Friday, August 23, 2013

From Fourth to Fifth

My fifth draft of Tsirash is finally done.

While I was somewhat downhearted that my fourth draft was so easily cut down (especially near the beginning), I also realized that I wasn't happy with it, either. It needed something. I just wasn't sure what that was until after I'd already started sending out queries. So I opened up a new document, made a list, and started over. And it took a lot longer than I thought it would. I set my goal for a month, thought three months, ended up with over a year's worth of work.

I was afraid that it just wasn't good enough. "No one wants to read this," I'd think. "Well, I do, but I've read so little that I'm not qualified to write it." My husband knows this, because I'd ask him at least twice a day, "You like my book, right? You like my characters?" Of course, the answer was always yes, but it didn't do much to make me feel better. "He's married to me--he's obligated to like it," I thought.

At this time, my job was literally hurting me. I was emotionally and physically drained at the end of each day. All I wanted to do was eat junk food and play video games when I got home. It made writing really difficult. My ever-supportive husband told me I could quit if I wanted to, because he was finally making enough money to pay for stuff. So I took his offer. I quit, promising myself that I'd do productive things every day, lose weight, and write like it was my career. 

It's like living in a dream, to actually have the freedom to sit and write as long as I want. It's such a great opportunity, and I'm grateful for every minute of it. I mean, I still have bad days and problems... but I finished my book. It had taken over a year to get barely 25,000 words in. It's now over 70,000 words and it's finished.

I've been told many times that "writers don't make money, so keep your day job," the odds of getting published are slim, and that "you should do something productive with your time, like going back to school." Those things used to bother me. Now they just make me all the more determined to prove that I can do this. That's because I love my characters, I love my story, and I want to share it with the world.

I finally feel like it's good enough.

-Rachel

Monday, August 5, 2013

The Piano in Fiction

My mother started teaching me to play the piano when I was five years old. I loved it so much that by the time I reached third grade, I was composing my own pieces and submitting them in competitions. I made it all the way to state level once. I learned to play the organ for my church, and got to the point where I could sight-read any hymn. I played for school choirs many times. I even accompanied a piece on live television. 

So when I tell you I'm pretty good at playing the piano, that's where I'm coming from. I'm no professional--I could never practice for more than an hour or two a day, and I'm by no means perfect at the songs I play. Sometimes I'm asked to play a piece and have to bluff my way through it because I only have a week to practice--and did I mention there's no piano at my apartment? But I'm pretty darn good at it, and have some knowledge for writers out there.

1. There is a proper way to play. Tips of the fingers on the keys, fingers curled, wrists up. A lot of kids play with their shoulders slumped and their wrists down, so they're often reminded not to do that. It's okay to lean in, to drive more power into it, but slouching will make your back ache after about half an hour. There are some examples of awesomeness who break the rules, though, like Ben Folds, who often plays standing up.

2. Most adults can reach an octave or a little over one. Rachmaninoff, I am told, had a ridiculously huge reach, like 12 white keys instead of 8. I can stretch to 10 if I really have to, with my left hand. Right hand, not so much. Also, the right hand usually plays melody, so being left-handed can be a challenge when you're supposed to bring out the melody and your stronger hand is naturally on accompaniment.

3. Know what the words "arpeggio" (broken chord), "forte" (written as f, it means loud), "piano" (written as p, it means soft), "scale" (a string of ascending and descending notes), and "octave" (interval between say, C4 and C5) mean, so you don't fall into the mistake of using them improperly. 

4. The notes go from A to G and then start over. b stands for flat,  and # stands for sharp. Also note that Cb is actually a B, B# is C, Fb is E, and E# is actually an F. So unless the sheet music would use those two because of  weird keys and accidentals that exist solely to confuse us (I swear, it happens) don't say, "She played E sharp." You'll avoid snickers from the musicians.

5. Do NOT do what Twilight did, because it was obvious that somebody did not understand what constitutes impressive piano skills. Debussy wrote some fun and beautiful pieces, but Clair de Lune is not hard to learn. If Edward were really a hundred-year-old musician who wanted to impress, he'd at least choose something like Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# minor, which requires all ten fingers and speed coupled with pianissimo delicacy. That piece also includes a lot of accidentals, so it's mighty hard to read the sheet music.

6. You have this thing called muscle memory. When you've repeated a motion often enough, your body remembers how to do it even if your mind isn't paying very good attention. It's what helps you type the right words on the computer so quickly. It's also the reason I can daydream in the middle of a song and still play the piece well. It also works the other way around--my mind sometimes gets in the way if I suddenly stop daydreaming, and suddenly I can't play it anymore. My fingers know where they're at, but my mind has no clue.

7. In real life, there is one question I am constantly asked which drives me insane. "Can you play Fur Elise?" Does this happen because people like that song, or just because it's the only classical piece they know? Either way, it makes me crazy because one, it's ridiculously easy; I can play it by ear. Two, I hate that song; it's so clunky and loopy and gross. So don't ask. I will prolly sigh and roll my eyes at you. I won't be offended if you ask for that other song everyone knows, though. Ya know, Clair de Lune. The one I just told you was not impressive. Why? Because, as I also said, it's fun and beautiful.

Well, I hope this is at least somewhat useful. Feel free to comment or contact me if you have any other questions. Happy writing!

-Tsirachel