fall

Week Three of NaNoWriMo and I am pleased to announce that my word count is 40,008. That leaves just 9,992 words to goal. With Thanksgiving coming up (besides cooking the turkey, I’ll also be peddling my jewelry at Leon & Lulu this weekend for the Holiday Artist Market), I need to be ahead of schedule.

The word count is the good news. The bad news is the way that I’m writing.

I sit down and begin to write. That’s good. (Very good.) I’m actually getting a lot done in the small amount of free time that I have. However, I’m pantsing it the whole way this year. Which means I’m not writing in a linear progression, meaning not by date, not by story line, not by character or point of view, not by anything.

Example: Last week I simultaneously worked on the beginning, the end, and the in between. Not in logical order, mind you. I kinda-sorta know the scenes I have in mind, but I don’t write them beginning to end. And what’s worse, I might get 3/4th of a scene finished, time’s up, I move on to something new the next day, and three days later come back and finish the first scene.

I know, I know, I could maybe go back and serialize it as I go along. But this is NaNo! I don’t have time to dink around with logistics! Dinking around is why they made a month called December!

I wouldn’t recommend writing in this haphazard way, and I don’t think I’ll do it again. It’s very messy. Already I see I’m going to have to print this work out and use my trusty scissors in order to get it back to a normal and sensible progression. Too late to change direction now.

In other news, winter has arrived with a vengeance, after a warm and balmy fall. It was 70 degrees Friday! I woke up to 27 degrees today. Which is why the backyard isn’t raked yet. (See photo above.) I’ll be too busy writing and making turkey and homemade cranberry relish and pumpkin pie and sage stuffing in the next couple of days to get to it.

Got to run. Time to write.

 

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I started the NaNoWriMo challenge last week like I ended Week 1 – on fricking fire! As soon as I hit the halfway point (25K+ on Wednesday), I had to slow up and do a few minor things around the house. Like finish harvesting all of the sweet potatoes and bring all of the house plants back inside after their long hot summer out of doors. This is Michigan, you know, and the threat of a freeze last Thursday night was upon us.

It only took my husband and I from 2 – 6:30 p.m. to complete the task of lugging the plants back in. That’s because we are getting too old for this bullshit (as I reminded him every five minutes, at first gently, after the first hour with more vigor). And he prefers ceramic pots, so an 8′ fig tree is going to weigh about 300 pounds. I love growing things, and most of my plants (angel trumpet, bird of paradise, citrus, bay, rosemary, agave, etc.) are not cold hardy here. I’ve been lobbying for a greenhouse (preferably attached, preferably heated, and preferably with a water supply) for three years now. I think I’m going to have to put my foot down in 2017.

The rest of the week was spent in research for the current work in progress. I don’t usually perform an in-depth research, but this time I’m studying the weather conditions in the areas where I am placing my characters. I’ve also set up a calendar (my story takes place in the month of May) and have begun to sketch out where the ups and downs will be, the climax, etc. I’m a pant-ser, so this is pretty remarkable for me. I normally don’t do this kind of “planning” – such as it is, until after the first draft is complete.

After a weekend of very little writing, I’m looking forward to starting again in earnest.

In the meantime, enjoy this:

newkitty

This is Purrby when we adopted him three years ago. There’s nothing like a kitten picture to brighten up your day.

Until next time…

 

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Wow, not even a full week of writing and I’m up to over 12K in this year’s NaNoWriMo! This is the most productive NaNo I’ve had since I started. (So far. I don’t want to jinx myself by crowing too loudly.)

Not wanting to spend too much time or too many words on this post, I do want to share some observations of the last few days:

  1. The more you write, the more you write. It’s true! Getting into the habit helps.
  2. The more you write, the faster you write. I can remember previous November writing attempts where squeezing out 500 words a sitting would take three hours. Now I’m doing about 1200/hr or more.
  3. Clearing the schedule is a must. This November, I am giving up my daily runs. No work out until I have at least 50K words. Running is my hour of writing. I may weigh 200 pounds by December 1st, but hey, I’ll have the bones of the work down.
  4. Don’t look back. I used to be the kind of writer where I’d write a paragraph or two and then spend the next half hour ruminating over what I’d done. A November manuscript isn’t going to hit any store shelves right away. Go ahead and zoom along. Editing is for later.
  5. Make sure the heat is turned on. It’s easier to write if your fingers aren’t cold.

