Sometimes a Writer Has to Live

Posted by Joanne Huspek

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPePasexF9w

Wow, this has been some year.

Sickness, death, destruction. Problems, big and small.

Sometimes I feel like I’m my own firehouse. I’m putting out fires left and right. I’m rescuing cats out of trees and running my own EMS station, 24/7/365. (Yup, no rest on major holidays either.) I’m running from one thing to another, and while I’m in the car, calling on yet another problem. (Blu tooth, no hand-held for me. And I never text and drive.) When I fall into bed, I’m exhausted. Sleep comes too easy.

No wonder my hair is gray.

Yes, I appear to be a maniac on steroids and Ritalin. But here is a Real Truth: People are not wired to do everything. There is no such thing as a super-mom, a super-woman, or a super-person, except perhaps in the world of Marvel.

Yeah, yeah, I bought into that super-woman stuff years ago when my kids were little. I tried my best. I practically lived in my car with those kids, racing from one event to another. After a while, the frustration increases as your sense of self decreases. Things boil and bubble until there’s an explosion (or implosion).

I’m pretty old and not the smartest, but I have learned one thing: Living is all about moderation.

Living is also not about beating yourself up. There are plenty of opportunities out there to get beaten up by outside sources. 🙂

It’s hard, but I try not to beat myself up about anything, including writing/not writing. Some of the time, I’m the most prolific person out there (or it might seem so because I never throw anything away!). But most times I’m just plain *lazy* – i.e. otherwise consumed by some other time sucking activity. Sometimes (like in this last year), I’m just too depressed/angry/worried to write.

Some of the creative out there think they must be doing something creative every single day of the year in order to be considered an artist. I’ve heard some claim that if you cannot play music every day, you’re not a real musician. The thought is that you breathe, so you’re a person, and you have to breathe all the time, ergo you must be playing every day in order to be considered ‘serious.’

Hold your horses, Mozart. What about living?

(Speaking of Mozart, although the man was a genius, the guy was a paid hack. Had to do it in order to survive, and he did a horrible job of it.)

This weekend, I opened my inbox with my Medium daily email and find this lovely post by one of my favorite authors (Michelle Richmond) regarding not writing.

Thank goodness! At last someone admonishing would-be writers out there to go to your son’s ball game or watch a movie with your husband! In my case, it’s stripping and refinishing old doors, digging up my yard, wire weaving, or planting potatoes.

Creating art should not be a chore. Your mind has to be clear and open. Yes, you need your butt to be in a chair (although the thought of a standing work station is very intriguing), but the true artist is creating in her head all the time. As I’m out there pulling up bindweed and dandelions, I’m thinking of plot twists and back story. The Notes section of my iPhone is full of tidbits of information, things I will use later on when the dust settles.

We are so busy in this modern world, attacked by Internet and TV and pretty flashes of content, that we have forgotten how to live. Writers need to live in order for the words to flow and the stories to surface. That’s why I’ve laid off the Twitter and the Facebook and Instagram. Sometimes you have to be you, not the content.

Which brings me back to the video I posted at the top of this, Words, by the BeeGees. In my 6th grade mind, I felt the pop group was telling me to write a story.

Because it’s only words, and words are all I have to take your heart away.

🙂

 

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Poetry Unearthed: Treasures There for the Digging

Posted by Joanne Huspek

elvis

It’s amazing what one can find rooting around in your house.

During a little spring cleaning, I found this poem I’d written a long time ago, between pages 136-137 in this Elvis Costello song book.

This book belongs to my now-husband. We met each other in 1983, at a time when Elvis Costello was all the rage. Such sassy lyrics and danceable rhythms! (I give it a 95…) He wasn’t punk, he wasn’t rock, he wasn’t country or blues, but a strangely pleasing British combination of everything. My husband plays the piano and I was learning at the time. These were difficult songs for a beginning pianist.

I’d written more than a few poems for my husband during the courtship period. I must have written this poem during then, and dropped it into the book, probably hoping he’d fall upon it by chance. (That’s what romantics do; hope for a random slice of kismet to strike the object of their affection just so – preferably during some lonesome dark and stormy night – and thus jump start the yearning.)

(It’s so funny that I titled the poem “Ironies” – because I think of Elvis Costello as being entirely ironic.)

I’d sent my husband the other poems I’d written to him. We dated long distance for two and a half years (Twin Cities – Detroit), before the Internet and cell phones. My long distance bill used to kill me, so I wrote letters nearly every day. But I don’t remember writing this one. I must have slipped it into the songbook soon after finishing it and forgotten all about it.

