On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In this reading, I introduce a supporting character named Suzanne. My protagonist, Evelyn, has just moved to a boarding school (of sorts), so she is in a whole new setting with entirely new supporting characters. This is a total rewrite of a previous version that was simply not cutting it. In this version, I chose to introduce the five girls Evelyn will be living with one at a time, giving a little backstory about how they came to be at that school. I reflect on it in the video.

This is an unusual Raw Reading, because it is deeply personal.

It is also unbelievable, too much, horrible, and a perfect metaphor.

But it is all I have.

Published in Under the Sun, journal of creative nonfiction and nominated for Best American Essays.

Raw Reading

Reflection

There are two things that amaze me about this essay. First, that it is written. And second, that it is being read.

As I say in the essay itself, the story I am at last telling is one I’ve carried around inside me for over two decades. So, why now? I suppose it was time in that quasi-mystical sense we either believe in with a sort of holy reverence or a shrug, as simple as it is secular. Either way, it’s a mystery to the rational mind.

Why now? Because its time had time.

Why now? Because I finally had the ability to tell it.

And tell it I did. I held nothing back. This essay was written over a handful of mornings in front of my fire. There is nothing glamorous about my writing routine. I roll out of bed, make coffee and feed my dog, let her out and in, then sit cross-legged on my couch with a clipboard and stack of looseleaf paper on my lap. Mechanical pencil, if you were wondering. In my pajamas, of course, and fireplace weather means big, terrycloth robe weather. It took a handful of days and came to thirty-four pages, that first draft.

I wrote in that bug-eyed, barely breathing way we get when the hand is in pace with the words. Synchrony. It is utter, perfect concentration with no effort; it just is. I wrote in sections that declared themselves. After a couple of hours or so, I would breathe, blink the world into focus, and set down my pencil. Each stopping point felt like I had accomplished something meaningful.

I don’t mean the writing. I mean the remembering. Those self-defined sections, they weren’t about the literary movements of the essay, but the emotional movements of me.

When it was done, I let it lay around the coffee table for a while, a binder clip of 34 sheets of looseleaf. I got it typed up, tweaked some words, like you do. And it lay around a while longer. Until one morning, I rolled out of bed, made my coffee, fed the dog and let her out and in, and asked myself what I wanted to do with my morning writing time. The answer, more a feeling than a thought: submit the essay.

I gave it a final spit-n-polish read and sent it off. Then I forgot about it, because any writer knows these things take time. Months.

It took hours. The editor, Dr. Martha Highers, at Under the Sun, offered to publish my essay within hours. Amazed and speechless are good words. Grateful is another.

The response so far has been kind and appreciative. I’ve been asked several times if I was afraid to write this, to put it out into the world. The answer is no. Not because I felt brave, but because I did not think about what kind of response it could get or what kind I would like it to get. One morning, I followed an urge to start writing down a personal story, and another morning, I followed an urge to send it out into the world.

Of course, it might be more interesting to say I was breathless with courage when I hit send on those submissions. I do not mean to downplay the degree of vulnerability and risk in “The Stun Still Shines on the Worst Day of Your Life.” It is there. I do feel it.

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In today’s Raw Reading, my protagonist comes to a decision. How do you show the reader that a major choice, one that changes your hero’s arc and advances the plot, is being made?

Well, you do not write: Edie decided to go to Canada.

In this brief excerpt we glimpse the world Edie is going to leave behind and it’s none to shiny. Edie is exhausted, frazzled, doing her best to take care of a small child, and she had no choice but to bring said child, Sparrow, to work with her. It’s not appreciated and in the face of all that chaos and criticism, Edie hears the call: “three notes trumpeted promise, relief, a new life: Canada. Canada. Canada!”

Not only does this show the reader Edie’s decision, it reveals her feelings and what Canada or the idea of it means to her.

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In today’s Raw Reading, I share a scene in which one of my supporting characters stands in a job line. He gets into trouble with the other men in the line and the outcome is not pretty. 

My goal with this scene is to show how the continual pressure and pain of difficult times affects people. John’s behavior is questionable, maybe even dishonorable, but does he deserve to be beaten? 

Although John is the point of view character and here, and therefore the one readers are identified with, he is a supporting character. Readers may disapprove of him strongly enough to side with the other men in line, even the ones throwing punches. But John is the character they get to go home with, the one they understand. Because readers will have enough of his story to understand his desperation, they should sympathize with him, even if they don’t approve of him. 

