#WriterInMotion

[erikarois]

Writer in Motion Week 5: Wrapping up

#WriterinMotion #Week5: Wrapping up Writer in Motion was a chance to workshop with writers of many levels and backgrounds. This is my wrap up post.

Updates:

*Life has quieted down a lot. Like silent. *Next week I have the appointment that had me so upset. *School started, and we’re getting back into a routine. The oldest, a freshman, starts at 7:20 am and the youngest, in seventh grade, at 8:10. That’ll be fun when they start physical school again (sarcasm font). To be honest, I love having them home. I know it sucks for many families, and…

[anonymousafterthoughts]

Writer In Motion |CP Round Two

Week Four: Feedback & Reflection

It’s week four of #WriterInMotion and, as usual, I’m fluttering about like a hummingbird with no head trying to do everything at once. Over the weekend, we moved into our very first house, and I’ve been editing Five Glass Flowersin the bathtub, crouched on the worn, wooden floors, and in between scrubbing out the cupboards in the kitchen. So it’s taken me quite…

[the-love-fantasy-stuff-blog]

Thank you @aesthetic.hj for making this beautiful entry with my poem.💕 . . . Gratitude to you all for reading my #poems and #quotes by #thelovefantasy.Go to the link in bio to order the book.💗 . . . @khizra.zaheer . . #bibliophile #becauseofreading #instabooks #currentread #inkedthoughts #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #herheartpoetry #relatablepoetry #youinme #artjournaling #artspeaks #writersnetwork #writerinmotion #baresoul #bookhoarder #bookstagrammer #booksbooksbooks #bookish #beautiful #igpoet #vsco #khizrapoems #khizrazaheer Regrann from @aesthetic.hj - @khizra.zaheer ✨ - #regrann

[wordsofrablack]

BIRB - Self-edit and CP Edit

#WIM self-edit and CP edited version of BIRB. #WriterInMotion

The changes were fairly minimal on both parts, so I’m posting the combined version. My CP suggested making the end a little clearer to show he wasn’t on the boat yet, and I tidied up some word choice to remove repetition and make things clearer. Six months and it was over. The boat – or was it a ship? Jake would know – bobbed on the waves, still a few miles out. The clues were all there, from…

[authormarialberg]

#WriterInMotion ~ Final Thoughts

#WriterInMotion ~ Final Thoughts

I entered the Writer-In-Motion Challenge hoping to get some big break-through information from a professional editor. I wanted that sword that would cut down rejection and get me to YES!

Truth is, I got more than that. I got, “Wow, Maria, the voice in this is amazing!”

Voice. That magical, unteachable thing. That how do I get it, thing!

And then I got– Now take out a lot of it. You have to…

[anonymousafterthoughts]

This week has been PACKED with edits for Five Glass Flowers and navigating round one of the Feedback Phase of #WriterInMotion.  First off, I was BLESSED to be paired with Jeff and Sara as Critique Partners for this round. They’re both writing Science Fiction as well and are familiar with some of the genre-specific elements I brought to my story.  So a massive THANK YOU to both of them for their invaluable insight, suggestions, and, of course, for trusting me with their work as well.

Market & Genre: Science Fiction, Literary lean, Dystopian

Word Count: 1,210

Loose Comparisons & Inspirations: Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer, Orange by Ichigo Takano, and Inception.

Trigger Warning: Five Glass Flowers is set in a world with assisted suicide and touches on mental health. This isn’t fleshed out entirely at the moment, but it’s pretty obvious in this draft. The completed version will also allude to a light rail bombing (so, warn future you maybe) but this isn’t touched on yet.

I read the feedback side-by-side and made lists based on areas of concern: 1) what did both CPs like? 2) What was unclear to them? 3) Did the haunted, dystopian vibes come through? 4) Was everything balanced?

Most of the suggestions were minor–a need for clarity here, an awkward sentence there–but the real joy was seeing how they interacted with and processed the content. It’s been a LONG TIME since I’ve written any sort of science fiction, so I was concerned it didn’t fit enough within the genre or that the story, given its literary lean, might be confusing in some way. However, Jeff and Sara both swept those worries out the door! I love how Jeff came across the title of this chapter (The Janus Project) and did his own little research about it. I’d deliberately picked JANUS because it’s the name of the Roman God of doorways, time, transitions, and endings. I enjoy embedding meaning everywhere, and was tickled when Jeff picked up on this right away.