That’s it for now. I’ve got to finish my Day Job work so I can work on the novel. See you next time!

Happy writing!

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words

This year’s installment of NaNoWriMo marks the first time in ten years where I haven’t had a clue as to what to write.

No. Really.

It’s not that I don’t have plenty of things to write about or to work on. I’ve been puzzling over the latest (and hopefully LAST) edits for Virtually Yours Forever. I have another YA novel that is completed but needs an edit (and edit and edit). I have no less than five manuscripts in various stages of disrepair, from 20K to 70K words. Most of those I started in November, for NaNoWriMo, but had abandoned because of some crisis or another in my life. (Crisis is a terrible excuse, I’ll try not to use it anymore.)

I’m usually a “pantser” anyway; I can’t stand the constraints of plotting, especially with new work. I want to follow the wind, be able to change my mind at a moment’s notice. Outlines *shiver* make me want to hide under an assortment of covers. Don’t get me wrong. I envy those who can whip up an outline and a synopsis before they begin writing. That is a skill I could use. I’m sure it’s a right brain function, and I’m left brain all the way.

This is not to say that I don’t have any ideas. I have ideas up the wazoo. I just don’t have the motivation or the time to place butt in seat and begin typing. The entire purpose of NaNoWriMo is to write as fast and as much as you can for 30 days. Doing so instills a work habit that writers need – write a little every day.

Actually, pleading the case that you “don’t have time” is a bad excuse too. I used to write while working. It wasn’t my best writing, but I got it done between phone calls, payroll, and irate customers.

Come to think of it, NaNoWriMo is a total excuse breaker! If you can’t pump out 50K words in a month (which don’t have to be perfect, don’t have to be complete, don’t have to have a character arc or a theme), you might as well turn in your notebook and pencil and start a new career as a street sweeper.

(Just kidding.)

So tomorrow, I’m going to start with a clean slate, a new file, and a small, purse-sized notebook and fresh pencil and write like hell for 30 days. I might be writing blind, but hey, Helen Keller was blind. If she could feel her way around a story, so can I.

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Yesterday, I spent the day at Leon & Lulu, a hip shop that once a year features local books and authors. This is my third year of attending.

I have to say that I love this store. It features furniture, clothing, and chatzkees you won’t find anywhere else east of San Francisco. I could spend all day in it reading (there’s a great selection of books as well) while I try out couches and side chairs. (I have hence spent a great deal of money on furniture, as you can imagine.)

After setting up my table, I settled in with complimentary coffee and sweets. (There’s complimentary hot dogs and wine later.)

leonandlulu

I don’t do too many of these meet and greets with my books. For one thing, while spending the afternoon in a fabulous venue with interesting people who are overly kind to you is a fantastic way to spend an afternoon, I don’t really have the time. I could have been pulling up my sweet potatoes or doing laundry, but I do make the time for this one event a year.

I’m also a recovering introvert, which is why I force myself into situations like this. It’s honestly hard for me to start a conversation, but I’ve learned through many years of practice that if you start with a smile and a hello, you can often build from that.

I certainly don’t attend to make a ton of cash. Let’s get real. When you’re an artist, you have to steel yourself for the looky-loos. You can’t creative for everyone. In a room full of children’s books, mysteries, and prescriptive nonfiction, my contemporary literature isn’t going to appeal to a wide audience (although grown men have purchased my book, amazingly so).

Plus, I think it’s a win-win if only one person is enamored of my story just from the back cover blurb and it’s a home run if they love the book once they’ve read it.

So I don’t go in looking for a windfall. After all, this is a charity event. The most I can hope for is getting my name out there.

