My mid-grade-reader-in-progress provides me with many challenges. But the most difficult challenge for me is deciding and sticking to the Point of View (POV) that is most appropriate for my book.

“Shelter of Last Resort” is a story about Jermaine, a 13-year-old black boy living in the poverty-stricken Ninth Ward of New Orleans, who endures Hurricane Katrina. And I am writing this manuscript in first person.
 
Think about that a moment. Here I am, a middle-aged white woman from Northern Indiana. Imagine my pain and anxiety while trying to squeeze thoughts, words and experiences into my main character so that they come out sounding like a black boy living in a gang-infested neighborhood.

You have heard of writer’s block. This is similar. But it’s more like writer’s constipation.

I consider flushing the entire project down the commode.  

With the prodding of a few of my writing friends, however, I decide the best option is to chew on the foundational fibers of character development. I discovered there are techniques that actually help move things along. Here are the treatments I use to bring Jermaine to life.

• Print off a picture that looks like my main character as I picture him. I find a random picture online.
• Write up a character profile with information about family, friends, school, habits, eye and hair color, likes, dislikes, enemies, etc.
• Watch movies featuring people and topics that accurately represent my character’s ethnic background and setting. (www.youtube.com is also a good resource for this.)
• Listen to music enjoyed by people of the same age and ethnic group as my character.
• Read books with similar characters from similar time periods.
• Write a character journal. I put my main character in different situations and he talks about those situations in first person. Few, if any, of these “situations” make it into my book. They are just exercises in getting to know my character better.
• Visit your main character. OK. You really can’t spend time with your made-up character. Not without being committed, anyhow. But I did spend time in New Orleans on a missions trip and one of our projects was to minister to the kids on the playground. Talking to them and listening to them talk to each other was invaluable.

When I first started, the story was painful to write. I strained to produce a POV that sounded even remotely close to my character’s voice. These treatments helped unclog my mind. Jermaine’s voice now flows through my brain and into my story. Sometimes, as I work through the book, Jermaine’s “voice” slips out into my everyday conversations with people around me. His slang shapes my sentences. His accent becomes my accent.

That’s how I know I am finally mastering my character’s voice.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must go plunge into my writing.   

"This is a national emergency. This is a national disgrace," Terry Ebbert, the head of homeland security in New Orleans, bitterly complained. "FEMA has been here three days, yet there is no command and control. We can send massive amounts of aid to tsunami victims, but we can't bail out the city of New Orleans." (New York Times, 9/2/05) 

As writers we weave our lives into our work. Whether it's subtle or blatant, it’s there.

My work-in-progress, Shelter of Last Resort takes place during Hurricane Katrina. I chose this topic because of the devastation I experienced while working missions in New Orleans after the hurricane. Aside from gutting houses, I also spent time in the evenings playing with the kids at one of the parks. They were a rough bunch. They used language I thought shocking for adults, let alone young kids. They threw rocks at each other. Spit at each other. Made crude remarks and threatened one another. A few in our small missions group, sadly, were so turned off by this disrespect and “wildness” that they did not return the rest of the week to spend time or minister to these precious children.

But these kids craved love. I remember two young girls sitting on a bench braiding each other’s hair, smiling and talking. Another young boy clung to me and was very focused on drawing pictures—one of which I was blessed to be gifted with. A couple of little girls shared my lap while big Bobby Morton (former Notre Dame offensive lineman) presented a Bible story, complete with his unique dramatization. Then the kids flocked around the picnic table for face painting and I watched as they took their paint brushes and completely covered even inch of my son’s head and face in bright colors. He sat there patiently with a big grin on his face, enjoying every minute. And I vividly remember never being without a little hand to hold.

This took place three years after the hurricane. These kids were survivors. And though their little minds couldn’t possibly comprehend everything they had endured, they each had their own survival story. I wondered as I sat there with them how many lost someone they loved. How many lost their homes, their possessions and their beloved pet? How many evacuated and how many stayed behind? What horrors had they seen or experienced?

My heart broke just trying to take it all in.

Jermaine and Cornell, the two main characters in my book, are the embodiment of these children. In addition, I’ve taken my own experience with “survival” and applied it to their situation. I want kids to gain strength from reading Jermaine’s story and feel they can overcome whatever pains and obstacles life puts in their path.

I am in the final stages of writing the book, but it will still have to undergo several editing phases and editor evaluations. I am beginning work on the book proposal, which in itself will easily exceed 25 pages.

I draw my inspiration from a lot of venues. I do a lot of research (articles, videos and books) and read stories from Katrina survivors. One song that still remains a strong inspiration for me is Rascal Flatts’ “Stand.” But my most powerful source of inspiration are those rough, but amazingly strong kids that I had the privilege of spending time playing with in the park during those few hot and sticky evenings in New Orleans. 

Shelter of Last Resort originally transpired from my Young Adult Novel Class, taught through Bethel College by Professor Kim Peterson. In addition to writing and editing the first 20,000 words or so of the book, I had to create character profiles and get into my character's head by creating a journal. The journal was an account of bits of Jermaine's life that may or may not be used in the book. It just helped me get a better feel for who Jermaine was and what his life was like so I could apply those characteristics and experiences into the book, usually indirectly. Here is an example of some of those entries. 
 Entry 1
   So much death. Jermaine watched the events unfold on the TV. as if they were taking place around him. The continuous popping of the rifles as both sides sought to slaughter each other. He felt as if the bullets were whipping pas this own ears. Men were dying. When a whizzing bullet blew through the brushes and planted itself into real flesh and blood, the noise sickened him
   Yet it was just a movie
   The courage of the American soldiers seemed foreign to Jermaine.In the heat of battle, where bullets burned and bombs dismembers, soldiers helped their brothers in need. They protected each other. They tended to the wounded. They stayed focused on their mission. 
   Jermaine wondered if he could ever be that brave.
   
Entry 2
    “Get that dog outta here!” Jermaine’s mama shouted from the kitchen.
   “What’s he doin’ now?” Jermaine’s eyes rolled and he made his way across the livingroom. Suddenly a brown and white blur of fur darted past him and up the stairs.
   “Finchley!” he shouted after the dog.
   “That’s it! One more time he steals food off the table, he’s out on his butt!”
   “Mama, he’s just a pup.”
   “I don’t care if he’s a pup or a full-blown dog. He needs to learn him some manner.”

Entry 3   
   The alarm clock set sounded it weak wake-up call reminding Jermaine that the batteries were low. He tapped the back of the clock and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and slipped out from the covers, making his way down the hall. His mama and little brother Kirk still slept.
   After reaching the small kitchen, Jermaine poured cereal into two bowls and sat them at the table. He went to Kyle's bedroom.
   “Breakfast,” He mumbled as he nudged his brother awake. 
    Kyle always woke up easily. He popped out of bed and hustled to the kitchen for breakfast with Jermaine following close behind. Jermaine divided what was left of the milk into the two bowls. Kyle grinned a sleepy grin at his brother and grabbed his spoon.