You are my Context

A Note to my Dear Friends:

I found myself sobbing as I wrote a scene in my novel today.  Literally.  Tears were not just welling up in my eyes -- they were running down my cheeks (stage 2 crying).  Then came the knotting up in my chest and the heaving as I was unable to control, to hold back, the emotion (stage 3).  It was a total body reaction to the emotion of the scene.

When I finished the final word, I had to take a breather.  I knew that if the content is truly compelling and if the emotion ends up translating to my potential future readers, they will need a breather after that, too.  The next scene will be brighter.  So I stepped away from the keyboard to put myself in a different place.

I took time to "visit" some friends.

Some have said that the social media is the enemy of the writer -- that the best way to get your novel or screenplay done is to leave the phone off the hook, disconnect the internet, and cancel cable.  I took more of that approach for last year's NaNoWriMo, and I reached my goal -- the completed first draft of my first novel.  It seems to me that I poured more time into writing that than I have with this one; yet, even though I haven't been shunning social media this time around, I've been making my daily word count goals, and I may actually be benefiting from the time I've taken reading friends' blogs, and even checking out a few movie recommendations. 

Today's scene is a case in point.

I knew from my outline that I needed to write about the mysterious flowers my protagonist received on a dreary, rainy Spring day, and how not knowing who had sent them would affect her.  What I didn't know was that a second scene -- at a flower-filled funeral parlor visitation -- would expound on the need for flowers to be rooted to a significant life source if they are to carry any meaning.  I didn't know my protagonist would meet a freshly widowed woman who would dig deep into her soul with a simple musing about her deceased husband's aversion to store-bought flowers.

I didn't know any of that until after I read a friend's blog in which he shared about how he had tried to use flowers to woo his estranged wife back.  As he grappled with how the flowers he sent failed to melt the hardness of her heart, my characters began to speak to me.  They spoke to me throughout the night, and I woke up with this new scene -- a framework in which two hurting women grapple with the meaning of the flowers that surround them.  I'm not sure that I would have ever gone there if I hadn't taken the time to read my friend's blog.

Likewise, conversations on facebook have inspired me as well.  It's all a matter of keeping balance in life.  I think this year's novel just might end up being richer because I'm allowing myself a little more social interaction.  Last year's story was about a very isolated woman, so writing from a place of isolation may have worked for it, but this year I'm thankful for a broader, richer context to foster my creativity.

Even if our conversations don't touch on the subject of my story or the content of any specific scene I write, we are connected.  I don't live or breathe or create in a vacuum.  The quality of my story reflects the quality and texture of the context from which I write...  and since you, my friends, are my context, the story can't help but reflect beauty.

Permission to Write Badly

I know I said I wasn't going to blog during NaNoWriMo, but I feel invigorated. 

Yesterday, I was nowhere near my target word count for the day as of 10:30 pm.  Everything started out so good, and I was running ahead, and then I hit the end of the well-outlined portion and started delving in to parts of the story that were still extremely sketchy in my mind (the second act doldrums, perhaps?) 

So, along with working on several other writing projects simultaneously -- a short film script that is in the early stages of development, one feature film script that's still in the outlining stages, another that I'm typing and doing some minor revisions as I type (my digital copy was destroyed when the hard drive it was on crashed... literally, it crashed to the ground) -- I'm also trying to build a stronger outline before I do too much rambling on this novel.

I panicked, and I must admit I almost gave up and quit.  "This is ridiculous to attempt with so little preparation," I told myself.

Emboldened by wonderful mentor friends, like Rochelle Melander (who I introduced in my last blog), I was equipped to face off against myself in rebuttal.  "This is an exercise," I reminded myself.  "Press on.  It will be worth it."

Part of my approach to NaNoWriMo is to get the words out no matter what.

My friend Rochelle wrote a blog a few days ago called "Busy is No Excuse: Stop Whining and Write" in which she listed four excellent strategies to help busy people push through the excuses and WRITE!  The third strategy she listed has become a biggie for me over the years:

"Lower your standards." Rochelle wrote. "Many writers quit because the words on paper don’t sound as good as they did in their vision."

Rochelle's words joined in perfect harmony with the words of another writing teacher from years ago who often reminded her students that we had "permission to write badly" -- that if we didn't save our perfectionism for the rewrite, we would likely never get to the rewrite.

Putting it yet another way (while basically saying the same thing)...