If a diamond is trapped inside the earth and never sees the light of day is it still a diamond?

I think so.

And now, with a little editing brought to you by 28 years of fermentation, I bring you (parts of):

 

Ironies

Dreams were once so easy, always crystal light,

rich and verdant like springtime glens,

purer than April snow melt.

But that was such a long, long time ago,

so long that you forgot when.

Life was a simple game when you were but a child

and dreams will lose their luster

as you struggle all the while.

Child of promise, child so bright;

they think you don’t need help.

They leave you to yourself.

Oh, how they want you to grow straight and tall.

Sometimes it’s a wonder to grow at all.

On a trip to see your sister

you marveled at the comfortable little house,

overgrown with plants, the babes all around, the simple style.

You long to own that easy smile.

But easy doesn’t come to you the way it comes to everyone else.

You choose to sleep alone at night

though men profess to love you some,

your heart is frozen in time and space

you’re holding out for that special one.

He’s beautiful and funny,

sensitive and wise,

but can he love that stranger inside you,

that darker spirit that lies within?

What will they say when it’s over and done

before your ashes meet a Rockies’ sun?

Will the eulogy be

“The woman was a saint.”

“She was a martyr too.”

For she waited her love

for someone like you.

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Writing for Fun OR Profit

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Please take careful note of the title. Writing for fun OR profit. Not fun AND profit. Because I’m not sure you can do both at the same time.

I had been thinking a lot about this recently. I had quite the nonproductive last nine months. A reverse gestational period, if you must, where ideas didn’t germinate and blossomed, but withered and died. Not to beat a dead horse to pulp, but personal issues, work issues, and attempting a major re-write of a completed novel that I thought was ready to go killed the creative spirit in me. I didn’t write for eight months (except the occasional blog post) and couldn’t create any jewelry for nearly that long.

I became grayer over the rewrite (which wasn’t a bad idea, just not a good idea for this particular story) and sunk into a writerly depression. I over analyzed my characters and my work to where I couldn’t see past the task at hand. I began to hate them, and myself. I didn’t know why I was attempting this rewrite. (Add some spice? Reflect current events? Maybe turn my story into something Hollywood would love?) And a funny thing happened: the story that took me only 30 days to write and that had given me great joy while doing so was now becoming a huge boulder hanging from my neck. I groaned every time I opened the file.

In other words, writing was no longer fun. (I hope lightning doesn’t strike me dead. Better find a ground wire.)

I’m not saying life should be a bowl of cherries and a day at the beach (I know, cliches, give me a break) every day, every minute. Life just isn’t like that. It’s freakishly hard and heartbreakingly sad. Life never goes the way you think it will. NEVER. Even when you’re my age. Even if you have money. The problems just get more complex, therefore taking more time and energy.

It’s the same with work. Take my day job (please!). I really don’t mind it. It’s interesting. I get to problem solve. I find that I’m good writing business letters and can keep a fairly mean spreadsheet, formulae and all. I interact with customers, which sometimes is a joy. I keep my husband (kinda-sorta – the jury is still out on that one) in line so that his part of the business doesn’t fall to pieces.

But if you find yourself (as I do) being ground to powder by the mean customers, if your aggravation exponentially increases with every bonehead move your employees make (over and over, and over), if you put in seven days a week and your rewards don’t seem to reflect the effort you put in, if the self-satisfaction isn’t there, it’s difficult to be engaged.

So.

I have since decided I have to stop looking at both my day job and my writing as a profit making venture. I have to see these activities as creations I have control over, and not let the outside world rule what is happening inside my head.

You see, I was much happier writing for the sheer fun of it. When I started writing online about ten years ago, writing was an exercise in joy. The ideas flowed easier. I often wondered how I could blog post off the top of my head while working, and realize that it’s because I was having a great time doing it. Sometimes I go back to those posts and think, “Damn, that was good!”

Perhaps some people can write for fun and profit, but I can’t. And since it’s that way for me, I’d rather write for fun.

🙂

booksandauthors

P.S. The other day, I received an email from BookBaby (where my eBook sales originate) informing me that they were making a deposit into my checking account. I hadn’t ever withdrawn anything from my BookBaby, ever. Surprise, surprise, it was a tidy little sum! Not that I will become greedy and think to write for profit again. Nope. I’m writing for unexpected gravy.

 

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Writing Class: What I Learned From Michelle Richmond

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Recently I took an eight-week online master writing class with Michelle Richmond. You know her. Author of The Year In Fog. And other wonderful works.

words

I am a HUGE proponent of taking classes. I’ve been known to take music classes (piano, violin), art classes (both in college and after), and plenty of writing classes online. For God’s sake, I’ve been in the same wire wrapping class for the last five-plus years, and I’m not ever giving that one up.

