The Writing Process · Travel

A Day of Rest

02_07_2020

Today I stayed in because I felt run down and tired. Also, my ankle was throbbing. I twisted it the Saturday before I left Tampa. Walking 6.9 miles and climbing the equivalent of nine flights of stairs the day before in Montreux didn’t help. While it felt as if I was missing out, I knew it would be better for the rest of my trip.

Part of me thinks that the pace here in Switzerland invited me to slow down. There seems to be tranquility here that I can’t quite explain. I feel it when I walk along the lake paths or through the city center. I even feel it on the trains and metro between five and six o’clock. There isn’t the same type of hustle and bustle felt in New York or London traveling at the same time. It isn’t that the Swiss people aren’t in a hurry to get wherever they are going. It’s as if they are just calmer about it. It made me think about the stance of neutrality that Switzerland has always taken. Perhaps the people who live here are more at peace with themselves in general. Of course, it’s hard not to be affected by the beauty of the Alps and Lake Geneva.

There are several things I’ve noticed since I have been here.

The public toilets are extraordinarily clean. Each stall has its own little room with a cleaning solution that you can spray on toilet paper to clean the seat and a toilet brush. It’s strange to be writing it, but it’s such a contrast to my first experience with a European toilet almost forty years ago. Back then, our school recommended we bring toilet paper on our trip. That didn’t prepare me for the one time I walked into a public restroom and found a place for your feet and a drain of sorts. Of course, I’ve been in other toilets in other European countries, and they have had varying levels of cleanliness. But here they seem to be very consistent.

Another thing I noticed is that I feel more personally relaxed. I actually took a two-hour nap, which is very unlike me. If I had been at home, I probably would have spent that time watching Netflix. Or I would have felt the need to do something in spite of my body telling me it needed to rest.

It may also be strange to note that I have felt comforted by how many people of color I’ve seen. As a person of color, you don’t always know how you will be perceived or treated when you travel. In the States, you have an idea of what to expect in certain places. You are better able to read your surroundings. But when traveling abroad with a language barrier, it feels as if you’re at a disadvantage. But I’ve felt very welcomed here. It also helps to see several people that look like me even though we don’t speak the same language.

All in all staying in was a good idea even though my meals were a mix of highs and lows.

For lunch, I ordered the pan-seared perch. I wanted to see if there was a significant difference between perch from Lake Geneva and the Great Lakes. I was a little disappointed. The perch tasted oily. At first, I thought it might have been because of how it was cooked. But growing up, we eat fried perch, and I don’t remember the fish itself having an oily texture. It was unpleasant enough that I didn’t finish it and eat my salad instead.

Dinner, on the other hand, was a delight. I had a pizza with Prosciutto and mushrooms. The smells alone sent me swooning. I was a bit worried about whether or not I was going to be able to eat gluten. But neither the roll I eat at lunch or bread I eat the night before made me sick, so I pushed the food envelope a bit further. Biting into the crisp crust made every gluten-free, diary-free pizza I’ve eaten in the past few years seem like a cruel joke. Even though I know it’s only a matter of time before it all catches up with me, I love being able to eat pretty much what I want.

The Writing Process

How to Start Your Writing Project

You decided to write a book. The ideas were there, but disappeared the moment you opened a new Word document. Now the only thing standing in the way of you being the next New York Times bestseller author is actually start your writing project.

What to do?

Turn off the computer and return to talking about the book you’re going to write someday. It’s way easier. Or take a deep breath and trust the process.

The process

We want to believe inspiration or muses are necessary for the words to flow on the page. But inspiration is a temperamental, and muses are unpredictable. The writing process — planning, writing and revising— is steadfast and dependable. Do the work, and the words will come.

Back when I taught composition and advanced writing, I’d start the semester by writing a boiled-down version of the process on the board — pre-write, write, and re-write.