I also attend for another totally selfish reason. I people watch. I listen to people with their stories, like the little girl who loved to write and was interested in self-publishing, or the man who lost his wife to cancer and was dealing with the pain, or the author who looks a lot like Santa Claus.

There are stories everywhere! You don’t have to look far or wide, you just have to open your eyes!

In a lull moment, I opened up each of my novels and read the final chapter. Something came rushing in…pride? a sense of accomplishment? inspiration? I found the urge to put pen to paper.

And this is why I do Books and Authors.

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I’m afraid I’m going to have to walk away from the electronics for a while…

I came to this conclusion last night after watching the Presidential debate.

At the end of this vitriolic passion play, I felt sick to my stomach. Dirty, like I needed to take a hot shower. I felt like grabbing some water wings and swimming over to Canada. I’m not a strong swimmer, but I think I could make it.

Before you think, “well, she hates this candidate or that candidate” – NO. First of all, I’m an independent. Secondly, I think both choices are sadly lacking. This is the best we could do? Neither one is a true statesman, someone who could keep their head above the fray. What really galled me was that they were talking about things that don’t matter, or that certainly don’t matter to me.

I’m a problem solver; I need a detailed step-by-step solution to our problems, real problems. I want justice for all. I don’t need pie in the sky dreams or handfuls of money thrown around. I need someone to think ahead – way ahead. Like beyond the grandkids ahead.

It’s not just the election. At the risk of sounding like an old lady (I am), the whole world is whack. We’re in a new century with all the modern conveniences, and yet so many people are dissatisfied or disenfranchised. So many people feel hated or unloved. We have this big, tremendously useful thing called the Internet, too. We should feel closer to each other, not farther away.

Last night as I was lying in bed wondering why I couldn’t fall asleep, I realized what the problem is. We live our lives by the flicker of the screen, TV, computer, cell phone. The very anonymity of the online world is what drives us apart. Media riles us up by telling one sliver of a story and not the entire big picture. It amplifies our fears and raises anxiety. The world is now crass and without dignity. The more outrageous, the better. We want what we want when we want it NOW. Everything is an event to be witnessed from afar, in front of others, selfied and video taped for maximum YouTube views instead of submersing yourself in the act. The “reality” of media gives me a panic attack, not unlike the one I felt in the weeks after 9-11.

So I am going to disengage from the pretend world for a while. I’ll draw, create art, finish writing my book. I’ll read more, including the classics. I’ll walk outside in the wind and rain and feel the sun on my face. I’ll visit a few museums. Cranbrook, maybe? I haven’t been there in a decade or so. I’ll talk to people and look them in the eye when I do, and when I shake their hand or hug them, I’ll do it like I mean it. I’ll write longhand in my notebook, and write letters in pen and ink and send them the antiquated way – via mail.

Oh, I’ll still have to use the Internet for my job, but I’ll make a conscious effort to shut it and my cell phone off.

The only way to engage in life is to disengage from the crap.

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…or Why I Don’t Write

the-blank-pageThe blank page, dammit.

If there is anything more distressing to a writer, it’s the occasional so-called ‘writers block.’ After all, we as artists are hard-wired to create. Some of us create using physical materials; some of us create using the world inside our heads. When something gums up the works, when we are unable to produce, we feel anxious and upset. We beat up on ourselves. I call myself lazy, a procrastinator, a wannabe, a failed writer. All these terms are nice (or not) but they do not address any of the real issues.

Believe me, I know of what I speak. I’ve been suffering from the second longest dry spell in history (the first being the first 18 years of my children’s lives). I’ve been introspectively pondering the problem for the last year or so. If you are also suffering from writers block, I urge you to spend a few moments examining the root causes and devise a strategy for change.

My Story…

Real Life as a Cause: About a year and a half ago, one of my family members became embroiled in some major personal drama. It was also very serious, legally, psychically, emotionally. It also caused him to become very ill. In fact, he’s still very ill.