It’s not that I’m stupid or dense. It’s not that I’m a stalker (although I felt that way at first with Michelle, because I have to be one of her hugest fans. I have almost all her books including the reference material and writing workbooks).

Life is a constant state of learning. Learning keeps your grey matter hopping. I can almost feel the electrons coursing through my brain when I’m in any class. I want to learn. I need to learn. And I’m not so full of myself that I think I can’t learn something new. The nice thing about being my age (finally! a plus!) is that you appreciate education and you’re in the class for your own benefit, not to score a grade. If you join a class, you are reaching out, for guidance, for knowledge. As I told my kids when they were attending college and experiencing difficulty, the instructor is there for YOU. YOU extract whatever information he/she has, whether he/she wants to give it to you or not.

Classroom situations are nice. You get to compare and contrast. You’re allowed to try and fail, and learn from your mistakes (or as they say in the jewelry world – design change). But if you’re a working adult, it’s hard to carve out time for a class for which you must physically be present. Online classes might not be the answer either. It’s tougher with online classes because you rarely see what the others are doing. At least with the master class, we had a once-weekly video meeting. It was so helpful to interact with the other students, to have Michelle offer her words of wisdom in real time, and to read other writers’ work.

To be a good student, you have to be able to listen to criticism, weigh it, and to make adjustments. This is especially true of anything having to do with the creative. I remember taking my first drawing class at the University of Minnesota. I’d always been so-so at drawing and painting, and hadn’t yet declared a major. Drawing was a class to fill my schedule.

My professor liked my work. He would stand behind my easel, his hand on his chin, and after a few minutes, offer a comment like “Try this.” or “Consider this.” Having only taken art classes in high school where it was a free-for-all, I was unused to constructive criticism. I learned then what a good thing it was to get input on your work from different eyes. I had always believed I was meh– not good enough. This professor actually convinced me to major in studio arts.

Now…for Michelle Richmond…

The first thing I learned? Read your email. Then reread your email. I missed the first video class because I somehow thought the meeting time was later than it was. (East Coast/West Coast mistake. Happens all the time, as my son lives in San Francisco. I love when he calls or texts me at 3 in the morning Eastern, just as I’m sure he loves it when I call or text him at 7 a.m. Eastern.)

The second thing I learned: A series of scenes does not a novel make. I’ve been working on various incarnations of this story for the last couple of years. I have a handwritten book full of scenes. I know what is going to happen – sort of. I really needed to figure out a beginning, middle, and end. Since I had three characters, I had to decide which was the protagonist. (I’d started out writing all three as the protagonist.) Through the weekly exercises, I learned who was the strongest and who was expendable.

I also learned there will be one common thread that draws the three characters together. Now I just have to weave the story line. I call this the “Story by Quilt” phase. Pick one thread and move it slightly to the next patch.

The third thing I learned: Don’t be afraid to do something out of the ordinary. Our last assignment was to write the final chapter. I hadn’t even thought of the final chapter, much less what I was going to do with it. What I learned in skipping over to the end was that 1. it was enormously fun to write, and 2. I’m going to rethink my original rather foggy plans for the end.

I also learned (also from a workshop at the San Francisco Writers Conference) that it’s preferable to have a title that depicts what may happen in the story. I’m not bad at writing a story, but I stumble at headlines and titles. (Remember, it took almost the two years I wrote Finding Cadence to finalize the title.) My new working title will be Bridging the Intersection of Truth and Casualty. Subject to change at any time, of course.

I needed those eight weeks with Michelle. I needed the kick in the pants, because my writer’s block was becoming a nuisance. I needed the camaraderie of other writers, to get out of my little cave. I needed to hear encouraging words from strangers regarding what I was doing.

Classes are learning experiences. They can also save your life.

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Busy, Business, Busy-ness

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I haven’t really fallen off a turnip truck and am suffering from amnesia, but we can always pretend. It’s just that I’ve been majorly overwhelmed. Pulled in too many directions all at once. Which makes me feel rushed. Which makes me feel cranky.

passportphotoAs you can see, I’ve had this face since the beginning.

This is not an excuse (I’m lazy, yes we know), but just to update you on what’s been happening:

Busy

I just finished taking a writing course with Michelle Richmond. It was not only fun and interesting, being in this small group of writers gave me the sufficient kick in the pants that I needed to get the story rolling. I’ve been working on this concept for the last year and a half, with nothing to show but several scenes sketching out my characters and what happens to them. Getting into a class where there are assignments really got me thinking about what I want to say with this particular novel.