When I teach creative writing classes for young students, I often compare the process to sculpting. Sometimes I even bringing clay into the classroom for the kids to play with.  A lot can be learned from looking at writing as a form of sculpture.  Here are a few of the points I make:

• If you edit yourself as you go along, you will end up with a lot of pretty little pieces which you can then try to stick together.  Maybe it will work, but the likelihood of pieces "falling off" is high.  
• You may also find yourself grasping for filler to hold it together, and that filler may not match because it comes from a different batch of verbal clay, developed under different conditions. 
• If, however, you allow yourself to write with abandon (giving yourself permission to write badly), the result will be a solid mass of clay (or stone, or whatever you want to think of that rough draft material as).  
• Sure, there will be a lot of superfluous material.  Some of it might be quite embarrassing -- one might even say "bad."  But that stuff can be cut and chiseled away.
• and the shape of the mass can be bent and molded... 
• and the best part of all is the integrity that the whole of the story will have.  It won't be as piecemeal -- and I believe the likelihood of it holding together will be greatly increased. 

Best of all, if you take this "permission to write badly" and "let's spit out a clump of material that can be edited LATER" approach, you are more likely to achieve your vision.  Rochelle said, "Many writers quit because the words on paper don’t sound as good as they did in their vision."

I've often looked to Michelangelo, who is said to have believed that the images he needed to create resided in the stone -- All he needed to do was chip away that which was not the image and the masterpiece would then be revealed.  If you plan the basic structure of your story -- using outlines, index cards, clusters, storyboards, or whatever works best for you -- then you plunge into writing that rough draft roughly, quickly, and without the editor in you scolding you and trying to be super-precise about what will work and what won't, then I believe that your vision will reside in the material of your rough draft in such a way that only waits for you to step back and take your chisel to release it, to free it.

How can you release that which is not yet been put into words, rough as they might be? that which is still trapped within your mind?  Maybe that's why you sometimes see writers banging their heads against the wall???

The most delightful thing about the artwork of children is the unedited energy behind it.  If we want to retain the ability to infuse our work with energetic vision, we need to develop methods and habits that don't restrict the flow of that energy.  I believe the only way to allow that energy to flow freely is to allow at least a little bit of debris to accompany it.  The debris can be cleared later, but energy forced into the story later is not likely to ring true. That's my theory, anyway.

Back to writing now.  Badly.

Reappearing to inform you of my plan to disappear...

The countdown to NaNoWriMo is almost over. Even though I'm still trying to decide what my story will be, I have committed to write a 50,000 word draft of a new novel during the month of November.

Since writing can be such a solitary endeavor, there is something beautiful about the camaraderie of knowing that there are people all over the world "running" this writing marathon along with me.  If you want to track the progress of my emerging novel, NaNoWriMo has created an handy-dandy chart for that purpose.  (Click on the word "chart")

Maybe you're thinking about joining in the marathon.  If you do, please add me as a "Writing Buddy," so I can track you, too.


Since I'm not likely to be back on here much until the month of November is over, I thought I'd post a few resources that should be helpful in answering any questions you may have about NaNoWriMo specifically or marathon writing in general:

NaNoWriMo website: www.nanowrimo.org/





Also, check out my friend Rochelle's brand new book on the subject: Write-A-Thon

Rochelle is an amazing writer and coach.  She promises to continue blogging at her website during the month of November.









Even though I may not be adding on to this blog much during the month of November, I'd love to come back in December and discover that some of the old entries have been read in my absence.  If you do dig back in the archives and find anything your like, be sure to leave a comment. 


Have a blessed November!

Be Well and Vomit, er, I mean Be Well and Blog

It's been a while. It would seem that NaNoWriMo was the death of my blogging (which was already withering away on life-support). I did make it through the month, emerging with a stack of paper (well, actually, I haven't hit "print" yet--the ink is too expensive) a virtual "stack of paper" I call the first draft of a novel. The Office of Letters and Light says that makes me a "Winner," but I feel less than winnerly as I rest under the weight of guilt for deserting the good intentions of my blog.

my chart just before crossing the finish line:I guess the assembling of 50,000+ words that are more or less unified in story-telling purpose is an accomplishment. My enthusiasm, however, is tempered by the call of the re-write. So, now the moodiness of my inner frustrated writer wields a double-edged sword: On the one hand, I feel bad when I don't blog, but on the other hand, I feel like I'm using time that would better be spent on the re-write of my novel when I indulge in blogging. (You may look at my archives and say, "wait, what blogging?" but let me assure you that I have been blogging--or at least my anonymous alter-ego has been blogging.)

Yesterday, my friend Greg re-kindled my blog-fires by posing the question, "To Blog, or Not to Blog?" and starting a dialog on the purpose and value of blogging--especially for those who also write with the goal of publishing books. Opinions vary on whether authors should also blog or not and why (http://writinghood.com/online-writing/should-fiction-writers-have-a-blog/). Some blog for exposure and promotion to an audience, some blog as an exercise in writing (practice), some blog to help others with information they deem valuable, and some blog for self-satisfaction.

I know a great playwright who never misses a day blogging (and the blogs he posts are not mere trivial fluff). I am so impressed with his work ethic--he feeds my wannabe-writerly self-loathing and makes me contemplate plunging off a bridge on a regular basis. (I know, I should just head over to the pub like a REAL writer, but that's another story.)

