Oh the Places You'll Go...Part 2

In this post, I promised secrets contained in the pages of my latest complete novel, The Night Caller. Mind you, none of these are Earth-shattering or subject to a confessional, but they do reflect just how much of ourselves writers put in their stories.

Burger Boy
Though I changed the official name from Big Boy to Burger Boy in my story, the shellacked behemoth statue rising up out of the suburban landscape plays an important role in my main character's backstory. Of all the restaurants I went to as a child, this one left the grandest impression. Maybe it was the juxtaposition between the tropical, plant-filled, sky-lighted, decidedly non-diner interior and the fashion-challenged creepy boy out front that seemed to laugh at passersby and say, "I dare you to eat one of these and not get my gut!" Poor Burger Boy is destroyed in my story, along with Thousand Island dressing perfection.

The Talbot Building
Not satisfied to merely know it was possible for someone to graduate from Boston University's School of Medicine in 1881, I set out to find the exact street its building was located on and the names of a few graduates from that class who went on to become Boston doctors. Here is a sketch as it existed then. The classrooms would have been in the left building, the hospital on the corner. Satisfied? I wasn't either. How can I recreate a scene there with only a sketch? A little further digging produced this photograph. The Talbot building still stands today and houses the School of Public Health. Now that I can sink my imagination into.

The Sacred Scene
The Night Caller contains a scene toward the end that makes me cry, without fail, every time I revisit it. It happened when I wrote it and three of the five times I've come upon it for revisions. I was superstitious to change anything for fear the magic spell would be broken, so I passed over it completely the last two times I edited. I hope readers feel the same.

Love Scene Hypnosis
Some of you might remember my post on self-hypnosis. The setting of The Night Caller's final love scene was taken directly from those research tapes I listened to in high school and never forgot (the setting-not the luuuuve--geez, people). Evidence of the powerful and enduring effect of hypnosis on the mind.

I could write a hundred instances in this book alone: foil-wrapped chocolate bars I sold to neighbors, the Georgetown train depot I stood in when I was eight, the hard rock Evan listens to, the names Henry and Hank, the gas station on a Sunday morning. How can the person I've been not be everywhere, in all those places that pour out onto the page? I suspect even science fiction writers who weave their own worlds still manage to inject the places within into their stories. It is at once frightening and exhilarating to know we've exposed so much and offered up almost everything to reach that moment of connection to a reader.

Tomorrow: I believe in celebrations. Why wait until a book is sold when we have almost no control over the alignment of the planets? BYO favorite drink (or drink recipe) and we'll usher in the weekend with a cybertoast.

The "Writer's Eye"

I'm finishing up the second article in my Deep Prose series, this time tackling description and imagery. Stephen King has some amazing quotes on imagery, several of which are in the article, but one stood out to me in particular:

"Open your inner eye as wide as it will go and trust the reader will do the same."

This "inner eye" he's referring to I call the "writer's eye". It's the quasi-self-hypnotic state where the writer sees--really sees--what's happening in a scene before pen touches paper or fingertips fly across keys. It's the deep breathing, close your eyes, sit back in your chair kind of meditation that puzzles our families when they walk in the room and assume we're screwing off.

In high school, I did a research paper on self-hypnosis that's helped me more than just about any paper I can remember in college. When I have a bad headache or I'm caught without pain killers, I close my eyes and visualize the pain. The texture. Subtle changes in the color. How the shape changes and morphs with each passing second. The idea is simple. Focus so completely on something--this creative painting of pain--and you trick your mind into forgetting about the pain. Sound crazy? Try it next time--say a full five quiet minutes. It works.

Self-hypnosis used as a relaxation technique can also help writers access their "mind's eye". Using these techniques, the walls dissolve and your mind is fully transported to the place of the image you're creating. Sounds like writing, doesn't it? Two techniques:

1) Imagine you're alone in a large building on the tenth floor. The temperature on your skin is just right. Stretched out before you is an escalator, humming quietly. Beneath your toes, cool, slick marble that offsets the warm sunlight spilling over you from the ceiling atrium above. The walls are textured. A vibrant, red number "10" inside a large white circle is painted on the wall to indicate the floor. A potted fescue near the revolving banister tickles your knee. Did you see the ornate iron bench behind you? What about the black smudge on the pristine floor from someone who walked here before? Now, step onto the down escalator. It's moving at a comfortable speed. As you descend you see another lobby laid out in much the same way, this time with an orange number "9" painted on the wall. Is there another bench? How has the light changed on your shoulders? Step onto the next escalator and breeze downward to floor "8", each time noting how warm, abrasive textures and colors and details change to cool and relaxing. Maybe some of the floors have murals, each with an increasingly peaceful scene. This is your world. Paint it how you wish as you progress to the first floor. What's on that first floor, you ask? Your "writer's eye". The next scene of your story. Deep sleep (this works SO much better than counting sheep). This exercise should take about ten minutes to allow time to properly slow your heart rate, so spend some time on each floor.

2) Some people refer to the next exercise as your "happy place". This is no joke. You construct in your mind the most relaxing, peaceful place you can imagine. For some, it's in a lush forest near a waterfall pool. For some, it's a wide open, green meadow. Set rules. For me, there cannot be bugs (CPs--no laughing). The last thing I want is to be sitting near an enchanting waterfall and have a waterbug crawl over my fingertips. Rule number one: like the previous one, you must be alone. This is not the time for Oded Fehr to show you his rapture. Like a photographer capturing this place only you know about, for ten minutes enhance the image with details. The next time you return, the parameters will be set and relaxation will be easier to access. And in this place, you'll find your "mind's eye".

A few more tips about self-hypnosis: Make sure you're in a place you cannot be interrupted. We're doing deep relaxation and slowing the heartrate, so your husband walking in to ask you, "Where's the mustard?" could cause a bad start--for you (and him) :) It's important to know you're as alone in your physical environment as you are in your spiritual one. Also, no music. You don't want your mind to become dependant on hearing certain sounds to become relaxed. You want to be able to do these exercises anywhere, anytime.

Doesn't finding your "writer's eye" take longer to get a scene written? You bet. But the payoff is a deeper, richer environment for your character to play out his emotions and goals in.

Oh, and until then, check out Stephen King's article. It's as amazing as his prose.

Try one of these self-hypnosis techniques. Post here and let me know how it works for you.