The Writing Process

Another Fine Conference

Janet Fisher

Just back from a great writers conference in Seattle put on by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association (PNWA). Here I am on the last day with Pam Binder, PNWA President and program director of this annual event. Every year she puts together another fabulous conference with her excellent team.

Pam Binder, PNWA President, conference program director, on the left, me on the right.

When I went downstairs looking for an I-was-there photo to add to my comments on the 2025 conference I was hoping I might find Pam to get her picture, and there she was at the registration desk, happy to oblige. I also wanted to thank her one more time for coming to my rescue in the pitch session.

These conferences offer a chance for authors to meet agents and editors face to face and pitch their projects to them. It’s always upbeat at these PNWA conferences, everybody encouraging each other to do their best. I think that atmosphere starts at the top. An award-winning New York Times bestselling author, Pam knows the business, and she’s always ready to help an author reach the next level.

Bohonagh Stone Circle, West Cork, Ireland

I pitched my newest novel set in ancient Ireland featuring the People of the Stones, those mysterious stone circles and other megaliths scattered across Ireland and Britain’s west coast and on down the Atlantic seaboard.

In my story it’s 750 B.C. and the Celts wouldn’t have been in Ireland yet, but we know where they were–in Hallstatt, Austria, so my protagonist has to go there.

The goal for the author pitching an agent or editor is to get a request for material, a few chapters maybe, or 50 pages, or, best of all, the full manuscript. I’m happy to say I got a positive response from every pitch. But it wasn’t entirely simple.

Imagine the setup. All of the authors who’ve signed up for a particular block of time are led into a room where the agents and editors are sitting behind a very long table. The authors get in line for a person they want to pitch to, and each gets four minutes to describe their project and convince that person to ask for part or all of it. At the end of your four minutes a bell rings and you have to skedaddle because you don’t want to crimp the time for the person in line behind you.

So I was pitching one person and we were having an extended conversation when the bell rang. She handed me her business card and said I could stay a bit to finish the conversation because no one was behind me. But then someone did come up behind and I hurried to leave. I went out into the hall and realized I had no idea what the person I just pitched wanted from me. Maybe she told me but in the confusion I didn’t hear it. Did she want to see any of my work? I didn’t know. So in somewhat of a daze I wandered down the hall to the registration desk, where a man asked if he could help me. I saw Pam Binder looking through some papers and said, “I think I need Pam.”

I told her what had happened. She thought about it a minute, then said, “You need to go back in and get in her line again and ask her.”

Pam didn’t send me. She led me. And with her as my escort I did exactly as she said. The person greeted me and answered with enthusiasm, “I want to see the full manuscript. I want to read this.”

Yay! Now, I’m not giving away names. That’s for later, if it works out in the long run. But pitching is a challenge. Encapsulating your book into a few words that pique a desire to read it. And these positive moments are bits of gold. Thank you, Pam.

With hugs to send me off, Pam took this goodbye picture of me in my signature hat.

Happy. Optimistic. Glad for a few more bits of gold.

On my way home

Promise of Yesteryear

Janet Fisher

One December morning last year I woke to this and snapped a picture which I posted on Facebook with a short comment, “Sunrise! New day. New hope. New promise.”

On this morning’s gray, rainy morning I looked back with some yearning for such a day.

The year in between has had its ups and downs. I took a wonderful trip to Ireland and Hallstatt, Austria, to check on scenes for my latest book–Ireland because it’s the center of the story, Hallstatt because that’s where the Celts were at the time of this dip into the ancient world of the setting. Another highlight came when my daughter Christiane got a job in Portland, Oregon, and she and Aspen moved back west after ten years in Kansas. One more highlight was an excellent writers conference in Seattle where I pitched that latest book, and those pitches went well.

I’ve always been a glass-half-full kind of person. And I need to move forward embracing hope. Without a new novel in the works right now I’m working on a companion book for the series which is related to my newest Irish story. I had already drafted parts of this companion book, but it shifts as my focus shifts. In the last few days I’ve been going back through old travel journals of my first trip to Ireland, reliving some experiences there.

