Award!

Thank you so much Debbie for this award! <3
Be sure to visit her here at here blog, Bookworm Bites Back! :) 


Now for the rules:


1. Give to a blogger with less than 200 followers
2. That blogger will pass it on to 5 followers
3. According to Babelfish (and I can comfirm this), Liebster means Dearest.


These are some wonderful blogs that I enjoy reading! Made by some wonderful writers! :)
In no particular order:


1. Kerry's blog at Kerryschafer.com  (Not sure how many followers she has but she deserves it!)
2. MyThoughtsOnLife
3. My big brother at Gabelafastoe
4. M.R. Jordan over at Mr-Jordan


And sorry that's all! Can't think of a fifth at the moment and need to hurry off to Amsterdam! You'll be hearing less from me this week because it's Midterm week!

*runs to the train*

Keep writing!

Xx Noortje 

 

Some Thoughts on Writing

A few days ago I realized something important about writing. Several things actually.

First of all, writing; it needs to come naturally.  No that doesn’t mean that you can only write when the stars align and the muses are singing behind you and there’s an angel of inspiration of your shoulder. But it does mean that if you try and it doesn’t work—now’s not the time.

Second, your story doesn’t need to be planned … but you need a plan. If not for the first draft then for the rewrites. Trust me if you don’t have a clear idea of your story and where it is heading at least in the editing stage—then your story isn’t going to make much sense. Write down the key moments of your story—the “big” things. Then see if it makes sense, if it flows and if it’s interesting enough (and not like this blog post which is basically just a quick jotted down version of my own thoughts – edit).

There is almost NEVER time for writing. You have got to make time. As you might know, the last couple of week’s I’ve been doing this nanowrimo imitation with some friends on twitter called insanonano. Write 50.000 words in one month. So far it looks like none of us is going to make it (I’m not 100% certain though. I might be surprised). Let’s just say I’m not going to make it. Why? Well as we say on twitter “life gets in the way”.

And that’s alright. Sometimes you need to make time for your friends or family. Sometimes you have to put aside writing to study or go visit your grandparents. Or you just feel too tired and need a nice long evening doing absolutely nothing.

But still we are writers. And writing is what some of us are born to do and most of us love and inspire to do. That means you need to make some time, even though you’d much rather go to the movies or read a book.

A friend told me that’s it all about regularity. That you need to get a schedule and get used to writing at least 5 days a week. Set some goals. Strife to write a certain amount of time or a certain amount of words. Make it become a habit of writing every day. You’ll start to crave for it.

And last but not least—writing should be fun. Don’t let publishers, agents, marketing and a possible audience get in your way. Don’t let the big chance of failure stand in your way. Focus on the writing and have fun. You can always decide to worry about all that other stuff later.

In the words of Confucius “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje

Writing with Haircuts

This morning I was reminded of something I had read in Write to be Published  by Nicola Morgan  I had waited at the hair dressers for fifteen minutes (even though I had an appointment), had my hair washed for nearly as long (WHY? It was clean when I got in!) and then had to wait some more before a seat opened up.

The hairdresser had finally come to cut my hair and I was subjected to the horrible but socially demanded small talk. I never seem to have anything in common with my hairdressers and they never seem to understand what I’m talking about. Usually after about ten minutes of small talk we spend the rest of the time in awkward silence while I can see her looks of “you’re weird” in the mirror.

Which is sort of true and besides the point.

What reminded me of Morgan‘s book was when I told the hairdresser I wanted to be a writer after I finished my studies (I didn’t bother to explain that I already was a writer, didn’t need to finish my studies to be published and did, in fact, strive to be published). After she exclaimed how great that was she asked a question I always dread: “So what is your story about?”

I haltingly and awkwardly told me some of the basic plot lines without giving to much away and lamely ended in the “…but it’s kinda hard to explain like this” excuse. (To my defense my story is in English and I had to say all this in Dutch. Had not prepared for that).