Pre-write – explore and research the subject you what to write about. Write – draft your take on the information you collected. Re-write/rethink your understanding based on feedback and expanded information brought up by your discovery through the writing process.

Each step is necessary to write well. But to start a writing project you have to pre-write or plan. Failing to prewrite is one of the quickest ways to derail your writing before you even get started.

So, what is pre-writing?

Prewriting builds a blueprint for your project by collecting the necessary information to start writing. Begin by examining your intentions. What question are you trying to answer? What problem do you want to solve? Is there specific information you want to share? What do you want readers to learn or think? What related experiences have you had or heard about? What’s the current buzz? Do you agree or disagree with the popular thinking? What’s your take on the subject?

This is the point of the process where I start a dedicated notebook to jot down ideas. A lot of what’s in this notebook never makes it to the story, essay or blog. The notes are there to help me sort out my thinking and figure out what I know and what I don’t know.

Research

That leads right into the research portion of planning. Start a list of questions that need to be answered. Read what others have written on the subject. Be careful not to get lost in the research or hung up because other writers seem to know more.

If you’re writing fiction, research can include learning about your characters. You can discover a ton about by interviewing them. It may seem weird, but pretend the two of you are having coffee. Ask questions. Are they forth coming? Or reluctant to share? How are they dressed? What do they do for fun? Do they have any pet peeves? Where did they grow up? Some suggest finding out what’s in their refrigerator, but honestly that doesn’t work for me. I couldn’t tell you what’s in my own refrigerator. The important thing is to answer questions help you discover who the characters are.

Research can help you develop your setting and various plot points. Maybe you need to investigate the time period or the city where the story takes place. Recently, I researched the Greek mythology of the muses for a short story. I learned that there were nine muses and that they were the product of a nine-day “relationship” with Zeus and Mnemosyne. I didn’t use any of that in the story but it helped me to think more broadly about the plot.

Another part of pre-writing and planning is what I like to call playtime. For fiction, I write vignettes with my characters to see how they react in different situations. Often these vignettes turn into larger scenes. For non-fiction, I take the raw information and do a forty-five minute free-write to see where it goes. During the process of free writing, you may discover how much you have to say on the subject. You might also discover the piece isn’t about what you thought it would be.

So while prewriting may seem tedious, it gets you one step closer to your goal of being that best selling author.

Now, close this blog and start.

The Writing Life · The Writing Process

Why You Should Be Writing

This past weekend my husband and I spent the day in St. Petersburg. We had lunch at this really cool restaurant called The Library, which by the way was built by his company. We toured another one of his projects under construction, before heading to the Chihuly Museum.

To say the glass was breathtaking would be an understatement, but what I hadn’t expected was the words of wisdom Dale Chihuly shared in the film about his work. 

One section of the film focused on the creation of the Chihuly Light of Jerusalem 2000 at the Tower of David Museum. Chihuly made a comment about how much the world needed art and how he hoped the exhibit might play a part in bringing Jews and Arabs together. Chihuly believed art had that kind of power. It made me think about writing. 

Our stories can help heal the world, but only if we actually write them.  

Remember the courage, inspiration, comfort, and healing you received from a book. What if the author allowed fear, procrastination, or a myriad of other excuses to stop her from sitting down and writing her book done? 

There are so many reasons not to write, but you and I both know they’re just fear and doubt dressed in fancy clothes. See them for what they are and write anyway.

Want to know why? 

It’s what you want to do. 

You love the power of words. You play with ideas in your head. You scribble in your journal. You feel the magic of pen to paper — clicking of keys. You know there’s something inside dying to come out. Don’t stop it. Write.

Writing gives us space to reflect. It helps clears the foggy. We can express things we couldn’t or wouldn’t say out loud. It allows us to the opportunity to look beneath the surface at who we are and what we really feel. We can be neurotic, obsessive, and plain old weird without risk of judgment. Well, you might judge yourself. I’ve looked back at some of my old journals and been like, girl you need to burn that shit. But more often than not, those pages reflect the course of my own healing. Writing has taught me how to be more compassionate with myself and others. 

