As a writer, I am frequently asked, “What books most influenced your writing?”  I have my stock answers — Lord of the Rings, Katherine Kurtz’s Deryni books, a bunch of other old favorites.  But last week, I heard a segment on NPR that completely threw me for a loop, because it made me recognize a huge influence on my writing, one that I’d never consciously thought of before.

Pippin.

The musical (music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz; choreography by Bob Fosse).  About the son of Charlemagne, sort of.  About the quest for the meaning of life, sort of.  About sex, drugs, and rock and roll, sort of.

I first saw Pippin in the late seventies.  I was visiting my grandmother in Los Angeles, and she had tickets for a production at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.  For reasons long lost in the mists of time, my grandmother didn’t go to the show; instead, she sent my cousin and me.

I remember being absolutely, 100% enchanted by the performance.  And I remember being somewhat embarrassed by the show — there were scenes about men and women (and men and men and women and women) who were sexually interested in each other.  There was rather suggestive dancing.  There were somewhat revealing costumes.  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to Grandma when she asked what I thought of the performance.

But, in my heart, I loved it.  I loved the lyrics.  I loved the music.  I loved the costumes and the staging and the laugh lines and the sheer energy of the entire thing.  And most of all, I loved the message — all about what it takes to be free and committed and independent and bound and, and, and.

I can probably sing every single word of the musical, by heart.  I used to use the soundtrack as one of my writing pieces, because I knew it so well that it didn’t disrupt my creativity.

But it wasn’t until last week, it wasn’t until I was listening to the NPR segment — about the current revival in New York — that I realized something I’d never consciously thought about.  Pippin is about a person who goes on a quest.  And while he’s searching for the meaning of his life, he comes across a troupe of traveling actors.  He becomes one of them, only to find that his future does not lie with them.

And when I heard that, when I thought about that, I realized that I’ve told that story over, and over, and over again.  Rani Trader finds her Players.  Keara finds her Travelers.  Even the As You Wish Series is about women finding their true selves against the backdrop of contemporary theaters.

I love the otherness of acting, the ability to literally and figuratively don masks.  But I never realized just how deep that love was, just how early I learned to tell that story…

(Incidentally, the revival of Pippin sounds ***amazing***, with circus performers interspersed with the acting company.  ::eyes New York with longing::)

So?  How about you?  Ever had a deep epiphany about what you write or what you read?  Care to share it?

Reposting, because you’re very busy, and you might have forgotten…  (But Lea, Alethea, and I have not forgotten you!  We can’t wait to see you!)

* * *

You!  Yes, you!

What are you doing this coming SUNDAY, April 28?  At 3:30 p.m.?  In Arlington, Virginia, at One More Page Books, 2200 N Westmoreland Street #101 Arlington, VA 22213?

You’re coming to visit me, aren’t you?  And to see Lea Nolan, too.  And Alethea Kontis.  Because we’re going to be talking about middle grade fiction, especially fantasy!  We’d all love to see you, and your friends, too.  So, what are you waiting for?  Add this visit to your calendar and stop by on Saturday!  (And if you can’t make it to the store, but you want a signed, personalized copy of any of our books, just call the store and let them know.)

Mindy, looking forward to seeing lots of friends!

You!  Yes, you!

What are you doing this coming SUNDAY, April 28?  At 3:30 p.m.?  In Arlington, Virginia, at One More Page Books, 2200 N Westmoreland Street #101 Arlington, VA 22213?

You’re coming to visit me, aren’t you?  And to see Lea Nolan, too.  And Alethea Kontis.  Because we’re going to be talking about middle grade fiction, especially fantasy!  We’d all love to see you, and your friends, too.  So, what are you waiting for?  Add this visit to your calendar and stop by on Saturday!  (And if you can’t make it to the store, but you want a signed, personalized copy of any of our books, just call the store and let them know.)

Mindy, looking forward to seeing lots of friends!

(Edited to correct the day!)

Often, I’m asked about my favorite books.  I usually answer by saying that The Lord of the Rings has been the most influential book in my life, because it made me want to write a sequel, which led to my first finished novel, which led to my first published novel, which led to my current daily life.

But when I was in middle school, I very well might have answered, “Anything by E.L. Konigsburg”.  Her Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth remains one of my very favorite books — and there’s a touch of Jane Madison lurking amid all those names.  And From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler was probably the first time I fell in love with a museum.  And with Michelangelo.  So, it only made sense that I learned about Leonardo da Vinci from The Second Mrs. Giaconda.  And I actually wanted to be reincarnated as Eleanor of Aquitaine after I read A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver.

Along with books by Zilpha Keatley Snyder and Ruth M. Arthur, the stories of E.L. Konigsburg were some of the very first that sparked my imagination, that taught me about secret worlds where I could explore very far away from the suburban streets of North Dallas.  (And I’m a bit astonished to realize that virtually all of Konigsburg’s books are set in the real world — historic world sometimes, but not in made-up secondary venues.  I’m surprised because those books carried a sense of wonder, a vision of different-ness, that flavors my speculative fiction today.)