Being in a class was great, but I found the one-hour video classes really invigorating. (Even though I’m terribly unphotogenic and with all the windows in the house, there’s really no good room to sit in and not have glare bouncing off the screen. Very distracting.) Writers, we need each other to compare and contrast our work. I’m a huge proponent of taking classes, even if the class is not in your genre. It’s a good exercise to step out of your comfort zone and try something new.

Virtually Yours Forever will be released this year. Even if I have to jump through hoops of fire! Even if I must walk through a football field of broken glass!

I have also spent the month compiling the next book. This one is narrative non-fiction, from years of online posts I’ve made – as another person. Some of the essays were extremely dated and did not make the cut, but it was amazing to see that many of my opinions are still relevant all these years later. I’ll probably publish under a pen name, as this is pretty racy stuff!

Business

What would life be without the business of it? In the Day Job, things are picking up with the onset of spring. Everyone wants to drive now. My husband is ready to schedule Christmas classes (say it ain’t so!). I’m feeling so cosmically windblown, I’d like to retire T-O-D-A-Y. (That’s not looking like an option at this time.)

As for the business of writing, I’m seriously thinking of starting my own publishing company. Thanks to attending many workshops during the San Francisco Writers Conference and after joining IBPA, I’ve decided to consolidate my creative work into one company. When I get a moment to breathe and to accomplish this feat, I will let you know the status.

Busy-ness

I am always on the move, whether it’s writing, working, or working in my yard. Winter is not completely over, but I’m getting my garden ready. I find that turning dirt into edibles a fulfilling enterprise. Plus I get the best ideas while I’m weeding and planting. Currently, I’m starting seeds indoors. (It’s snowed on Mothers Day before, so I’m taking no chances!) I found a wonderful place for seeds you don’t normally get at the local nursery, like many types of bok choy, wasabi, and others. My angel trumpet also had one seed pod, so I will be planting them, too. (Like I need 75 more angel trumpet plants.)

Other than that, life is life, and a writer’s life usually includes more life than a person can deal with. The upside is that I will never want for inspiration!

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San Francisco Writers Conference Wrap Up

Posted by Joanne Huspek

This year’s San Francisco Writers Conference has had to have been the best one ever!

I know, I know. So how bad could it be? It’s in San Francisco, my favorite place on the planet, full of things to do and perfect weather and food to die for. It’s at the Mark Hopkins, which is swank city. The bedding is like sleeping on a cloud, and the soaps and shampoos make you feel rich and pampered. And the conference food isn’t half bad! At the conference, you’re surrounded by writers and agents and editors and people with the knowledge you don’t have, and the enthusiasm is contagious. This conference rolls around just when I need it – a welcome break from the rigors of a Michigan winter. (I like sunshine and flowers, in case you haven’t noticed.) This was my eighth conference, and needless to say, I am never bored. Michael Larsen and Elizabeth Pomada round up the best people for their workshops, and it’s so hard to choose one presentation over the other.

This year I concentrated on workshops going over the business of writing, especially dealing with copyrights and self-publishing. I learned so much from attorney Helen Sedwick, who was extremely nice. I also joined the Independent Book Publishers Association after attending their seminar. It’s not expensive, and the information is voluminous. I’m also considering a run at non-fiction publishing – it depends on when I can find some spare time to dive into it.

I tell this to every writer I know: Go to a writers conference! I can only afford to go to one a year, and this is the one for me. Yes, it’s expensive, and yes, you might think you don’t have any time for it, but trust me. You will learn so much, so worth whatever it costs in money. You’ll get out of your garret for one weekend and make friends and compare notes. You’ll be energized by the positive buzz and leave ready to write again. (I did.)

Warning: Personal Horn Tooting Approaching

I usually submit something for the writing contest SFWC holds, usually the first few pages of my work in progress. (Finding Cadence was a finalist one year!) This year, however, I was woefully lacking in new material. I hadn’t really written anything new since May of last year, thanks to personal issues and a bad case of writer’s block (and probably being depressed, let’s not forget that). Over the winter, I began the process of putting my poetry into digital form. There’s a lot of it, and I can’t trust yellow typewritten pages in a raggedy notebook much longer. A notebook that sat in my basement for ten years while I wondered where the hell it was because it was jammed in a box of my daughter’s things and why would I look in there?

So I picked out a poem that was dear to my heart (one about my parents), typed it up, and entered the poetry section of the contest a few days before the deadline in January. Then I forgot about it.

Fast forward to my trip to San Francisco in mid-February. I’m waiting in Dallas for my connecting flight and decide to check out the SFWC website. Where I see my poem had been named as a finalist!