The beauty of the land in its cloak of many greens. The wonder of great stone monuments with their intriguing mysteries, like the passage tomb of Newgrange, below. [The photos below are all from my 2024 trip; I didn’t have a digital camera on the first Irish visit.]

The magic of an exquisite woodland where wind spoke between great oaks. My traipses across green fields with my ready umbrella as boiling clouds opened and let streams of sunshine through to create one of those many Irish rainbows. Stunning cliffs descending into surging waters at the Cliffs of Moher.

And the birds. Oh, the birds! Were they ravens? Or rooks? Or jackdaws? All cousins of the common crow. The latter two weren’t familiar to me. We don’t have those where I live. But whatever the bird we saw great flocks of them sweeping across the historic Hill of Tara and others hovering around the haunting Rock of Cashel where they nested in those stone niches. My daughters joined me on part of that trip and marveled with me. [This morning I spent hours online trying to determine what birds we saw, listening to sample bird calls, reading about the different behaviors, watching videos of onsite tours, and my guess is that the bird shown below outside the Rock of Cashel tower is a jackdaw. And I’m guessing the birds at Tara were rooks.]

In this companion book I want to share the journey, the joys, and the challenges of my research to offer background for the novels.

So in these gray days some streams of sun shine through and I find purpose. May the promise of yesteryear sustain me. I wish such hope and promise for you, my good readers.

November Blues … and Breathing

Janet Fisher

The dark days of November have come upon us. A darkness that can bring us down.

Today the forecast looked like rain all day. Then I glanced up from my morning tea and saw that the sun had come out. Better get my walk in fast. But by the time I got bundled up skies had already darkened again. I grabbed my umbrella and went out anyway.

As I tromped down the road through the drizzle remembering October’s warm sunshine my thoughts turned to the stages of writing–the light and the dark. The spark of inspiration. The thrill of creation. You put so much of yourself into the project. It’s a bit like breathing a long breath out. And it’s such a bright, light feeling. So when that’s done what to do next? Well, I guess you have to take some breaths in. Read. Watch movies. Restore.

After I got back to the house from my drizzly walk I thought I would take a picture of the dreary day–just to reinforce and share my gloom. That’s when I snapped the photo at the top and what do you know. The light just had to shine through those heavy clouds and create a sweeping bright spot. Not for long, though.

Still feeling a keen sense of the dark I wrote a draft for this post and when I thought I was finished I looked up and saw that I would have to take another picture. This is what happened.

So there we are. You never know. Out of the dark comes the light. Blue skies. Hope. Inspiration will come again. We’ll find a way through the darkness. Time to breathe in and find peace.

Roiling Fog Amid Relaxing Days

Janet Fisher

The fog finally lifted this afternoon for a nice walk on the mountain. I love to see it roiling up this way. I remember when I lived in San Francisco how it would roll across the bay. Here, there’s the river.

I’m in rest mode on the writing. We authors are advised to maintain balance in our work–writing, reading, social media, and so on. I think it’s meant to be balance weekly or at least monthly. I’m afraid I don’t quite meet that. When I’m deep into writing I avoid reading other books, partly because I get so caught up in reading I don’t want to quit, so that would surely slow my own projects. I just delve in and let my stories take me.

But when I complete a major project I do treat myself to a reading binge. That’s where I am now. I just completed a polish on the series behind my new book set in ancient Ireland. I had roughed out some major changes to the series before completing the new one. Now those changes are polished.

My binge focus at this time is relaxing with Jane Austen, always a delight.

That said, I always try to walk every day. I need that, not only physically but mentally. So often ideas come to me on these walks. But today I just want to share this outing. No major thoughts incoming. Just joy in the beauties. I thought the fog would never lift this time, but here comes the sun.

If you look close, left of center, you’ll see I have company.