This resulted in some funny looks, a disappointed “Oh” and the observation that I probably found it very easy to write my thoughts down on paper. I agreed (wondering why she asked) and she nodded and said “It’s probably easier for you to write your thoughts down than to say it like this right?”

…. She’s good.

Sufficient to say the rest of my haircut was very awkward, even more so when she asked if I had published anything yet, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The point of this deliciously embarrassing story is something that Morgan calls a hook. As she says in her book (which you HAVE to read. Seriously. Buy it. Now!) “A hook is a way of describing your book in a concise and enticing way.”

It has to persuade people that your book is awesome and worth buying/reading. And it has to be short. Like one maybe two sentences short.

It’s not only handy to know if your story is working (if you can’t think of a hook at all, maybe there is something wrong with your plot. Maybe there is no plot) and handy in getting an agent/publisher. But it is incredibly handy in avoiding embarrassing and horrifying events like the one I had this morning with my hairdresser.

I had read this book by and by and did think about a hook for a while, but when faces with the task of quickly translating it within Dutch, I was lost.

My lesson in this is to create a Dutch version of my hook and learn it by heart. And rewrite my first hook to begin with. I felt the need to explain more to her, like my original hook wasn’t enough because I could see she wasn’t “wowed” by what I was saying.

Do you have a hook for your story? Do you think you need one?
Leave it in a comment below! J

We were celebrating my dad’s (60 yesterday) and brother’s (22 tomorrow!) birthdays today! And for the record, everybody loved my new haircut (and they thought short-ish hair looked really good on me, when I had just decided to let it grow long again… sigh…).

I hope that everyone is happily writing away at their stories! My #insanonano update: ca. 23.000 words at this moment. Should have around 30.000 by now…. O.o…. If you want to know more please follow me on twitter! @Lordkiwii

With that said I am going back to my writing!

If you still haven’t had enough of my ramblings here’s an interview I did recently with writer M.R. Jordan on her blog: http://www.mr-jordan.net/2/post/2012/03/noortje-de-graaff.html

Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje 

Memories on a Train

 The most astonishing thing happened to me today. I took the train to Amsterdam to meet with a friend for a study session. What happened that morning was quite thought provocative as well and I might talk about it later. But what I am still thinking about now is what happened a few hours ago:

I was sitting at the station, on my way home, waiting for my train to come. I sat down on one of the few benches next to this old couple. At first I hardly noticed them and only listened with half an ear as they talked about the trains and they complained about something. (I'm not sure what but complaints at a train station aren't uncommon). 


They seemed ordinary to me. I didn't wonder what they had been doing or where they were going. I didn't wander anything. Somehow, to a lot of people, older men and women don't really seem to count anymore. By the time I had boarded the train and sat a few chairs away from them, they no longer existed in my mind as I focused on some poems due this week. 


But this woman, whose daughter and her friends were reading their Anne Frank books (having just been to the house in A'dam) started a conversation with the couple, after they had asked about the children's unusual reading choice (they were pretty young). 


I didn't really listen at first until I realized what they were talking about.

The couple was telling the mother about the Netherlands and the war. About all they remembered from the time after the war and what their parents had told them. Even the few fleeting memories they had as small children.  They patiently answered all the questions the girls had about that time and Anna Frank (which they both knew a lot about somehow). 


They started talking about themselves some more and their lives--making me completely abandon my poems. I listened to them intensely, amazed by what I heard.


The old man was relating--with great longing and fondness in his voice--about how he and his wife used to travel. He had gone to Indonesia because he got a good job offer there and his wife had gone with. 


While in Indonesia he and his wife longed to travel more. He laughingly told the mother that their first biggest travel was Thailand (refusing to count Indonesia because it was for work). From then on they travelled all over the world: China, Malaysia, North-America, Mexico, Egypt, all around Europe, and many more countries. 


He explained how most of the times they just took their bags with them everywhere. Most mornings they had no idea where they would sleep at night. They talked about seeing the Incan temples and how they could get close and even climb up to the top. He sighed explaining that now you couldn't get as close anymore. 


