Why I Like the November Postcard Swap

It’s November! Every November for the last… hmm…more than fifteen years, I’ve taken part in National Novel Writing Month. I’ve started November with an idea, and attempted to write a 50,000 word rough draft of a story before December 1st. Sometimes I’ve even succeeded.

The NaNoWriMo website is no more, sadly. I signed up for the Novel November website sponsored by Pro Writing Aid, but I don’t like their dashboard or much else about their version. But none of this is really relevant to my post, which is about swapping postcards with other writers who are also writing in November. I have participated in that swap for… I really don’t know, but I’m sure it’s been at least five years.

Why do I like swapping postcards with other writers? Getting a postcard in the mail is like getting a little surprise package. There’s a picture on one side, and a message on the other, and no knowing what either will be like. I’ve gotten antique postcards, travel postcards, art postcards. I’ve gotten a postcard of people lounging aboard a ship, a postcard of paths diverging in a park, and a postcard of a cat riding a unicorn.

A sample of postcards I’ve received

And then there’s the message. There isn’t much space on a postcard. Since we’re all writing madly, or hoping to, there’s usually something about writing. I find I’m very curious about other people’s writing projects. So many ideas, so much potential. Sometimes there’s something about why they chose that year’s story idea, which is also fascinating.

Often we send each other encouragement. “Just keep putting down words! The ideas will come.” Maybe we’re both writing mysteries, or fantasy YA, or something middle-grade. When I can, I like to choose my postcards based on whatever the writer said about their project in their sign-up info, hoping that the card may be extra inspiring that way.

Another thing I enjoy about postcards, strange as it sounds, is seeing people’s actual handwriting. How do they write–big or small, cursive or print, in colored ink or plain black? It reminds me that there’s a real person at the other end of the swap, who sat down to write me this message. Sometimes people add stickers, or washi tape, for extra decoration.

And finally, people who sign up to write postcards are always so nice in their postcards! It makes me feel good about humanity when I receive one.

And so, if you are swapping postcards with me this year, thank you! I hope you enjoy your card.

Till next post.

NaNoWriMo 2024–YA fantasy without assassins or deadly competition??

It’s almost that time of year!

Every November, I sign up for the National Novel Writing Month. Usually I start a new project. (Past experience has shown that NaNoWriMo is not a good way for me to do rewrites.)

It’s always exciting thinking of something new to work on. Actually, that’s probably the most fun part of it all–thinking up the idea and not yet having to write it. For this year, I’ve decided to try a YA fantasy. I’ve read some recently and not so recently, and it’s interesting how many female assassins there are, and how deadly the obstacles the heroines (assassin or not) face. I’ve enjoyed a lot of the books I’ve read, but as usual, it makes me want to put a different twist on things.

What if our young heroine is trying to join a group dedicated to peace and nonviolence? What sort of obstacles will she encounter? Who would the villains be? And can she still pair up/bond with some nifty magical creature who will somehow extend her powers and also surprise everyone in doing so?

Welcome to the Citadel of Truth and Order!

(For some reason, I keep wanting to say “Truth and Honor,” but that wouldn’t work as well for my story. So this is very much a provisional title.)

I really don’t know whether this premise is going to get traction, but I’m looking forward to giving it a shot. Six more days to go!

Till next post.

P.S. Some of the books I am thinking of are the following: Graceling, Divergent, A Throne of Glass, Fourth Wing, A Deadly Education, Death Sworn, Grave Mercy.

Murder (in) Mysteries–revisited

Long ago (or so it feels) I discussed writing a mystery without a murder in it (Writing a Mystery Without Murder In My Heart). I said, at that time, that while I loved reading murder mysteries and watching them on television, somehow writing a murder felt different.

Later on, however, I made further attempts at writing a murder mystery, and eventually wrote Alibis and Aspidistras, a cozy (murder) mystery. Trying to work out the details of the fictional killing still feels awkward, but as long I don’t have to make the death too realistic, I can write it and enjoy it.

Why am I bringing this up again? Recently I had the opportunity to be interviewed by Meredith Rankin for her Substack on crime fiction. ( “Meet Author Samantha Cornwell” –I really should have posted this link last week–my bad.) One of the things that interests her is people’s attitudes toward writing and thinking about murder, as she discusses in a different post “My so-called obsession with murder”, and I found myself thinking hard about this question again.

I’ve heard it suggested that the reason mysteries usually involve a murder is because murder presents higher stakes than any other crime, and that probably is part of the reason. Still, the importance of any particular stakes in a novel depends a lot on the context–in a novel set in a college, plagiarism could loom large. In fact, almost all motives for fictional murders feel like high stakes to the villain–that’s why they’re willing to kill someone.

To have a mystery, though, there must be questions. Who did it? Why? How? Some crimes allow for this–who stole the ruby? How did they get it out of the house unseen?–while other crimes don’t offer much mystery once the crime is recognized. If a published article turns out to be plagiarized, we probably know who and how, though perhaps not why.

What about true crimes? I don’t normally read that, but in reading a book about poisons, I did read several accounts of deliberate poisonings. It was interesting in a sobering kind of way, a way that reminds me what people are capable of. I am sometimes too inclined to assume that people are basically okay, and shocked when something reminds me of how dark people’s actions can really be. Meredith makes the point (in the second post I listed) that thinking about crimes can make us more aware of how we might be vulnerable.

I wonder if I can make use of that–the idea that a story can make us more aware of our vulnerabilities–in my next story. What would I particularly like to warn someone about? Writing is all about gathering ideas and finding interesting ways to incorporate them. Thank you for that thought, Meredith.

Till next post.