Even scenes like this, concerned with a supporting character, need to serve the larger story. Besides glimpsing more of the world my characters inhabit, this scene will help further complicate my protagonist’s life. John has to take his bruises home, to his wife, to the house they share with others. The bruises are outward signs of his shame, not over taking a beating, and not even over the trick he tried to play, but over the failure that put him in that job line in the first place.

The thing is, the failure is not his. It is the system’s, the world’s, and it’s happening everywhere and its repercussions affect everyone.

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In this scene, Edie has had a bad-mom moment and is trying to make things right with Sparrow. They happened into a toy store and Sparrow had a tantrum over a rocking horse. The thing is, Edie’s best friend and Sparrow’s biological mother, has just died and they’re both in mourning. The reader will know this when encountering this chapter and therefore understand that the tantrum isn’t really about the horse. Edie’s reaction isn’t really about the tantrum. 

And here, when Edie, feeling terrible about everything, comes home with the rocking horse—which was a significant expense for someone just trying to make ends meet—Sparrow’s reaction isn’t what she expected. 

She puts Sparrow on the horse and here the chapter ends with the connection they both so long for being unattainable in their state of grief.

I hope that the feelings I’m aiming to convey come across to the reader, that she feels some of what these characters feel and also really feels for them in this moment of mutual longing.

The ogre on the other side of the wall? That’s Mrs. Dubrowski, of course. 

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

This scene focuses on the backstory of a supporting character.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

Sometimes writers get stuck. Even writers who don’t believe in writer’s block. Which I don’t, because creative flow is as much about process as it is inspiration. That said, I was finding scenes felt sticky, sluggish, and unsatisfying. I kept at them for a while, because that’s what the process demands some times. And when things didn’t organically begin to flow, I stepped back and looked at why.

I was trying to write scenes involving supporting characters I hadn’t developed sufficiently enough to bring to life. When a character is a one-off, someone the main characters bump into and have a brief encounter with, development can occur as I write. They need enough color and shape to be living beings. But like the people encounter once and never again, they don’t require much color and shape. Characters with recurring roles in our characters’ lives, the co-workers and neighbors, need more than color and shape. They need personality.

I had some of what makes these supporting characters tick, but not enough, it turned out. So when they came back into the current scenes, I found I wasn’t always certain what they would say or how they would behave or why. I needed to dig deeper before I could really show them on the page.

This scene reveals some of Mrs. Dubrowski’s backstory. She’s Edie’s landlady and a minor but important supporting character. I wrote this scene not caring whether it wound up in the novel or not. My purpose was purely exploratory, and I knew I needed to see her, get an actual visual sense of her, so I wrote to discover her physical size and shape. It has wound up in the novel, at least here in draft one, because what the backstory reveals about Mrs. Dubrowski will factor into her choices later, choices that absolutely affect Edie’s fate. 

Now that I know her better, have a more solid picture of her in mind, a voice, and understand something of her personal challenges in life, I’m able to write more freely. Both the scenes she’s in and the ones she isn’t in. Mrs. Dubrowski is part of Edie’s world; not understanding that part made the whole world a little sluggish. Since stepping back from Edie to focus on my supporting characters, the writing is flowing better. 

And that is a big relief.

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

Today, a supporting character, Mrs. Dubrowski, takes care of our protagonist.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

This story is told in the omniscient point of view, which means I get to share anything and everything with the reader I want. Of course, while it is the author’s prerogative what to share when and how many heads to enter, it must be done judiciously. If the elements introduced into the story are not significant, they don’t have a place. I do enjoy writing in the omniscient for both of those reasons, the fun of exploring any perspective I like and the challenge of keeping it meaningful at all times.

In this scene, one of the supporting characters takes the POV reins. Mrs. Dubrowski, the protagonist’s landlady, gets to take care of Edie after a tragedy occurs. Part of the reasoning for entering her point of view is that Edie is in a stupor. When a character is simply numb and empty, there is not much to be done or shown through that perspective. We might as well fade to black. Another reason is that Mrs. Dubrowski shows herself in a new light. Neither the other characters nor the readers know much about her history. This scene reveals something of interest. And the care she gives Edie now sets up a choice Edie makes later, a significant one to the rest of the plot. If I had faded to black, this set up that motivates Edie later would be off the page or only revealed in hearsay through Edie’s perspective. 

That would be fine. It is a limitation of a single point of view narrative and a good one. Narrative limits can fuel creativity and shape a tightly woven story.

But, for now, I am omniscient and enjoying every moment of it! 

