Tag Archives: Masha Levinson

Ask a Mermaid: I Hate My Heroine, Can This WIP Be Saved?

Ask a Mermaid, Diana Belchase, ,

Ask a Mermaid is a monthly advice column for writers. If we don’t have the answers, we’ll find them for you. Send in your questions to Ask a Mermaid.

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Dear Mermaids,

A horrible thing has happened. I’m halfway through my WIP and I’ve started to hate my heroine. Well, hate may be too strong a word but she sure does annoy me. Can this WIP be saved?

 Sinking in the Deep End

 

Dear Sinking,

First, congratulations on hating your heroine.  No, seriously, I promise I’m not being facetious.  The fact that you are identifying a problem halfway through your WIP is a great tribute to your writing sensory skills.  I don’t know if this is your first manuscript or you have others in your back pocket, but in my case, I finished the entire WIP and sent out submissions before I realized the heroine sucked.  And it’s a lot more difficult to fix a whole manuscript that to go back on something that is not yet finished.

My advice would be to put aside your manuscript and write down the specific reason why you aren’t bonding with her.  Putting it on paper will help cement the problem.  Next, put away your writer cap and take out the reader headgear.  If you purchased this book, why wouldn’t you connect with this heroine.  Write those things down too.  Compare the lists and see if there are matches.  Your lists may be different because when you are writing your focus is different than when you’re simply the reader and trying to get swept away by a story.

Next, go back to your manuscript and highlight where you think things went off track.  Was she unlikable from the beginning or did the writing veer off at some point?  I’m thinking if she’s unlikable from the beginning, it may be because you didn’t fully define her in your own mind.  So when it came time to write her, she may have swayed all over the place.  I know that’s the case with some of my writing.

If all else fails, my last bit of advice is to plagiarize.  No, I don’t mean ACTUALLY plagiarize.  Take your most favorite book ever, the one where the hero and heroine are so real they practically come off the page and start reading it again.  But don’t read as a reader.. read as a writer.  Try to pinpoint why you connect with the heroine and how the author manages to convey that attachment (heck, maybe even put together the same list, but this time, write down why the heroine was great).

Lastly.. if none of this works.. go for Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.  Extra calories always gets my creativity flowing.

Good luck!

Mermaid Masha Levinson

 

Dear Sinking,

The first awesome bit of news is….YES! Your WIP can not only be saved but it can be made fabulous and riveting. Try this fun exercise that helps me: Set aside some alone time for yourself and your hero. Once you’ve got that, straight up ask him this, “Hey there handsome, so this girl you’re in love with, yeah the totally annoying chick no one but you can stand, what the heck is it that you see in her?” He’s your hero, he won’t let you down. And the second bit of awesome news? It’s my opinion that a prickly, hard to love heroine makes for fireworks when you figure out how to make the rest of us love her. So don’t give up!

Fishy kisses!

Mermaid Carlene Love Flores

 

Dear Sinking,

Of course she can be saved, Deep End. You made her, and you can fix her! Remember, two of the most beloved heroines of all time were not very nice people. Scarlett O’Hara was a conniving, man-stealing, vain, selfish woman. Shanna, in Kathleen Woodiwiss’ novel of the same name, was equally arrogant. Yet, these two heroines are beloved because of their transformative journey.

My advice, figure out what is annoying you. Make a list of those traits and then see what you can do to flesh out and balance your character. Can we forgive Scarlett when we see her heart is broken over Ashley? Do we want to cover our eyes and scream, “No don’t do it,” when she marries Melanie’s brother? Those are the kind of little flaws, equalizers, that keep us reading until we see the heroine become more than what she is at the moment. So, take your heroinethrough those “human” moments and let the reader see what the people in her life cannot — her true heart.

Good luck and don’t give up!

Mermaid Diana Belchase

Ask a Mermaid is a monthly advice column for writers. If we don’t have the answers, we’ll find them for you. Send in your questions to Ask a Mermaid.

Happy Valentine’s Week – Day Three

mermaids, , , , , , ,

Happy Valentine’s Week from the Waterworld Mermaids!!!