This happened to me while I was working on a novella about my paternal grandparents for my graduate thesis. My faculty advisor pointed out that the character modeled after my great-grandfather was flat. He challenged me to really look into him as a person.

To be honest, I couldn’t imagine seeing him as anything more than the abusive, mean man that I had always heard about. He never said much to me as a young girl, but my grandmother told me many stories about the vicious way he would beat her mother. But as I began to write more about him, I tried looking at the world through his eyes. I began to see the way life in rural Mississippi beat him down as a black man. That wasn’t an excuse for him to beat my great grandmother, but it let me see where his anger may have come from. For the first time, I began to feel some compassion for him. 

You owe it to yourself to see where your writing will go.

We all have ideas and solutions in our head that just sit there. Television and technology sometimes make us lazy. We allow ourselves to be entertained rather than to create, explore, or invent. 

That book or movie which was just like an idea you had is a cautionary tale of exactly why you should be writing. You sat on it. The other person took a chance. Stop thinking about it. Start writing.

In the words of every Nike commercial you’ve ever seen — just do it.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

The Writing Process

Five Easy Steps to Write Fearlessly

What’s the biggest obstacle to writing? 

The writer. 

Sitting down to write often means coming face to face with our doubts and fears. I’m not a real writer. I don’t know enough. How can I possibly say anything that hasn’t been said better by the experts? What if I get it wrong? Does my idea even make sense? What if my mother reads it? What if she doesn’t? What will people think of me? What if it sucks? And on and on.

I totally get it. In fact, I’ve lived it. A great idea will strike. I optimistically jot down notes. Doubt creeps in as I do my research and it is on full tilt by the time I write the first sentence. If I manage to get beyond that round of fear, a more powerful version kicks in as I make my way through the first draft. It manifests as is-it-any-good and/or what-will-people-think. One of two things happen. I either edit out the parts that made me fearful or I stop writing.

Four years ago, I started an essay about learning to live with my natural hair. The original essay dove deep into my insecurities about the texture of my hair and myself as an African-American woman. It asked some really poignant questions, and then I backed off. I told myself I needed more research on the history of black hair in the United States. And once I did the research, I couldn’t figure out how the additional information fit into my story. So, I stopped working on it. It’s sad to think about the pieces that have died a slow death because of self-doubt and fear.

But interestingly enough something happened. I discovered my writing only works when I write from a place of vulnerability. As the saying goes, feel the fear and do it anyway. 

I’m not suggesting that writing from a place of vulnerability is easy because it’s not. It’s really hard. There will be tears, and maybe a bit of nausea. But it will be true. It will be real.

I recently went back to the essay about my hair. I wondered what would happen if I just wrote it in spite of my doubts and fears. Here are five practical tips that helped me move from doubting myself to writing fearlessly:

Make room for yourself to write authentically.

Find a place where you feel safe to explore your thoughts deeply. There are times when I write best in my home office. It’s comfortable. I’m surrounded by my favorite things with the added bonus of not having to ask someone to watch my computer when I go to the restroom. Other days I love being lost in the anonymity of a crowded coffee shop. It feels less lonely than my office, and I don’t have to let the dogs in and out twenty times.

Stay seated.

I can’t emphasis this one enough. Keeping your behind in the chair goes a long way when you’re trying to write fearlessly. It forces you to face the challenge on the page. When you have the urge to get up or go do something else, ask yourself what is it about this work that makes you uncomfortable? Sometimes it’s because of the emotions it evokes. Or the approach to the work could be the issue. Either way, don’t let yourself off the hook so quickly. Set a specific time limit or word count and stay seated until you have achieved your daily goal.

Allow yourself to make mistakes.