E.L. Konigsburg died over the weekend, at the age of 83.  She’ll live on, though, on my bookshelves, and on the shelves of every kid I buy books for in the future.

Off to re-read some favorites…

Because auto-posts post, and I need something to distract me from Boston, I’m up at Magical Words today, with a post about the problem of the Elf in the Kitchen.  Yeah.  If you read it, you’ll understand what I mean.  As always, comments are preferred at MW, but I’m happy to hear what you have to say here, too!

http://www.magicalwords.net/mindy-klasky/the-elf-in-the-kitchen/

Magical Words is a website by writers for writers (and readers who want a behind-the-scenes peak at the process of writing.)  Regular posters include David B. Coe, John G. Hartness, Faith Hunter, Misty Massey, and Kalayna Price, with regular guest posts from Lucienne Diver, Diana Pharaoh Francis, C.E. Murphy, and Carrie Ryan.  Stop by and let me know what you think about characters’ names, in my work or elsewhere!

I have the theme from The Six Million Dollar Man running through my head (and now, I suspect, you do too…)

A few weeks ago, I attended a writing workshop let by a Big Name Author.  In the past, I had heard many positive things about the BNA and his workshop, but I have to admit, I was *very* disappointed in the actual presentation.  I thought that the BNA was very … slippery — when asked for specific advice about specific aspects of the professional writing life, his answer was almost always, “I don’t know what works.”  Alas, the entire weekend came off as a promotional pitch for his professional editorial and publishing services, and I came home feeling cheated.

BUT (and that’s a huge qualifier!), I did come away with one substantial piece of advice that I felt truly applied to me:  I need to work harder.  I need to put in many more hours, and I need those hours to be vastly more productive.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m already a pretty good worker.  I set deadlines and (mostly) I meet them.  When they’re deadlines for outside people (like an agent or an editor), I always meet them.  I put my butt in my chair and my hands on my keyboard every working day, and I generate or edit words.  I’ve sold those words, too — both in traditional publishing and in self-publishing.  2012 was my most successful year for traditional publishing (financially speaking), and I made more than that amount of money in self-publishing.

But that’s not enough.

Traditional publishing is failing, not-so-slowly, but oh-so-surely.  I still believe the model can be good for authors — an advance’s certain money is nothing to be sneered at.  But that money is harder and harder to come by.

Self-publishing is growing by leaps and bounds.  There is still a vast amount of potential out there — in U.S. markets and abroad.  But self-publishing is an entirely separate career.  I’ve heard lots of people say this, but I’ve never really absorbed it — you need to design your books, edit them, publish them.  To me, that’s actually the easy stuff — I outsource what doesn’t come to me naturally.  But to self-publish, you also have to generate content — lots of it, and on a predictable, increasing schedule.  You also need to network, with as many interested people as possible.

It’s actually that last bit that’s making me stumble.  I’ve recently become a member of an incredible new group (more about that later), which has inspired me in many professional ways.  I’m seeing more energy and enthusiasm from a few dozen writers than I’ve seen in years.  But that input comes with a cost — more than 200 emails a day.  (Most aren’t vital, but some, oh, some are…  Getting the email in digest forms seems very dangerous at this point.)

And another group I’ve been a member of for months has shown similar explosive email growth — another 100 emails a day.  And another group, and another…  And there are still groups I want to join, places where I can teach and learn, organizations where I can grow.

I need to be more involved; I need to work more.  But there are only so many hours in a day.  And so I arrive at my new organizational plan:  Alternate Day Writing.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I’m an author.  I write words.  I edit them.  I’m a hermit who presents to the world as a writing machine.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’m a publisher.  And a household manager.  And a social person.  I’m only scheduling coffee breaks, lunches with friends, grocery store runs, errands at the bank, post office, you-name-it on Thursdays.

I’ve only been doing this for two weeks, and I had company for four of those days and a cold for four more.  But I think I’m onto something here…  Let’s see how it works.

And you?  Any organizational tips and tricks that you live by?

Every year, I feel like spring hasn’t begun until I see these:

Japanese Magnolia Blossoms

And a lot of years, the blossoms freeze and turn to ugly brown sludge.  But not this year!

Everyone is now in town to see these (at least until rain and heat wash and wither them away):

Tidal Basin Cherry Blossoms

But my favorite blossoms won’t be out for another couple of weeks:

Double Blossom Cherry Trees

The double blossoms come a bit later and last somewhat longer.  I’d be happy if they stayed around all year.  (I say that, but I suspect even I would get tired of them eventually.)

In any case — happy spring!