I marveled as I heard them both express how much they would love to see those countries again and travel to others such as Japan. They still wished to see more. 


The old man started talking about a museum he had visited in Mexico City. He sounded incredibly exited as he recalled how it was one of the most amazing museums he had ever been too. And how they would tell stories about the artifacts and cultures, so gripping, that he could almost see it for himself, almost believed he was there to see it.


They made notes every day on every journal and still read them together sometimes to remember. The man said "Because it's still there. You just have to remember." The notes help them relive their adventures.


Before they got up to leave at their stop, the woman smiled and exclaimed "You have really lived your lives... Isn't that wonderful?"


... And then to imagine that I sat next them at the station, without giving them a second thought at all.


I'm not sure if this post is making sense, but I just couldn't stop thinking about what I had learned about these people who I'll probably never see again. And how I realized that somehow I always seem to forget that old people were young ones. Still dream and have many amazing memories and have had incredible experiences.


And I wanted to remind you all that inspiration can come from anywhere. I could write a book about this couple. Or add them as characters in my novel. Or write about a girl overhearing them talk about their travels and deciding to go off on her own adventures. Or.... you get the point.


Hope you are all alright and that the muses have smiled upon your writing :) (excuse the cheesiness it is very late)


Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje 

Feel Good and Write

There is nothing worse than wanting to write, but finding that you are unable to. Whether because of work, school, family visits or that pile of dishes that really, really should be getting cleaned by now; it happens. 


So here is what I have been doing with myself the last couple of days: 


There seems to be periods in the year where everyone is ill or under the weather at some point and you just know you'll get it too, dreading the moment. Because it will strike and it will be at  the most inconvenient time possible.


As you might have read in my last post: I'm ill. Still. This is turning out to be one of those horrible illnesses that just drag on and on. Even worse because I'm fit enough not to lie in bed all day but feel horrible enough not to do anything of importance.

Sufficient to say I've watched a lot of movies this week. In fact here are my four favorites of the (waaaaaay too) many that I watched, in no particular order:


1. Eat Pray Love -- Yes I've seen it before and yes I'm a sucker for these kinds of movies. I love feel good travel to another country movies, especially if it involves writing/writers in any way. Which brings me to:


2. Under the Tuscan Sun -- which I've literally just finished five minutes ago. And I LOVED it. Very much the same feel good vibe of EPL and it is awakening that ever present urge in me to just quit everything, pack a bag and go see the world (which grows with every passing day that the weather gets warmer. It's bad). 


3. Finding Forrester -- Just loved to see how the kid struggled with his writing and how everything worked out. Amazing movie! At one point Jamal had to write anything just at that moment, and he couldn't do it. I got so frustrated (along with William in the movie) that I wrote a page myself.


4. Home for the Holidays -- an oldie but I had never seen it before and LOVED it. 


There were many more I assure you--all good--but I won't bore you further :) 


There is some actual news on the writing front! Together with a few friends on Twitter I've foolishly, bravely and madly started something which Kerry Schafer (www.kerryschafer.com)  delightfully called #insanonano .... because ... you know... it's insane


Basically we're doing the same thing as NaNoWriMo every November but now from 21 Feb till 21 March. So far I've got 7153 words.

Even though it's crazy and hard work--I love these kinds of things. I love how it "forces" you to write and I love the encouragement from my friends on twitter and the sense of community of knowing that no matter how mad it drives you, that you're not alone. 


For anyone interested in our progress please follow me on twitter (@Lordkiwii), I would love to hear from you! 


What I wrote at the beginning is my frustration at wanting to write but feeling to drained and tired to actually do it. Which, as I'm beginning to realize, is utter nonsense of course because I'm writing all this to you now.

Who's been stalling as well, telling themselves they couldn't write? Go! Stop reading and write right now! 


...