Nothing stops our work died in its tracks faster than perfectionism. We have a vision of what the work should be. When it misses the mark, we get frustrated. This often happens because we set unrealistic expectations for ourselves to write like someone else. This is a big one for me. I have a ton of friends who are wonderful writers. I worry that my stuff isn’t as good as theirs. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t. But we will never improve unless we actually do the work. Our mistakes become our guide. 

Own who you are.

Self-doubt can make you question your ability. You may worry that you don’t have the right education or experience to write well. So, you buy more books or take another class. But nothing will makes as big of a difference as accepting who you are as a writer. Even after several books, countless classes, and two master degrees, I still doubted myself as a writer. It took me a long time to realize that if you write, you’re a writer. The world needs our story and we are the only one who can tell it.

Celebrate yourself.

Honor your accomplishments, no matter the size. I love to set a reward for myself at the end of a writing session. Go shopping. Get my nails done. Or lately, watch my favorite Netflix show without guilt.

Making a decision to write fearlessly may result in the best writing you have ever done. It’s worth it to at least try it. 

The Writing Life · The Writing Process

Back to Blogging

I’m blogging again.  It’s been a while. I could list a multitude of excuses as to why, but that would serve no real purpose other than to make me feel better. So I’ll spare you.

Since my last blog, I relocated from Atlanta to Tampa. My transition included two apartments, one townhouse, six offers to buy or sell, the purchase of one house and the sale of another, and a storage unit with more boxes than will ever fit in our current home. 

Fortunately, the last two years has also included quite a bit of travel. Most trips have been two to three day little jaunts, accompanying my husband on his business trips. But there have also been a few fun girls trips and lots of wine tasting. My friends and family have gotten so used to me traveling that they frequently start our conversations by asking where I am or when is my next trip.  My life coach teased me once by saying, “Girl, you need to start a travel blog.”

“I should,” I said jokingly.

Although the idea appealed to me, there were a hundred reasons why it wouldn’t work. I didn’t have anything new to contribute to the ton of travel blogs that already exist. Sure, I could write about what to wear to get through TSA quickly or how to efficiently packing a carry-on for multiple events. That’s hardly enough to sustain a blog and not that interesting.

But then I thought about the blog I wrote two years ago. It was a travel blog of sorts. It didn’t give advice about where to stay or what to see. Instead, it talked about how my travel experience affected how I saw myself. (Here’s Vacation Blue, if you missed it.)

I pondered and played with ways to turn this into a travel blog. I even wrote a practice blog about my trip to Portland, Oregon, and spent nearly a month working on a transition piece explaining why I was switching to a travel blog.

But something didn’t feel right.

It felt as if I was moving in the wrong direction. I blamed my discomfort on the fact that I couldn’t get the domain name I wanted. But deep down, I knew I was missing the point. I’m not a travel blogger.

Travel is a big part of my life, but what stirs my soul is encouraging other women to write. That’s why I started this blog in the first place. I wanted to inspire writers, provide positive encouragement, and create a supportive community.

A lot of those ideas actually grew into Minerva Rising Press. Consequently, much of my time is spent editing and publishing women writers in our journals and books. But there is still a personal need to reflect on my own writing and life in general.

So what gives? Why haven’t I been able to sustain the work of this blog?

The answer —  a lack of self-acceptance and an unwillingness to work in the face of uncertainty.

It’s a challenge to write in such a public forum. There’s a fear that the work isn’t good enough and/or that people will reject it and you (the writer). Or that you will be judged for what you share. You have to learn to be comfortable with uncertainty. The work may or may not be good. And people may or may not like you.

Truth is, neither one matters. Your job as a writer is to learn to do the work.

The work stands alone. It isn’t about what anyone thinks of it or if anyone likes you. It’s about actually doing the work. It’s about the process. And the funny thing is, the more you do work, the better it becomes.

I know I make excuses, good excuses — family, responsibilities, commitments, and grief — not to do the work. I also fear being the writing won’t be very good, and/or no one will actually read it. The finished product ends up being the only thing that’s valued.