Obviously, I was thrilled, just as thrilled as when my novel had placed. But…I’m a realist. I never win anything. (I dragged my husband to a slot machine I was playing, and HE wins the Harley.) I’m always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Imagine my surprise and wonder when my name was announced as the winner!

firstprize

One hundred dollars! And a rush of pride!

Here’s the photo of all the winners:

all of the awards

And one of me and Laurie McLean at the party later that night:

me and laurie

(Photos courtesy Artstudio23.com)

I’m explaining to her that I wrote my poem in 1977 and I hoped that was okay that I recycled it. 🙂 Which goes to show you that good writing never goes bad. (Find my prize winning poem HERE.)

After the conference, I spent a week with my son. We ate like pigs and walked many beaches in search of the elusive beach glass. In the end, we went back to Muir Beach and spent 2 1/2 hours bending over and picking up a bounty of glass as the tide was going out.

Now I’m back to work, writing a new novel in a class with Michelle Richmond.

And I feel GREAT! I’ve gotten my mojo back! It’s going to be a wonderful year to write.

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Is It Writer’s Block? or Is It Depression?

Posted by Joanne Huspek

xdepression

Above: A fairly accurate representation of the inside of my head right now.

I recently read a very good blog post by the legendary Chuck Wendig regarding writer “self-care.” The post wasn’t so much about self-care as it was about an affliction many artists suffer from, at least on an occasional basis, and that is depression.

This post was so timely and so good, I had to bookmark it. I read it over at least a half dozen times. I tweeted it. I talked to other writers about it. That’s because we have all experienced the dreaded ‘writer’s block.’ However, Mr. Wendig draws the comparison from the blockage to depression, which is a pretty astute connection.

One that I had not thought about until I read his blog post.

Normally, I have too many thoughts in my head, so many that I can barely get a few onto paper. But there are times when I am totally devoid of creative thought, and that bothers me, especially if I find myself unable to create after a few months. I call these episodes being ‘extremely uninspired.’ It’s a major pain in the ass to think, much less form words or make jewelry.

Well, folks, I hate to admit this, but I have been unable to create for the last few months. Maybe six. And my inability to create might not be from blockage, but is likely from depression.

That’s not to say I have been in bed all day, filling my head with insipid reality shows (although I must confess that Judge Judy and Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares are especially entertaining). I’ve been depressed before; it’s not a big deal to admit it. The era of the ‘shame’ of mental disorders has thankfully passed. If one is sick, one goes to the doctor; it’s the same with depression.

I must admit that it has been extremely stressful around here lately, and stress doesn’t help with psychic well-being. I also have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), so I am well-aware how my mood changes with the seasons. I can feel the sadness turn into something deeper, and that’s when I act. I start my prescription in August, but antidepressants aren’t the total answer. As fall turns to winter and as the daylight hours shorten, I have to (vehemently) tell myself to get out of bed. To do the laundry. To shop for groceries. To get gas. To go to work. To work out. To go to my class. To make dinner. To be somewhat sociable.

If I didn’t nag myself into action, then yes, I’d be in bed watching Judge Judy. All. Day. Long.

While I’m waiting for my inspiration to be ignited, I putter. I read. I pull out an old manuscript or an old story and perhaps work on it. Half the time, I don’t have the memory of writing any of these stories. I’ve been writing random new scenes, for a novel I hope to cobble together someday. I did last year’s NaNoWriMo, and I’ve signed myself up for an online novel writing class, just to get out of my shell. (It’s embarrassing to have so many manuscripts that are unedited and undone.) On the jewelry side, I will get out my jewels and rocks and look at them, maybe evaluate some of the smaller pieces I’ve started and never finished. I force myself into action.

I force myself to breathe. (That’s tough to accomplish when you’re depressed.) Square breathing is essential for calm.

Mr. Wendig’s blog post reminds us as writers that we are human, too. WE need tender loving care, in order to create. WE give ourselves a high bar to reach for, instead of giving ourselves a break. WE take reviews and comments too personally, instead of letting these things slough from our backs. WE feel the need to produce, or we will be ‘less than.’

Sometimes ‘producing’ might be thinking about writing or creating. Whenever I’m not producing, I’m thinking about future creativity. And that’s okay.

Writers, cut yourself some slack. We are not super-human. Even the greats are/were not super-human. Believe me, a lot more people are depressed than you would think. For most of us, the fog will lift and things will get better.

Do the best you can, with what you have, and keep going.

Take care of yourself, and keep going.

Live, learn, and love, and keep going.

To keep going is the only way to get unstuck.

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