Still here? That's alright. I hope you're all doing well and manage to escape from this horrible flu season and write lots and lots. Or at least a few words which you really enjoyed writing. 


Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje 


ps. Sorry for the gigantic white lines. There not here when I type and can't seem to get rid of them :') 

Never Stop Dreaming

Last night I had one of the most inspiring flu induced dreams in a long time. It made me wake up with an incredibly happy and nervous feeling at the pit of my stomach and I swear, the minute I opened my eyes I was wide awake (which for me, is very special). I wanted to jump out of bed and run towards my laptop, enthusiastically diving into what was sure to be a very successful and fulfilling project—my novel.

Unfortunately there were two things stopping me from writing:

1, I had the flu and 2, I had a massive pile of homework waiting for me. And being ill is no excuse to my teachers.

What was this wonderful dream? I dreamed I was getting published. I know all of us share this dream and most of us have probably spend some wonderful hours at night believing we already had the succes we so desperately crave—only to wake up and find you're still working on that horrible third draft. 

But this dream was different. It was so vivid ... so real ... (again I had the flu) and for a moment I believed it was true. Not that I woke up and believed my books were in the hands of many eager readers, but the idea was completely true. The prospect of getting an agent and success was there, I just had to wait patiently and it would come to me.

And I realized that believing is what we really need. Of course you need stamina and a story idea and talent might be helpful as well. But if you don't believe in your story, don't believe you'll get it published, then how can you make someone else believe? Like the publisher for instance? 

What I'm trying to say is, we all get our doubts. So if you're stuck or feeling down... just close your eyes. Do it right now, right after you've read this post. Just let everything go for the moment. Ignore everything around you and imagine the phone ringing. You pick it up and it's Mrs. Agent telling you that she loved the manuscript you sent so much that she simply had to call right away. In fact she has taken the liberty to discuss it with her good friend at *insert awesome big publishing company* and they loved it!

Just believe it! Dream it! Live it! For a moment let everything be true and wonderful! 

I hope this post is making at least some sense (flu... and general silliness on my part) and I hope that none of you have given up on your dreams. Stick with them and you might be pleasantly surprised :) 

I promise you my next update will be less cheesy! I'm off to bed now and hopefully will dream more good dreams!

Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje  

Freedom of the Sea

There is nothing quite like the freedom of the open sea. 
At least that's what my father told me last night with the sad apologetic smile that he had been wearing for days. 
This morning it didn't feel real. When we climbed into the carriage it didn't feel real, when we road down the familiar streets it certainly felt far away and even now; my hands gripping the railing so tight that I can see my knuckles turning white, it still feels like I'm dreaming. A horrible frightfully fantastic dream.
One of the crew members shouts something and father gently squeezes my shoulder, whispering "this is it."
It felt strange standing above water. The creaking floorboards of the ship suddenly didn't seem like enough protection against what lies below. 
A strong wind rustles my skirts and I close my eyes, clutching onto the wooden frame for dear life itself.
'Look at it, sweetheart!' father urges. 
For a moment I resisted. If I didn't see myself leave, I wouldn't really be gone. But the rocking of the ship underneath me is making me feel nauseated, so I gingerly open one eye and then the next. 
There was Amsterdam in all its glory. My country, the city I had grown up in. I knew every street by heart, yet looking at it now from the sea, I felt like I had never really seen it. 
It felt sad but oddly liberating to leave the world behind for open water. And although I fear the open waters, fear not knowing what lies ahead, I could now clearly see what father had meant. 
The chance of a fresh start. The frightful freedom of the sea. 

This is the result of a 10 minute creative writing assignment I had this morning in my grammar class. A professor of theater came into our class to talk about an exchange with Australia (where she teaches) and asked if we would write a short scene of what it would feel like to leave on a boat or arrive on a boat ca 18th century. Her drama class will use this and the pieces of my classmates to help them understand the emotion behind leaving/arriving. 


Hope you like it any critisism/feedback is greatly appreciated! 


Keep Writing!

Xx Noortje