Here in our lovely mermaid lagoon, we are all abuzz with the holiday of love. And because we’re in such a happy mood, we wanted to share some stories and memories from mermaid-pasts. Best of all, we’re celebrating all week long! We hope you enjoy!

Ever notice how love can inspire music and music often has a hand in love? Whether the feelings are between significant others or family members, today’s stories mix these two beautiful things – love and music….

 

Songs in the Key of Love
Denny S. Bryce

He had a voice like smooth raw silk—deep and rich and soft and strong. When he sang, with his lips next to my ear, his breath was warm and cool, and always made me smile.

He loved to sing. He would burst into song anywhere, any time. When we sat in the car at the gas pump, or as we shopped for groceries, or walked across the football field after he’d coached a game.

It took a few months, but eventually, I joined in and sang the words I knew to whatever song he was singing. But my voice never sounded as good as his. So I mostly sat back and let him sing to me. He liked it best that way.

He wasn’t showing off. No, but sometimes talking didn’t do what he wanted it to do. His words weren’t as good as the lyrics on the radio. It was easier to say what he wanted to say with a song.

So he’d serenade me.

After a while, I stopped noticing when he sang, or that he wasn’t singing as much anymore.

Then one night we were in the car driving back from, or driving off to, somewhere, and a Stevie Wonder song came on the radio. It was from a 1976 album, Songs in the Key of Life, one of my favorites from back in the day.

He pulled over to the side of the road, and started singing…

“As”.

If you’re not familiar, here are some of the lyrics…

You know what I say is true
That I’ll be loving you always

(Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky)
Always
(Until the ocean covers every mountain high)
Always
(Until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea)
Always
(Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream)

Did you know that true love asks for nothing
No no her acceptance is the way we pay
Did you know that life has given love a guarantee
To last through forever and another day

Well, let’s just say, I started listening again…and heard every word when he sang.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

Song from the Heart
Masha Levinson

This thing I hold in my arms is more like a loaf of bread than a baby.  And not one of those pretty loaves either.  He’s all beat up looking.  Black and blue.  As if he’d been in a fight and is now sleeping off a horrid hangover.  Except unlike most drunks, this one isn’t staying quiet.  He’s screaming as if belting out a tune for the cheap seats at Lincoln Center.  And it’s 2:30 in the morning.  And I’m tired.  And cranky.  And I want to go to sleep.  And he won’t cooperate.  The spindles from the creaky rocking chair are digging into my back.  My arm, the one his lumpy head is resting on, has long ago fallen asleep. Why won’t this kid sleep?

It’s half an hour later when his eyelids begin to flutter up and down.  Small veins weave around his translucent skin.  His fragility amazes me.  Twenty minutes later, he’s finally asleep.  I exhale.  As if holding the rarest of gems, I will my body off the chair, cringing when the hinges squeal.  I hold my breath.  He doesn’t stir.  Step by step, I make it to the crib.  The side is up.  I can’t reach in there.  I look around the semi-lit room and see the stepstool.  I hold him in my arms and with one foot drag it toward his crib.  His eyes flutter open.  My breath hitches.  He closes them.  I place the stool in front of the bed and gingerly climb on it.  The crib is still too high for me.

Each time, before I lower him into the crib, no matter how tired, I lean over and kiss his satiny forehead.  Tonight is no different.  He sighs.  I smile.  I lean over and place him, as carefully as if he was the most fragile loaf of bread, onto the sheets.  I hold my breath and wait.  Sometimes he wakes and sometimes he doesn’t.  He continues sleeping. I exhale and creep out of the room.  I crawl into my bed.  My body begins to drift off as the last thought flutters through my mind.  I wonder if he’ll ever know what I did for him.

Fourteen years later I’m sitting in front of the school, waiting to pick him up from a homecoming dance.  It’s Saturday night.  Request night on the love station.  I’m tapping my finger on the steering wheel.  The music filters off and then I hear it.  “Our last dedication is to Masha from her brother and for everything she did for him.”

I stop tapping.  And breathing.  The intro to the song begins to fill the car.  A moment later the words come across my old radio loud and clear.  I am no longer left to wonder.

The song he chose is Hero.

 

We hoped you enjoyed our stories today. Come back tomorrow for more sweet stories that are sure to make you feel all gooey (in a good way)!