I also appreciated his attention to detail, such as pointing out the awkwardness of Asra’s position in the opening line or prodding me to elaborate on how the tally on the hologlass was discreet. His style of critiquing is similar to mine: stream of consciousness, reader reaction, and the occasional quill stab for needed edits (only I think he’s nicer at that than me LOL).  Both Jeff and Sara has similar suggestions, which indicated certain things SANG and a few things SUNK, but I liked the consistency in feedback. For example, there’s a line where the narrator points out that priets “don’t usually help someone die” and both CPs countered that, technically, one could argue they DID. So I adjusted the sentence to flat out say suicide so that a line is drawn between guiding one to their natural death versus allowing something a priest wouldn’t normally condone.

Sara’s style was a little more sparse and less reader reaction, but her insight was so helpful to catching potential world-holes and unclear exposition. For example, I’d never explained the whole reason behind Asra having THREE Caseworkers during her year of mandatory therapy. At the time, I wondered if that kind of info was even needed and left it out because I didn’t want to drag the story down with too much setting/backstory. However, Sara’s feedback revealed how unclear that section of the scene was and the kinds of questions it raised. I really appreciated her attention to details like this, especially since I have a tendency to be either painfully vague or vomit details everywhere. Her feedback gave me an idea of where to balance hints and reveals. She was also great at catching some of those little typos that like to sneak in!

My biggest concern was the atmosphere. I was shooting for haunting, mysterious, and poignant. I didn’t want the disturbing aspects of the world to overshadow the inescapable strangeness colliding with Asra Aeilstrom’s life. I worked to deepen her own backstory (settling on a traumatic subway bombing) about where her affliction came from. The first two versions were too vague in doing this, I think. The atmosphere was there, but the characterization…wasn’t. So I guess that was, more or less, my second big concern. Sara and Jeff expressed wanting to know more about Oblivion and why Asra is seeking it, so I think, to an extent, I’ve achieved building her character, but will need to also add her backstory in throughout the next few revisions. Here’s the overall feedback received:

1.

The Janus Project

The causes of death on the state-issued certificates gently floated along the tinted hologlass walls. Asra stared up at them with permanent conviction, dark sunglasses lessening the glare of light:

Xu Heng, 32, Inconsolable sorrow after absorbing displaced emotions.

Torin Thallos, 17, An uncontrollable desire to be full.

Lucho Gálvez, 23, The belief that nothing–including oneself–exists.

Ella Walsh, 47, A longing for things that cannot be named.

Lorne Thale, 50, Fell Hopelessly In Love With Annihilation.

Ian Ito, 38, Hysterical fear of drowning in air.

Every forty seconds, the certificates flickered out of existence, new ones appeared, and this cycle repeated. A discreet tally sat in the bottom right corner of the glass, where the day’s successful journeys to Oblivion tick, tick, ticked like a 24-hour clock: 66, 000. 70,200. 82,350. 93,800. The clock never seemed to stop, even after it reset to zero.

“It’s a painless, peaceful process.”

The office door hissed open and the Caseworker shuffled in. He gave Asra a reassuring smile, gray eyes shining with plastic empathy through crooked frames.

“Are they all…have they chosen to…” Die.

Asra tore her gaze away from the hologlass, and settled it on the pamphlet in front of her. She’d read it countless times in her year of therapy after she made her decision.  It was a requirement to know all the available options, even if one couldn’t afford them. Or, in her case, want them. If she closed her eyes, she could recite the entire pamphlet word-for-word, and yet, she couldn’t even recall–

“They chose Oblivion.”

As if rehearsed to a habit, the Caseworker reached out to console her with a light squeeze of a gloved hand. This, too, Asra was familiar with; she’d had three Caseworkers before this—completely normal for those of her particular situation—but they all behaved the same: a pitying smile here, a kind hand there, voice never above what was considered appropriate for a funeral. Asra slipped her hands off the table and into her lap, trying not to look at the slash of scars across her fingers. The Caseworker said nothing as he pulled up her chart and settled into his seat. A clinical silence hung between them.

Somewhere down the hall, whimpering began. A tea kettle whistled. A cheerful voice called for the head psychiatrist over the speakers. Caseworkers walked down the halls as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did. The smell of something sterile clung to air. Fingers tapped against a tablet. The hologlass tick, tick, ticked with new certificates. Shifting in her chair—one of those hard, plastic ones bolted to the floor—Asra tried not to interact with her surrounds, to listen too closely, but restlessness prevailed.

Once again, her eyes scoured the room one last time: the glass box of an office (or counseling room, depending on who you asked), walls of frosted hologlass and floors of snowy quartz. Everything was bleached with the brightness of the UV lights overhead. Absently, she pushed the darkened shades she wore up the bridge of her nose and pulled the hood of her jacket over her forehead. The offices were always kept at a constant 59 degrees. She’d never thought to ask why.