Of course, I love this person. I would move mountains to help. Unfortunately for me, I allowed myself to get wrapped up in this situation. I tried to devise solutions to problems that weren’t mine, and that was frustrating. This led to severe depression for me. When I am depressed, I can’t think of doing anything remotely pleasant. If I do write at all, I tend to pen very dark and depressing stories.

I’m currently battling a way out of my funk. I’m lucky in that I recognize what is going on and reach out to those who can help me. Medication helps.

Self-Doubt as a Cause: Last year, I had just finished what I thought was my final version of Virtually Yours Forever. Then I sent it to my editor. Then he called me and told me I should devise a parallel story to the current one to add interest.

I went along, but I couldn’t see this happening with my characters. Yes, I was half-hearted about the whole idea. It was a good idea, yes, but it wasn’t right for me, for this particular story. I spent a year on the re-write, fighting myself every day I opened the file. Meanwhile, I was berating myself for not getting it. What was wrong with me? This was a GREAT idea!

This entire episode bogged down my creative process.

I decided to take out the parallel story line and am in the process of the FINAL edit.

Laziness as a Cause: I know. I call myself *lazy* but am I really? I own several businesses. I run nearly every day. I make dinner five out of seven nights a week – yes! with my very own hands with fresh ingredients. I garden. I clean my own house (yes, even the bathrooms) and do my own laundry. I take jewelry classes. I read (when I can).

I can’t remember the last time I took a nap. If I have a spare minute of time, I can find something to do. (I am sooooo looking forward to retirement, when I can devote all of my time to pleasurable activities.)

I have determined that my form of *laziness* has only to do with getting my butt into a chair and actually typing something on that blank page.

Things you can do to unblock…

Improve your craft: Any artist can benefit from constant learning. You were not born a perfect writer, and any skill takes constant practice.

Take a class online (I do). Sign up for NaNoWriMo (I did). Find a Facebook group that throws out an occasional writing prompt (look up Meg Pokrass – she’s witty and I love her prompts). Sign up for a class In Real Life. Join a writers group, either a general one or in your genre. Invest in reference books. If you can’t afford to buy, there is that antique thing called a library. Every city has one. They will let you borrow books! 🙂 Find a mentor. Reach out to authors you like online; you’d be surprised, some of them will answer you back.

The bottom line: Make a commitment, even if it’s for ten minutes a day.

Read other people: Finding time to read is tough – especially in my life – but for your own sanity, make the time. Even if it’s just a chapter. Even if it’s just a page.

I get the most inspiration from reading, especially if it’s a genre I enjoy.

Again, it’s the commitment, even if it’s for just ten minutes.

Change your modus operandi: If your blockage is major like mine was (yes! was!), you might want to change up your approach. After all, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity – and it won’t move you toward your goal of words flowing.

Change your scenery. My creative juices always get rolling if I’m far from home and the worries of day to day life. It never fails. A mini-vacation will do wonders.

I find that doing things helps. While in Colorado recently, I felt compelled to write a short story about running, after spending ten days running with my dad’s dachshund. It was such an intriguing story line, I’m thinking of expanding the story into novel length. I’m also inclined to think about writing when I’m gardening – it’s something about getting your hands into dirt that starts me thinking. Or when spring cleaning – which I’ve just put off until recently, so I guess it’s fall cleaning now – I pull out bits and pieces of my life from nooks and crannies and think about the history in my hands. (Plus the house gets decluttered and dusted. Win-win.)

It also helps to change up where you write. I used to only write in the comfy purple chair in my bedroom. Now I sit at a table where the activity is more a job than a whimsical past-time. I turn off EVERYTHING, even the phone, and I write like hell for an hour before I get up.

No matter what, patience: Blockage is temporary, yes, even if temporary = twenty years. You can and will get back on that bicycle and ride off! Trust me! Don’t compare yourself to other writers; you’re not running a race against them. You own your own creative process, and how you get to your goals will definitely not match up to other writers.

Trust me. A writer can work his/her way out of writers block. It just takes time and constant tending.

 

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