galadrielwatson

May 23, 2015

Back to My Roots: Non-fiction for Children

For the first time in a while, I’m tackling a non-fiction project that doesn’t have to do with my day job or any of my community volunteer roles. While I’ve got a host under my belt (22 non-fiction books and over 40 magazine articles for children), it’s been a while since I wrote my last one.

So far, the current project is no more than a pitch for an article in a children’s magazine. And yet even coming up with the pitch was fun.

It feels good to get the creative juices flowing in that direction again. It reminds me how I love taking complex ideas and boiling them down into lively, interesting, understandable facts. Too often my day job (corporate communications) requires me to keep the facts dry.

I’m also moving in a relatively new (for me) direction with this pitch: narrative non-fiction. I’m proposing presenting the material in a way that combines fiction with non-fiction. While I’ve done fictional introductions in my past non-fiction work, this article would weave the storytelling throughout.

So let’s cross our fingers and hope my pitch fits into the magazine’s editorial plan. If not, it has still reminded me of what I love and will propel me to find similar opportunities in the near future.

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About the Author

Posted by Galadriel

Hi, I’m Galadriel: blogger, author, reader and resident of a quaint small town in the breathtaking West Kootenay region of southeastern British Columbia. You can also find me on Twitter and Facebook.

May 20, 2015

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Rocking the Page

A couple of weeks ago, my town hosted the biggest writing festival I have ever seen here. In other words, five authors came and gave readings at our quaint little theatre.

The authors were in town as part of a school district project. Since winter, these writers—from poets to children’s nonfiction authors—have been helping local students grow their writing skills. The in-person evening was the culmination of the project, during which both the professionals and select students read their works to an audience mostly comprised of parents.

The main thrust of the evening was poetry. During some poems I laughed, during others I spaced out. Some were captivating, others were cryptic. The children’s poems were as entertaining as the adults’. It was an enjoyable evening and I’d love to see more like it.

It also highlighted to me how writing is such a hidden activity. Other than a couple of acquaintances in the audience, likely no one there knew I’m a writer too. As residents of a small town, they probably know my face, may know where I work, may know I’m a parent. But if they’re not at least Facebook friends with me, they won’t know I’m a writer.

Unlike these authors, I don’t have recent works I can talk about or display for sale on a table. Although I’ve published tons in the past, my current focus on novels has been a long, solitary haul, with nothing physical produced from it yet.

If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one to hear it, does it still make a sound? If I write but no one reads it, am I still a writer?

Of course I know the answer is yes. I have no doubt I’m a writer; other than the everyday tasks of life, all I do is write. Being a writer isn’t about publication—it’s about process.

Maybe the next time the school district is looking for writers, I’ll get a chance to offer my services.

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About the Author

Posted by Galadriel

May 16, 2015

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First Draft Done—But Nowhere Near the End

The first draft is done! I have slapped over 66,000 words into my computer’s hard drive—and when I say slapped, I mean slapped. This is a complex story and the first draft was a brain dump. I don’t kid myself that this novel is anywhere near finished.

This is the fourth time I’ve completed a novel’s first draft. For my first two, I considered the first draft a nearly done manuscript. A few touch-ups and voilà: ready for publication. (And it almost worked out that way; I signed on with an agent for the first novel, but she was unfortunately not able to find it a publisher. The second novel I have disagreed with and placed aside.)

My third novel was different. I wrote a draft, modified it while working with a mentor through Humber College’s Creative Writing by Correspondence program, then modified it again while working with my agent. The first draft was one of many, many drafts (and I expect more once a publisher signs on)—and was possibly the simplest draft of all. Rewriting until you can find little else to rewrite is much more challenging, I find, than getting the initial ideas out of your head.

So although I feel accomplished to have this latest first draft done, I know the hardest work still lies ahead. I wasn’t thorough; there are gaps. I’m not satisfied; there are bits I’d like to alter. In fact, I’ve already thought of new ideas that will radically revise the work. (Couldn’t I be happy with the way it stands? Why voluntarily add pressure?)

For maybe a week or two, I’ll give myself time to breathe. And then I’ll reread the entire thing. And then I’ll dive in again. And then I’ll wonder why I’m bound to a creative outlet that’s so gosh-darn hard—but keep plugging away at it anyway.

How do you feel when you get to the end of a first draft?

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