Spring Abloom

Janet Fisher2 Comments

The new little prune-plum orchard came into bloom, heralding spring on the farm. About a month late, given the late spring we’re having in western Oregon. We just went from frosty mornings to summery afternoons. With warm sunny days now the fruit should set well. It’ll be interesting to see. My kids and I planted this small orchard below the hazelnuts soon after we moved to the farm.

In my other life, my writing life, the new book blooms too. The rough draft’s complete. Beta readers reading. I can’t seem to leave it alone. I think of a change I want to make in one of the scenes. I fix that. Read a little farther because–well the words are on the screen right in front of me. The next thing I know an hour has passed, or two, and I have read many more pages. The story has captured me. I’m immersed in the world of my characters in faraway lands, deep in the past, caught in their overwhelming dilemmas. The joys. The sorrows. The anger. The triumphs. I believe that bodes well.

Feedback is good so far. Some constructive critiquing and suggesting. But overall positive.

I still need to do several more straight-through readings myself for fine tuning, once the initial revisions are made.

May it all produce fruit.

Promises

Janet Fisher6 Comments

A show of promises came in doubles yesterday when a rainbow formed over my emerging daffodils–an ancient symbol of promise for better days along with my own floral symbol of promise for spring light pushing back the darkness of winter.

The daffodils haven’t quite opened yet, but these brave flowers have stood tall through a lot of unusually cold days. I’m at 600 feet above sea level so I’m a little colder than the valley floor, but mine are on their way.

Here come the first ones today on a balmy afternoon. Almost there.

By next week I expect they’ll be in full bloom as I sit down to begin writing my new book. I’ll take that for a promise. May the book be a good one. The actual writing is always exciting for me. I appreciate the show of hope nature provides.

Waiting While Stories Bloom

Janet Fisher

Waiting for winter to go. Waiting for snow to melt. Waiting for spring.

Waiting for that important email. Waiting for that vital phone call.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Now, I realize that those of us in western Oregon know nothing of snow the way our friends or family in, say, Maine or Montana do. But it’s already March 5 and my daffodils are usually opening their faces by now. They’re my flowers of promise. They remind me that after the dark winter the light of spring will emerge. Oh yes, we get plenty of dark winter skies in the rainy Pacific Northwest. And snow is bright and beautiful. But I’m ready for spring’s light.

Below you see these same daffodils on February 28, 2022. February 28!

Of course winter offers one positive feature. It’s a good time to delve into indoor projects, like writing. I’m happy to say I just finished the outline for my next book. I’m ready to start the best part of creating a new story–the first draft when I immerse myself in another world and that world comes alive. May it bloom no matter how late the world outside my door.

Morning Light

Janet Fisher

First light on snowy western hills always thrills me. I wake in the dark early hours, thoughts spinning, as my new book comes to life. I know I should be sleeping, but I’m just beginning to see how that next scene will take shape. It grips me, won’t let go.

Finally the room fills with light and I rise from my bed to see this. How can I not stop to share it?

For my followers who may not realize, snow rarely comes to these Oregon hills. Not like the mountains of Montana where I lived for a few years. These foothills of the coast range usually stay green with Douglas Fir forests, even in winter. The middle ground is Pleasant Plain, so called by the pioneers who settled it, the foreground my own oaks. All more accustomed to green. The deep-green river wraps around Pleasant Plain on its snaking journey to the sea.

I step out onto my deck for the early picture. A quick shot. It’s cold out there. In the 20s. We’re not used to that either.

It’s also the view from my office where my stories grow.

The sun lifts higher. I’m just past the three-quarter mark on the outline. Time to turn those waking thoughts into story.

A Writer’s Inspiration

Janet Fisher

Where do the ideas come from?

A whisper from your muse?

The deep wells of your mind?

The fogs in your surroundings?

Writers wonder these kinds of things–perhaps most often when they face a blank screen.

