“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

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Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads...
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Sucker Punch: A Movie with Writing Tips?


I finally watched Sucker Punch this weekend. (I know, I’m behind the times.) Besides the entertainment of the crazy genre mash-up and trying to keep up with not two, but three realities—I’m pretty sure there was three—the end had a good point. I don’t mean “know your weapons and use them” bit. That’s a good thing to do. Using your imagination is awesome, of course. Everyone should use their brain. No, the part that stuck in my head was “know whose story it is”.

Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Yet, how many times do we as artists lose track of that simple idea? I know I’ve done it. I’ve written scenes that I loved only to have to cut them because they detracted from my main character. I’ve come to abrupt halts in projects because the character I thought was the main character suddenly wasn’t.

To get myself back on track, I ask myself where I veered off course. In some places, it’s a matter of tweaking the wording. In others, it’s cut and rewrite. And in a few, I have to ask myself, who am I really writing about? Is it the brooding chimney sweep who just lost everything he held dear, or is it the cheerful thief who tumbled down his client’s chimney? Once I figure that out, I can pick up my weapons and use them.
How do you deal with a situation like this?  Leave a comment!

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