At last, her gaze settled on the man across the desk. Like all Oblivion Caseworkers, or OCs as everyone generally called them, he wore the standard lapis lazuli tunic that covered him from neck to ankles. An inverted triangular insignia sat snug against his Adam’s apple, shifting every time he swallowed, which wasn’t often. The name tag on his chest said Julian, and she wondered, doubted, whether that was even his real name. The OCs all looked freakishly similar, almost like priests.

 Except priests didn’t usually help people commit suicide.

Asra cleared her throat. It was a harsh sound in the manufactured silence of the office. Those silver scars on her hands seemed to gleam in the lighting. “How long will it take?”

“Less than the time you’ve been suffering.” Julian’s smile grew softer, more pitiful. “The Janus Project prides itself on providing only the most compassionate state-issued Oblivion in the country. It will only take as long as you need it to. You’ll be transported to the doorway at –” he checked the location on his tablet “–the Howlan House. It’s as close to the site of the accident we can get you. Everything you need is already there, including the funeral materials, and alternative pathways, should you want them.”

           “I don’t.”

“It’s there if you do.”

“There’s no point to it.”

The words broke the air as a hoarse whisper. She pulled the cuffs of her sweater over her hands, blinking furiously as spots clouded her vision. Alternative pathways, she wanted to scoff. As if she were a candidate for Transplant or Reboot. Asra waited for anxiety to wash over her, as the pamphlets had warned, but none came. She searched herself for pangs of regret or second thoughts, but as always, she felt nothing. Even as she touched the tablet the Caseworker slid across the table, she could sense neither the warmth of where his hands had been nor the coldness of the glass. Not even the weight of it registered. She caught an unfocused glimpse of her cheerless pale face and muted green eyes on the screen, though she couldn’t be sure it was her face anymore; it was diluted with their images–a jagged collage of features that belonged to other versions of herself living in alternate worlds. Other versions she had, unfortunately, collided with that harrowing day.

            And since then, she felt nothing of herself.

            Sensed nothing of this world.

            Remembered nothing of her life.

Nothing except November the 20th, but she didn’t want the memory.

“Given your…. situation…. we want you to be as comfortable as possible. When you’re ready for Oblivion, it will embrace you. You will find peace, Asra.” He sounded so sure, she had no choice, but to believe him. The Caseworker indicated to the tinted walls and nodded at the tablet. “Shall we announce it?”

She pulled the tablet closer and froze, a hollowness burrowing deep into her chest. Her thumb brushed the photo of a house in a twilight-kissed field, the black shadows of mountains hovering in the distance. She wondered if she would have once found it beautiful, the fireflies drifting up like falling stars caught in reverse, or what the breeze caressing the patches of weeds would have felt like. She couldn’t see the suspended railway of the old Muika train line over the water, but she knew it was there.

“It’s as close as we could get you to the Fragmentation Zone.”

A memory skipped across Asra’s mind–a kaleidoscope of twisted metal, the snap of bones against water, putrid smoke–before it faded back into the shoebox she’d buried it in.  She blinked, waiting for a voice of reason to echo, to say live, live, live. But nothing came. Nothing but a wetness sliding over her chilled cheeks, dropping in time with the relentless tick, tick, ticks of the walls, and onto the glass tomb housing her death certificate:

Asra Aeilstrom, 26, Fractured, Irreparable feeling of being out of place & time.

Five Glass Flowers Playlist

Writer In Motion | Round One of CP Revisions This week has been PACKED with edits for Five Glass Flowers and navigating round one of the Feedback Phase of #WriterInMotion. 

[anonymousafterthoughts]

Writer In Motion: The Final Draft

Take a look how editor @JeniChappelle's amazing edits shaped the final draft of SAUDADE, my #WriterInMotion project.

