilled about, I asked Kyle if I could just stay in the room and take a nap while he went out and ate or drank or gambled or played miniature golf or whatever. I got two hours in the cabin to myself. It was pitch black, warm, heavy, and rocking like an oversized cradle. I can’t imagine that whatever Kyle did was as good for him as that nap was for me. It was pretty damn good. It’s some of the best sleep I’ve ever had.

2. The Benadryl-ridden haze in Austin

I lived by myself for a year and half in Austin while I was going to school. I had a little efficiency apartment that was totally awesome. It was so small that I got a loft bed from IKEA so I could have room for a little loveseat and a desk down below. I really liked it. What I did not like was how bad my allergies were in Austin. The time I have in mind was during the summer, and I had recently decided that getting allergy shots wasn’t worth the money and hassle. Clearly, a horrible mistake.

For the span of about a week, I ended up taking 2 Benadryl every 4 hours just to be able to breathe and keep my eyes from swelling shut. At this time, I did not know that one of the side-effects of Benadryl was drowsiness. I had to go to my summer classes. I’ve never been the type of person to fall asleep in class, but man I came close that day. I was literally nodding my head down and then jerking it up as I realized I was starting to sleep. When I got home, I crashed onto my loveseat in spite of all of my homework and things I needed to do, and fell into the deepest, heaviest sleep I’ve ever experienced. When I woke up three hours later after the drug had worn off, my notes from class were all gibberish (seriously, the writings of a madman), but hot damn, that was a good nap.

1. The snuggly 16 hour snooze-fest in Amsterdam

Hub-a-dub and I (back when he was just A-dub) went to Europe for Spring Break one year on a college tour. The flight to Amsterdam was something like 12 hours long. I can’t sleep on planes. At all. When we landed, it was morning there, and we had a whole day of fun scheduled. Jet lag much?

When we finally got to our hostel early that evening – which we were told would be a hotel – we discovered that the room for 2 we requested had bunk beads. Lol. Not quite what we were imagining for our romantic getaway. We were supposed to get ready for the factory tour and the following group dinner. We decided we would rather sneak in a little nap and just meet up for dinner. So we both wedged ourselves onto the bottom bunk, which was up against a window-unit. The heat was rattling out, and we spooned under a big comfy blanket, and when the alarm went off, it felt like we were wrapped in a little heated cocoon.

Kyle turned to me and mumbled groggily, “Wanna just sleep through?” And I rolled over and said, “Yes.” We reset our alarm for early the next morning, skipped dinner, and didn’t wake up until the sun had set and re-risen. It was intensely awesome. And plus, after that, we were the only ones on the trip who didn’t fight jetlag the whole time. Bonus.

And those are the 3 naps that rocked my world. How about you, do you have any memorable naps?

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