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

In this emotionally tough scene, Alida uses unique specific detail to capture an emotion.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

To bring an intense moment like this to life, it’s critical to make it unique to the perspective of the point of view character and also unique within the story. Edie has worked as a seamstress, so she knows clothing and textiles. She also understands how clothing makes the man, or how clothing is an indicator of class. Nowhere else in the story does Edie have a close encounter with a pair of men’s trousers.

As Edie crouches over a body on the floor of a diner, this stranger’s freshly shined black Oxfords flash before her. She notices not only the shoes, but his trouser legs, down to the turned cuff. The man is wearing a youthful style of the era, something Edie would know and notice. The culmination of these details adds insult to injury when he jumps over the body, instead of skirting it with everyone else. 

While drafting this scene, I did not think to myself, “I need a unique specific detail to bring this moment to life.” And I did not plan for the man to jump across the body before it happened.  

When writing, the author has to be in two places at once. I have to be in Edie’s perspective in the moment. And I have to be in the narrator’s perspective, aware of the setting and action around the character. The blending of those two perspectives is what makes a scene like that come together, allowing for the fullness of the moment to birth the unique specific detail that will (hopefully) stick with the reader long after the story is over. 

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

In this light-hearted moment, a boy picks up a girl in a diner.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In today’s Raw Reading, I share a scene in which one of my main characters, Lacey, meets a would-be suitor. This is a first encounter at a lunch counter, and Jake makes his move.

Story comes down to feelings. What can I make the reader feel for and along with my character? How can I convey those emotions in words on a page? Even the simplest scene with the most straightforward action should make the reader feel something. 

In this scene, I want to convey the attraction these two feel for each other. Jake has been watching Lacey work, he’s attracted to her, but it’s more than physical. He sees her spark. We know this from his dialogue. He tells her she has happy eyes.

Lacey moves away from him and takes a moment to think about that. She knows what he means, so it creates a connection between them that goes deeper than physical appeal. That pause in the action for her interior reflection is natural. It fits the scene, because she’s working. She goes away from Jake to serve other customers. It’s simple, but it works, because it blends the reflection with the ongoing physical action of the scene. And her attraction to him is now apparent.

I want the reader to feel buoyant. That moment of first attraction is fun, exciting, full of possibility. When I read this scene, I am happy for Lacey, because Jake sees something special in her, which is always promising. And in a story set in the Great Depression, we need some light moments, some hope for the characters’ future.

On today’s Raw Reading, Alida Winternheimer reads from her current work-in-progress, working title, Playing with the Wind.

In a moment of playful relief, Alida’s characters reveal themselves to the reader and each other.

Playing with the Wind is a historical novel set in 1920s and 1930s Minnesota. After watching the video clip, read the author’s reflections on this particular text.

Raw Reading

Reflection

In today’s Raw Reading, I share a scene in which my characters are going out for a drive along Lake Superior. Even in excerpt form, without knowing the characters or the circumstances surrounding them, I hope the mood is apparent and that the reader discovers people through their characterization.

These characters have been under duress for a long time and it has recently worsened. They’re all due for a break, so they splurge and take a Sunday drive to a picnic spot outside of town.

You might not glean this from the excerpt, but it’s the early 1930s. The old Ford is probably a Model T, bought in the 1920s when times were better. The stress is clearly economic, since they’re in the Great Depression. Burning the gas it takes to go on a drive up the lakeshore is a big deal, and this is a real escape for them all. Hence the release that comes as they leave their troubles behind.

This release is characterized by the sing-along. I chose “Tea for Two,” because it’s appropriate to the era, popular enough everyone would know it, and it’s very singable. Who can’t join in at the refrain? Even today. And it’s upbeat, characterizing the mood I want to convey to readers. 

Hopefully, I also convey a lot about these people in this very brief scene. Sarah leads the song. A person who breaks into song, a cappella, has some optimism, is not shy, and is willing and able to let go of her troubles and bring the others along.

Her husband, John, is her opposite, less optimistic, less willing to let go. He uses handling the car as an excuse to avoid joining in or joining in enthusiastically. Why does anyone care about a car? Cars are status symbols. He also might be thinking about the cost of a repair or needing to sell it soon, both of which are forms of worry, limiting his fun in the moment. 

Mrs. Dubrowski is their landlady. She would not be along if the others had a choice in the matter. She surprises them all first by singing and second by singing well. This reveals something of Mrs. Dubrowski’s hidden depths and her relationship with her younger tenants. 

Characterization is built in small moments like these. Readers best understand the people populating a story not through what they are told in narrative descriptions or via dialogue, but by discovering these people through moments that live on the page. 

This is a first draft. To what extent these words will need revision later remains to be seen. All material herein is copyrighted. © Alida Winternheimer 2021