Well, lovely readers, Writer In Motion has officially come to an end. After six weeks of writing, self-editing, gaining feedback, and sending it along to an editor, I can officially call this the craziest — and most amazing — project I’ve ever participated in. Despite what the title claims, I wouldn’t call this a final draft. Not for this project, anyways, but this is the most polished version of…

[anonymousafterthoughts]

Writer In Motion: How My CPs Shaped the Third Draft

It's week 5 of #WriterInMotion & I finally have a title! Here's draft 3 of SAUDADE, a #ya #magicalrealism inspired by Gris & Pinocchio. A bazillion thanks to CPs @Fushiee_ & @belindagrant80 for amazing feedback! Future thanks to editor @jenichappelle 💜

Welcome back, lovely readers! It’s week 5 of the Writer In Motion project, and boy did I have major edits to make. This week was all about critique partner feedback and applying it to the third draft of our project. This phase in the editing process is hard for me; it means trusting others to be honest and constructive. It’s difficult for me to hand my brain baby over to a stranger to be poked…

[anonymousafterthoughts]

Writer In Motion | The First Draft

Here it is, folks. The first draft of my #WriterInMotion project. It's a magical realism inspired by Gris & Pinocchio. #writingcommunity #MG #writerslife #magicalrealism

This is it, folks. It’s messy. It’s not fleshed out. It’s a piece of my heart splayed on the writing table. Anyone else feel as though writing can be a dissection sometimes? No? Just me? This is a veryrough draft of a magical realism story about a doll-come-to-life. She’s stranded on a semi-abandoned island where the strangest of strange things take place, and is desperate to find her creator…

[the-love-fantasy-stuff-blog]

Dreaming to do 💕 . . . Thank you all for reading my #poems and #quotes by #thelovefantasy. My book is avilable now worldwide having the all the beautiful facets of inspiration, love, loss and survival in it. Go to the link in bio to order the book.📚✌📚 . . . . . . #bibliophile #becauseofreading #instabooks #currentread #inkedthoughts #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #igpoet #youinme #fantasy #writingcommunity #artspeaks #writersnetwork #writerinmotion #tbr #bookhoarder #bookstagrammer #booksbooksbooks #bookish #igbtpoetry #vsco #khizrapoems #khizrazaheer

[the-love-fantasy-stuff-blog]

Simple yet beautiful 💕 . . . Thank you all for reading my #poems and #quotes by #thelovefantasy. My book is avilable now worldwide having the all the beautiful facets of inspiration, love, loss and survival in it. Go to the link in bio to order the book.💗 . . . . . . #bibliophile #becauseofreading #instabooks #currentread #inkedthoughts #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #igpoet #youinme #fantasy #patience #artspeaks #writersnetwork #writerinmotion #tbr #bookhoarder #bookstagrammer #booksbooksbooks #bookish #beautiful #vsco #khizrapoems #khizrazaheer

[wordsofrablack]

BIRB - #WriterInMotion

My first #WriterInMotion post. You can see the prompt image here: https://writerinmotion.com @writermotion #WIM

My entry for the 2022 Writer in Motion. See the prompt here: https://writerinmotion.com This is a first draft and I’ll post the revised versions week by week. Six months and it was over. The boat – or was it a ship? Jake would know – bobbed on the waves, still a few miles out. He should have known, should have guessed from the growing ice that sparkled on the dark blue water. A few more weeks…

[authormarialberg]

#WriterInMotion : The final draft

#WriterInMotion : The final draft

This week I received feedback from professional editor Jeni Chappelle of Jeni Chappelle Editorial. Jeni is the co-creator of this challenge as well as #RevPit on Twitter. I want to thank her for her time, encouragement and suggestions.

Here it is. The final draft!

The Bear’s Breeches Smell Slightly Sweet As They Rot

I had never seen a man’s face change so fast. He stepped through the door,…

[authormarialberg]

#WriterInMotion: Critique Partners' Feedback Revision

#WriterInMotion: Critique Partners’ Feedback Revision

This week was exciting. I sent my story to two people and received their stories to critique. Based on their feedback I made revisions, creating this new draft of my story that will now go to a professional editor.

Before talking about the changes, I want to thank Neta of NetaQBlog and Nicole of The Usual Bookspects for the time and consideration they put into critiquing my story.

Because I had…

[authormarialberg]

#WriterinMotion: The Second Draft

#WriterinMotion: The Second Draft

                                                                                                                   photo by Maria L. Berg 2020

The Bear’s Breeches Smell Slightly Sweet As They Rot

I never saw a man’s face change so fast. He stepped through the door, blocking our view, still laughing with his son. Then he saw me.

“You,” he said, then door.

“Who is it, Daddy?” from inside.

“That…

[authormarialberg]

#WriterinMotion Week Two: revision plan

#WriterinMotion Week Two: revision plan

For once, I overwrote. I have a story that needs to be told in less than half as many words, so I thought I’d spend a little time and create a plan for this first revision.

This Week’s Revision Plan First steps:

print out the story

read aloud

highlight best lines/parts

cross out parts I don’t like

ask questions to get to the core of the story

write logline/ elevator pitch/ summary

increase…