With my last project pretty well wrapped up it’s time for me to start a new book. I’ve had some ideas already. Took some notes. Worked out a potential storyline. Named some characters. I put all that away over the holidays and had other things to do. Now it’s time and procrastination begins.

How do I make the story live? Yesterday I spent all day renaming my protagonist’s little brother. I like the new name, and it stirred other thoughts. I began to envision scenes. Today I opened the window blinds and noticed the fog rising on the river, like dreams, like story. By afternoon a feeble sun broke through, and I grabbed a coat to head out for my walk.

So many ideas emerge on those walks. Fog still rising. Rolling down the river between the oak hills and timbered slopes. The story will come. I just have to let it in.

(Photos taken with my new iPhone on the family farm.)

Writing a Series

Janet Fisher6 Comments

As my followers know, I’ve been writing a series—epic historical novels set primarily in ancient Minoan Crete. The series started as one standalone, now called Beyond the Waning Moon. But I couldn’t leave my people so I just kept going. It became an intergenerational family saga. While each story has its own protagonist and story arc, the overall series also has an arc. A quest. A purpose. The haunting fear of a final destruction. The desperate fight to hold on. The glimmer of hope.

The photos here show the reconstructed hub of Crete, the temple (or palace) of Knossos which was dug out of the earth a hundred years ago after being buried for some 3,000 years. After seeing it and learning of the strong women depicted there, I wanted to immerse myself in that world. And so it began.

The fresco of the charging bull, part of the reconstructed ruins of Knossos, replicates some of the amazing art left by the Minoans of ancient Crete, one of many images that inspired me to write about the people who once lived on this remarkable Mediterranean island, now one of the beautiful Greek Isles.

I named the overall saga the Distant Glimmer Series to reflect the distant light shining into our own times. The stories take place long ago, but they speak to our own lives today.

I’m putting finishing touches on Book Seven.

Up until now I had the impression that in marketing the work, all emphasis should go on the first book. Maybe mention that there are more to come, but don’t stress it. So I haven’t stressed the series aspect.

The columns of the temple of Knossos line corridors and staircases and, as here, one of the many stairwells. The most common columns were a bold red and extended from floor to ceiling, but some like these stood shorter above low walls and were painted black with red capitals at the top and a red band at the bottom.

This September I attended a virtual writers conference, the annual conference of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association headquartered in Seattle. During workshops I kept hearing about the power of a series.

I attended a pitch fest because I planned to pitch the opening book of my saga. Gerri Russell, award-winning, bestselling author of stacks of books, led the session, and when we broke out into smaller groups I felt fortunate to have her as coach for my group. We all gave our pitches for the agents, publishers, or producers we hoped to convince to take a look at our work. I hoped to lead the listener into the world pictured on this post and to bring the Cretan characters alive who walk through my thoughts and dreams in these fabulous places.

Gerri immediately got what I was doing with the book from the pitch I gave. But from that she began to question me to ferret out ways to better present it. Who are my characters? What are their goals, their conflicts? Could I be more personal about their dilemmas? I don’t remember all her specific questions but I quickly saw I needed to dig much deeper if I was to reveal the book’s strengths to the listener.

The throne room has been reconstructed with its frescoed griffins and small alabaster throne. It appears the throne would more likely fit a woman than a man, which led some to believe the leader of the people was a woman, a choice I made when I portrayed the leader as the high priestess. However, in my story she does accept a king, a warrior to help protect her people from threatening invaders.

The group members had a chance to try once more, and I bumbled through mine as I tried to rethink it in the moment. Gerri kept going back and forth with me, quizzing me, plucking out salient points. Those salient points gave the pitch new life. Then I hesitantly asked if I should say I have seven in the series written. She burst out with surprise. Yes! Of course! Yes!

So there it was. Emphasize the series. Each book has to stand alone, true. But its place in a series gives it much greater impact. Perhaps the market has changed. Maybe readers are wanting a series more than they did before. Something they can really get their teeth into. In any case that’s what I have. That’s what I’ll promote to those who hold the keys to entry into publication.