When we are called to write, it’s not about what others think or even who will read it. It’s about what the process teaches us. We learn to write by writing. Our failures and mistakes are as essential to our growth as our successes. And you can’t make mistakes if you don’t do the work.

“…all art is about starting again.”  —David Bayles &Ted Orland, Art and Fear.

So, I’m back to doing to the work. I hope that as I challenge myself to get back to my desk, you will too.   

Grieving · The Writing Process

The Story Only You Can Tell

Two weeks from today I will hop on an Airbus A340-600 and head across the pond. First stop London. I will finally see my daughter, who I haven’t seen since the beginning of January. And after a quick three-day tour of London, my family and I will begin our five country, fourteen-day tour.

A bit ambitious, but exciting.

In preparation, I have been obsessing over two things: how to pack two-week’s worth of clothes in a carry-on and what camera lens to take. While there is probably some connection I could make between my clothes challenge and writing, but I don’t see it. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t gotten much further than deciding on what color jeans to pack – black, dark blue-wash and gray, in case you’re wondering.

The decision on a camera lens, on the other hand, relates to some of the same choices I make as a writer.

So, here’s the issue. I have a macro lens and a telephoto lens, which for the most part fit my photography needs. I could pack both and go on my merry way. But who wants to lug around two heavy pieces of equipment when they may or may not be the right tools to convey the story I want to tell.

Which begs to question, what story am I trying to tell.

It’s easy to take the typical vacation pictures everyone takes. The person standing a distance from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, pretending to hold it up. The one where someone has the Eiffel Tower between his thumb and pointer finger. Or the perfectly centered postcard-type shot of some landmark. They all record the trip, but they don’t share anything about the traveler.

A great photo reflects the eye of the photographer, revealing her soul through the emotion she evokes and the sense of time and place she creates. It tells a story only that photographer can tell.

As writers, you and I are called to write the stories only we can write. We could write more generic pieces, but that doesn’t reveal who we are or allow the reader to connect with a real person. Also, we miss the beauty of revelation when we gravitate toward more popular or familiar ways of seeing. The writing may be more difficult, but it’s far more interesting to write and to read.

In some ways, it’s easier for me to reveal my soul as a photographer than as a writer. My photos focus on beauty while my writing tries to make sense of pain. It feels as if there is more to lose when I share my thoughts in words.

But then I’m reminded of a photograph I took of my son several years ago. I’ve always loved the picture, but it wasn’t until after his death that I understood why. That photo of Matt  captures both his beauty and his pain.

Back when I took that picture, I would often step into the shadows to photograph my children moving naturally through their life. I wanted to tell the story of who they were while growing up. Unfortunately, they hated those types of photographs and started calling me a stalker. They became hyper-alert whenever I picked up my camera, so I couldn’t take pictures unobserved. Instead I would have to beg them to pose for a photo, which always ended in bickering between the three of them. As a result,  I took less and less pictures of them individually and collectively.

This trip to Europe is a special trip for my family. The last time we took a major trip it was our first Christmas after Matt’s death. All we wanted was a distraction. And when I picked up the camera, I focused on the ocean, sunrises and sunsets. It soothed my broken heart. I avoided candid, unobserved shots. It broke my heart to see the pain written on my children’s faces when no one was looking.

Perhaps I’ve been obsessing over camera lens because I want to remember this trip as more than a list of sites seen. I want to tell the story of healing and hope. That’s why I decided to take both lens. And just case I see something neither of those lens cover, I bought another one.

Now all I have to do is figure the clothes thing out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Writing Life · The Writing Process

Why you may need to implode your story

One perk of being married to someone in construction management is getting to witness the different phases of building a building. I have been to ground breakings, looked down gigantic holes at poured footings and walked through completed buildings noting unfinished punch-list items before the final walk-through.  All the while learning  the lingo and gaining enough knowledge to be dangerous.

