Jenny Margotta

Writing dialogue can be so much fun—and so much work. When it’s done correctly, it can individualize your characters and add a delightful layer to your stories. When it’s done incorrectly . . . well, let’s not go there.  Dialogue should sound as if the reader is actually listening to real people having real conversations. People speak in partial sentences and contractions. They break all the rules of proper grammar and sentence structure. They flavor their speech with regional dialects, acronyms, foreign words, and their own personal idioms.    My tips for writing incredible dialogue will help you master the art of writing believable, character-establishing dialogue that will take your story to the next level. 

I hear so many people tell me they’d love to write a book but they don’t know where to start. “I don’t have a strong enough grasp on all the rules of grammar and punctuation.” “I don’t . . .”  “I can’t . . .” “I need to . . .”  Those are all excuses. Let me tell you how to kickstart your dream of writing, whether you’re thirteen or ninety-seven. You can do it! 

You’ve done your research. You’ve worked and slaved and agonized and the final page has been written. You’re done, right? Probably not. Unless you’re an as-yet-undiscovered creative writing prodigy, your work is going to need to be edited. No matter how good a writer you are, your work can always be better. Even if it’s just tweaking that one adjective or adverb that really nails an emotion. You need a good editor, but there’s a lot you can do on your own before spending money.  As a professional editor, my job is to take your great story and make it that much better. But I can give you lots of tips do to on your own that will greatly improve your writing before you pay an editor. And you won’t even need to buy your own copy of the 1,200-plus page The Chicago Manual of Style to master those tips. 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “Anthologies are a great way to showcase our writers, but publishing one is never profitable.”    Not true! The High Desert Branch of the California Writers Club publishes bi-annual anthologies that are not only high-quality, great showcases for our writers but are profitable for our branch as well. Let me tell you how it’s done. 

There are two types of people in the world: Those who are scared stiff when faced with the prospect of giving a presentation and those who love them.  I fall into the latter category. I have loved engaging an audience since I was a kid acting in school plays and singing on stage. Throughout my professional career, I’ve enjoyed delivering keynotes, participating in panel discussions, giving radio interviews, and singing in 9 countries in Europe and numerous states here in the U.S. I’ve always been a bit of a performer and, let’s face it, giving a presentation is a form of performance.  My tips for preparing and delivering great talks will help any presenter speaking on any topic to be successful. 

I spent more than twelve years dealing with the heartbreaking effects Alzheimer’s had on my mother. She loved to laugh, but I think she liked to argue and fight just as much. But whatever she did, she did with passion and energy. Alzheimer’s destroyed all that until my mother, the woman who nurtured me and taught me about life, disappeared. Until everything she had been was gone, and all that was left was a stranger.  Her story needed to be told, and my book, The Woman in Room 23,is that story. But it’s also the story of those who are tasked with being the caregivers. The Woman is Room 23 is a universal story for those who have experienced the tragedy Alzheimer’s inflicts on a loved one of their own. 

“If you really want to do it, you’ll figure out a way to get it done.” Those are my mother’s words, but over the years they have become my personal mantra.  I have been physically disabled since the age of 13 months, when, in September of 1953, I was stricken with polio during one of the last outbreaks in the U.S. before the Salk vaccine was introduced.    But, partly due to my mother’s encouragement, I refused to be a victim. I refused to listen when over the years, people told me, “You’ll never be able to . . .” I learned to roller skate, ride a bike, walk on stilts, water and snow ski, and even danced—well sort of—at one of my weddings. Now, as a senior citizen and living alone, I’m faced with the challenges of doing my own grocery shopping, and bringing everything into the house, carrying the laundry to and from the laundry room, and all the other physical tasks most people take for granted.  But like my mantra, I’ve figured out creative and inspiring ways to get it all done. I still refuse to be a victim.