Earlier this week, the very wise Jim Hines wrote some incredibly-even-wiser-than-usual words about his writing career.  Specifically, he tore apart the old canard:  “Choose a job you love, and you will never work a day in your life.”  Here’s Jim’s post.  Go ahead and read it, I’ll still be here.

In many ways, I’m “living the dream” even more than Jim is.  Okay, I don’t have fans making cool visual art based on my books (at least not that they’ve shared with me yet).  And I’m not Guest of Honor at great cons (again, not yet ).  And I don’t have thousands of unique readers reading and commenting on my every post.

But I do have the opportunity to write full time.  I don’t have to juggle a day job.  And I *know* what a gift that is — I’m a long way from the author who set her alarm for 4:30, to wake up, have time to write, then get to the law firm office for a full day of being a litigation pit bull.

I am grateful for my current flexibility.  I treasure the time I have to write, the way I get to set my schedule, the way I can control my life.  I rejoice every day that I don’t have to commute, don’t have to answer to an immediate supervisor who may or may not understand what I’m doing, don’t have to sit in on routine meetings that bore me to tears.

And yet, I *do* work.  And over the past few months, I’ve slipped into some bad habits for working.  When I ran into some plot snarls in Jane 4, I let myself spin for far too long.

I’ve figured out those snarls now, though.  And I have some new “office rules” (dividing up my work in new ways to be more efficient.)  I’m testing those new methods now — I’ll write about them more as the system settles down.

In the meantime, I have to remember that I’m lucky.  I have a great job.  It *is* a job, though, and I have to treat it as one.  Any other boss would require me to do so; I can’t ask less of myself.  (Thanks, Jim, for helping me to clarify some of these ideas!)

And, just because I can’t walk away from distractions 100%, forever, I have a question for you:  What is your dream job?

(I think mine might be “marine biologist, with a focus on marine mammals”, but I would have needed to completely restructure my education, so I’ll never know.  There’s also “neurologist, with a focus on dream generation”, but I have the same caveat…)

Earlier this week, I trudged to my mailbox.  There, amid the catalogs for clothes I don’t need and the flyers for food I don’t want to eat was a white Tyvek envelope, bearing my name and address.  Inside the white envelope was a manila envelope.  And inside the manila envelope was a *huge* sheet of paper, with a lovely message from Mrs. Lese’s third grade class, thanking me for helping them to celebrate their “Reader Leader” goal of 100,000 minutes of reading from all class members, combined, since the start of the school year.  (Earlier this year, I attended their Reader Leader party, sharing bookmarks and postcards from DARKBEAST, and talking about my career as a writer.)

Every student signed the letter, and they used *cursive*!  (And here, I’d just been reading this past weekend that no one was learning cursive any more!)

The thank you note made my day.  I’m really looking forward to making more author visits when DARKBEAST REBELLION comes out in September!

This past weekend, we went to this year’s final session of What Makes It Great, a program where music educator Rob Kapilow dissects a specific piece of music.  This class was on Schumann’s Piano Quintet.  The first half of the class involves Kapilow going through the piece in detail, explaining the steps that Schumann took to develop a unique composition, focusing on composition, dynamics, etc.  The explanation is illustrated by students from Curtis, who play snippets as necessary — sometimes as Schumann wrote it, sometimes as Kapilow revised (to demonstrate various points).  After a brief intermission, the quintet performs the piece straight through.  The evening wraps up with a short Q&A session.

We’ve gone to more than a dozen of these classes (a different musical composition and different performers in each one), and I learn a lot each time.  Alas, the learning is relatively short-lived — I don’t know a lot about music theory, and I don’t have a good memory for the specific facts of each lesson.  (After this class, I compared the situation to watching baseball — after a game, I certainly know who won and lost, and I remember the major plays, but I don’t remember the structure — precisely when each reliever came in, which pitch sequence he used to get the batter out, etc.)

The Schumann class was interesting musically, but I was most taken with the interaction of the performers.  As a quintet, they performed without any conductor, trading off who had the lead (sometimes, phrase by phrase).  During the classroom portion of the evening this actually resulted in a minor flub — the pianist and the first violinist weren’t able to play one phrase together (but they got it on the second pass).

Apparently, Kapilow does a lot of consulting with corporations, where he discusses leading from within and group success without designated leadership.  I enjoyed watching the concrete example of the quintet.  And now, I’m thinking about how this applies to my writing.  Not so much the structure of my day-to-day professional career.  Rather, the way it fits into SINGLE WITCH’S SURVIVAL GUIDE.  In that book, Jane Madison has created a school for witches.  I’m sure it won’t surprise any of you that things don’t go all that smoothly.  A lot of the book is about Jane learning how to be a leader.

I think I might buy the quintet, to listen to as I work through the rest of this novel!

So.  Anyone else have examples of leaderless groups succeeding at relatively complex tasks?