Sunday, I got to watch the implosion of the 14-story Georgia Archive building. The boom of the explosives followed by the collapsing of the building is oddly exhilarating and a little frightening.

Afterwards, I sat in as my husband and his colleagues watched several videos  of the implosion and debriefed. It was fascinating to learn that every step of the 15 seconds process was expected and accounted for, including which way the building fell. It got me to thinking about how imploding our writing may be the very thing we need to build a better story.

As a writer, it’s important to consider the structure of your piece. There are times when the current form doesn’t accurately frame or support the ideas. It may be necessary to implode the whole thing to build a better structure.

One of the witnesses to the implosion Sunday noted during an interview that he didn’t see why they had to tear it down. The witness wasn’t aware that the building was no longer structurally sound or that the state plans to make better use of the land by building a new courthouse complex on the lot.

We might feel the same resistance to tearing down our story, especially if we spent a lot time working on the it. We get attached to our own words, even going as far to call them our ‘babies’.  But sometimes even our best ideas need an overhaul, which may mean blowing the whole thing up.

I recently ran across this very problem while working on the memoir I’m writing about losing my son. Despite the several hours of work, I realized simple revision isn’t going to be enough to savage one of the chapters. It needed to be imploded. That means objectively examining the structure and content to determine why it isn’t working. Then teasing out anything salvageable, which may require thinking about the subject from a different perspective.

Years ago, I wrote a short story about woman who cooks her husband this wonderful dinner the night before she leaves him. The story was written from the perspective of the woman. And not to toot my own horn, but I thought it was a damn good story. Well, unfortunately I was in the minority. A group of writers in one writing workshop thought the protagonist was a bitch for leaving her hard-working husband. For years, I held on to the belief that they just didn’t understand her and continued to submit the story to various literary magazines. Needless to say, not one magazine or journal accepted it. Then a group of writers, who I trusted and respected, suggested I examine the structure and rewrite the story.

I resisted the idea at first, because I didn’t want to destroy what was there. But it had to be done. I looked at the story from the husband’s perspective, which added more texture. I changed the name and resubmitted it to various publications. After a few more rejections, it was published by Mused BellaOnline Literary Review [Read “A Fresh Start”].

Perhaps the story would have found a home in its original form, but the action of imploding my work helped me to grow as a writer. Now I’m not afraid to completely re-think a piece. I see it as playing with the ideas and don’t feel any pressure to get it right.  If it doesn’t work, I try something else.

Fortunately, writing differs from construction in that we can always go back to the way things used to be thanks to wonders of technology. But more often than not, we end up with a stronger and more well-written piece.

 

 

 

 

Community Involvement · The Writing Process

Why Am I Procrastinating?

It’s been four weeks since I posted a blog.

I could go into a long explanation about how busy I’ve been. As executive editor of Minerva Rising Press, I had to prepare for the 2017  AWP Conference, finalize the latest Minerva Rising issue – Fathers, and manage day-to-day operations. All necessary activities, but none require day and night involvement. In addition, my husband and I started a foundation to honor Matt’s life which needs oversight and management. And we won’t even get into being a wife and mother, or the general capriciousness of life.  But even with all of that, not writing my blog is an issue of procrastination, especially in light of how many episodes of House of Cards, This is Us, Timeless and Blackish that were watched within the same four weeks.

When I started working on my MFA back in 2009, I had a thirteen-year old daughter at home, taught writing classes full-time at a small liberal arts college, and lead a women’s Bible study on Saturday mornings, but still found time to write.  Procrastination was never an issue. So, why is it a problem now?

Many believe procrastination is a time-management problem, but the Washington Post article, The real reasons you procrastinate – and how to stop”, suggests it’s more of an emotional management issue. According to Timothy Pychyl, a professor who studies procrastination at Carleton University in Ottawa, the procrastinator believes she must feel good about the task she needs to complete. It becomes an issue of what feels better at the time. The procrastinator gives into the immediate gratification of feeling good in the moment rather than the more fulfilling accomplishment of a completed task.