As I perused the reasons others have for blogging, another reason came to mind: (perhaps because I spend a large percentage of my time with a couple of pre-adolescent boys)

BLOGGING IS LIKE VOMITING--sometimes there is something inside of you that just has to get out (and it doesn't matter so much who sees it or what it looks like--it just needs to be expelled or you'll be forever sick.)

In that sense, blogging can be very therapeutic. I started my anonymous blog mainly for that purpose--to keep myself from going insane, even while I can't afford a therapist.

I hope my friend Greg will start a blog, because he always poses such great questions, has a fantastic sense of humor, and literally overflows with encouraging words. The world could only benefit from his contributions to the blogosphere. I also hope he will take the plunge because blogging--like vomiting--is good for one's health, and I wish him (and the rest of my beloved friends) the best of health in this new year.

Be well and blog!

Pictures from SNL Rookie Cop sketch,
circa 1994

Instead of coming out of the closet, I'd like to invite you into my closet... and while you're at it, take a gander at my underwear drawer!

Realizing that I haven't been a reliable blogger, I'd like to say that's going to change--that from here on out you can expect to see something new from me every day or every week or at least every month. Such a promise, however, would be like a dog vowing not to linger long enough to sniff the territory he just marked. Nature is nature and A.D.D. is... what were we talking about?

I'll never forget that moment in junior high English when I was first introduced to the concept of the "Stream of Consciousness" narrative mode. It was like a tiny glimpse of freedom in the stifling linear world of traditional education. I might have grasped how profound that moment was, had I known then what I've come to realize in recent years of "dealing with" and researching my own kids' learning challenges. As I came to grips with the fact that one of my children had all the symptoms of A.D.D. (which is harder to spot than it's more obvious cousin, A.D.H.D.), I also had to admit that I fit the description to a tee (and that coping wasn't getting any easier with age).

My brain doesn't process things quite as "efficiently" as the brains of others may--efficiently for the results that traditional academia is seeking, that is. I take detours to check out alternate possibilities (lots of detours), which means it may take me longer to get from point A to point B. When I get there, however, I usually have a web of connections that incorporates other tangent points; and, even though I may be slower, I think a web just might be stronger than a single thread. Some "Stream of Consciousness" literature seemed to reflect that web-spinning way of thinking that felt most natural to me.

As much as I can count my differing mode of operation as a gift that has allowed the birthing of some of my most creative ideas, I must admit that in other ways it is also a disability. What good is it to have heaps and heaps of ideas if one is too disorganized to ever see any of them through to fruition?

In preparing for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month http://www.nanowrimo.org/) which is only days away, I've been trying to find all the story ideas and files I've compiled over the years. I've dug in boxes and file cabinets and drawers and closets, and plugged in external hard drives and zip drives. I've read notes that were typed on an old word processor, scrawled on restaurant napkins, and incorporated into old journals. In spite of all this searching, the two ideas I thought were developed the furthest are still nowhere to be found. All is not lost, however... in this process of searching, I've stumbled upon gems that I had totally forgotten about:

-- treatments for feature films that have held up over the time--I'd still like to see the movies described therein

-- old poetry, both mine and my parents'

-- short stories and plays

-- articles and books clipped and saved for possible adaptation...

I'm not going to fool myself that this will be easy to sort through. It's quite the overwhelming task. Those who live close enough to have been in my house in recent months can attest to the fact that what was supposed to be "Spring cleaning" has drug on into Summer and now Autumn with little evidence of an end point. I hauled boxes out of closets in order to sort through everything before putting it back in the closets, and now my closets are the only areas of my house where I would feel comfortable entertaining guests. Oh, my sock and underwear drawers are super-tidy now, too, but I'm not sure what that has to do with entertaining guests. It does, however, bring up an interesting quirk of mine that I have admitted to few:

My sock and underwear drawers are a sort of barometer of my psychological well-being. If I'm depressed and have essentially "given up"--as I sometimes do--I will start shoving undergarments into the drawers unfolded. If, on the other hand, I'm hopeful and my self-esteem is intact, I treat myself to the neatest, most orderly (nearing O.C.D. levels, I will admit) storage of my unmentionables (which, I just mentioned... sorry 'bout that.)

I am taking hope, however, that since I was able to organize my eating and exercising to the point that I've lost 1/4 of my previous body weight and dropped a bunch of pant sizes since the beginning of the year, I CAN discipline other areas of my life as well. At some point in time, I may have to ask for a little help from my friends. The number one way you can help me is by holding me accountable. Feel free to bug me. To prod me. To remind me of what I said I was going to do. If you haven't heard from me for a while, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm off making good progress on a project... It might mean I'm tangled in one of my A.D.D. webs and need to be reminded where I was headed.