I am totally an immediate gratification girl. And lately, I’ve been accepting the quick satisfaction of journaling instead of the more complicated blogging.  It’s less risky. No one reads it. My procrastination seems to be an issue of the type of writing I give into, rather than avoiding the task completely.

I spend a lot of time writing in my personal journal. My mornings general consists of devotional time with the Lord, followed by writing my morning pages. The practice of writing three pages in the morning came from The Artist Way. They gave the writer access to  innate creativity through the authentic first thoughts of the morning. For years, this practice provided deep insight into my writing and life in general.  Some of my favorite blogs started on those pages. But lately, there’s an issue of follow-through. Ideas spring up, but never get fully developed. Instead, they lay buried in the pages of my journal.

Don’t miss understand, I am not knocking morning pages. They are what taught me to trust the authenticity of my own voice.  But confining my voice to the privacy of my journal has contributed to my silence on many vital issues in our country. Writing about them gets it off my chest, but it does little to give voice to the voiceless.  Writers most write and publish.

This point was driven home to me as I left the Capital over a week ago while attending AWP. I sensed a need to use my writing for more than processing my life.  As writers, we must stand up for the values we believe in.  We can no longer afford to be silent in this contentious and volatile political climate.

It is much more important for me to write about the experience of being rushed out of Georgia Senators Isackson’s and Perdue’s office after thirty minutes by their aides despite being scheduled to meet for an hour. Or to add my voice in support of the affordable care act, planned parenthood, women reproductive rights and immigrants. And to speak out against racism, sexism, and classism. I need to share my experiences as a grieving mother so that others know they aren’t alone.

Being able to write is a precious gift meant to be shared. There is much work to be done to uphold the beliefs and values that established this country. Everyone must do their part. For some it means organizing or actively engaging in the political process by running for office. For others, it means volunteering or donating to organizations that support the marginalized. And to those of us who write, it means telling the stories that need to be told. It means stepping out of our comfort zone with the hope of expanding minds and changing the conversation. All of that to say I am more committed than ever to using my writing as an act of resistance.

So, even though I’ve been silent for the last four weeks, I’m back in the game.  No more procrastination. Only writing.

The Writing Process

5 Strategies to Overcome Writer’s Block

Imagine this scene . . .

It’s ten in the morning. A woman sits at her desk with a cup of tea. She turns on her computer and opens a Word document.  With fingers hovering over the keyboard, she ponders what to type. Just an hour or so earlier all sorts of idea floated through her mind while she showered.  But as she stares at the screen, her mind goes blank.

Sound familiar?

Of course, it does.

Writer’s block is the enemy of many well-intentioned writers.  It turns the greatest ideas into mush and drives us to that basket of unfolded clothes sitting on the dryer. And while it may be responsible for our spotless kitchen, it does little to soothe the ache to tell our story.

When I first attempted to write this week’s blog, writer’s block hit hard. In fact, it started before I even sat down at my computer.

The hardest part of making a commitment to write and post weekly is figuring out what to write.  And while the adage says – write what you know – it often feels as if all things I know have been written about before, and I don’t have anything new to add.  It would have been quite easy to give in and divert my attention to the front hall closet, which was badly in need of cleaning. But fortunately, my Passion planner was laying open next to me with the weekly focus of self-discipline staring me in the face.

I realized I needed help, so I looked for a writing prompt.  And while I didn’t get my blog done, I did start an essay and a short story about Cinderella. It felt good to overcome writer’s block, but I still had to come up with an idea for this blog.

That’s when I saw this quote on Twitter:

writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all
Charles BukowskiThe Last Night of the Earth Poems

It got me to thinking. I could write about my writer’s block. So here are five strategies to overcome writer’s block:

  1. Stay in the chair. Make a commitment to keep your behind in your seat, writing for a specified amount of time. Set the timer. Record the thoughts running through your mind. I can’t tell you how many times my writing projects start with some variation of the following sentence: I have no idea what to write or how to start this. Nonetheless, as I type out my thoughts, the piece starts to take shape. By the time the timer goes off, I’m well into writing.
  2. Read and annotate. As I type those words, I can almost see my daughter shaking her head and calling me an English teacher nerd. But it works. Reading stimulates our thinking, but we need to catch the thoughts as they are happening. Write questions and responses in the margins. Expand on those ideas in your writing.
  3. Visit an art gallery or museum. Wander through the galleries, paying close attention to what speaks to you and why. This blog came to me yesterday at the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African- American Arts + Culture. Many of the paintings reminded me of my childhood. I made a note in my phone about a painting that was similar to the wallpaper that hung in main room of my great-grandparents house. Another bought back the memory of a wedding gown my grandmother made for one of her customers. I came away from the center with a full writing tank.
  4. Be willing to write a shitty first draft. “Shitty first drafts” is my favorite chapter of Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. It taught me to get over myself and just write. Allow yourself to get the words down, then you can clearly see what the piece is supposed to be. The real work of writing has always been in revision. That’s where you craft the piece into what it’s meant to be.
  5. Make yourself accountable. Share your intention to write with other person or better yet several people. Join a writer’s group. My first novel happened ten pages at a time, because I didn’t want to let down the other members of my writing group. It also helped that one of the members sent frequent emails reminding me of the importance of getting my work done.

Don’t let writer’s block win. Your writing is too important.

Write on, my friends!

 

December Writing Challenge · The Writing Process

Writing and the Procrastinator – Part One

One of the biggest problems I have with writing is staying put in the chair.

Whenever I’m sitting in the chair to write, I want to run. Anything and everything is a void excuse to get up and do something else. And if I make myself stay there, then my back or my neck starts to ache. We won’t even get into the slight pain in my head. It makes me wonder if maybe I’m trying to force a square peg into a round hole.

I question whether of not I am really meant to write. I say I love writing, but it feels like pure torture while I’m doing it. Well, not all the time, but a lot of the time. Does that mean I should be writing? Or is the problem deeper? Or is it simple procrastination?

According to an article posted on Oregon State University’s Academic Success Center’s website that was adapted fromThe Feeling Good Handbook by David Burns, there are six reasons people procrastinate: skill deficit, lack of interest, lack of motivation, fear of failure, fear of success, or rebellion or resistance.

For years, I thought that writing was challenging because I didn’t know enough to do it well. My procrastination was a result of a skill deficit. I went back to school to learn how to write. Two rounds of Graduate school didn’t make writing easier. It taught me that writing well is a skill that takes requires more than just head knowledge. It has to be practiced over many hours with many, many drafts. However, if I’m honest, it’s the drafts that make me feel inadequate as writer. I struggle to get the words right. But that’s a problem most writers have. Anne Lamott even wrote a whole chapter in Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life about “shitty first drafts” that cautions writers about expecting too much from themselves:

I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest friend Tom, he said that you can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.)

Maybe the real issue is the belief that the words should flow easier from brain to page. There shouldn’t be the push and pull of discover and understanding as you write. You shouldn’t have to grapple over meaning. You should just be able to write what you thought you were going write. But it doesn’t always work that way. Writing is discovery. You start off thinking that you are writing about one thing and discover along the way that it’s really about something else entirely. The more you write the more you learn about yourself and your subject. And that takes time.

Some of the resistance to sitting in the chair could be the knowledge that it might take a while to get the work done. And in this instant gratification world with which we live, it’s hard to slow down and work at something. We just want it done.

Today is the perfect example. The plan was to whip this blog off in thirty minutes, then go get my nails done. That was almost two hours ago and I’ve only touched the surface of writing and the procrastinator.

I guess I will save it for tomorrow.  

Until next time. . .