Rehashing a few years’ ago blog, so I can focus my writing time and creativity on the Writing Heights Write More Challenge kind of makes me feel like I’m cheating. But mediocre advice is still advice. I hope you’re finding some inspiration this month. And if you need a little, here, have some of mine…
Hello! Thanks for taking the time to catch up with the blog in the middle of one of your (hopefully) busiest writing months. At this point your mindset is probably so swayed to creating that reading outside of your work in progress is a lot like talking to another adult after being seeped in toddler-speak, non-stop, all week.
I know that your time is precious so I’ll keep it short and sweet. (Like me, ya’ll)
The second week of Write More Month is all about elaborating on, fleshing out, and developing your baby. Last week we talked about the excitement of new love. The honeymoon stage of writing, if you will. This week is about the baby you’ve made and what that means for not just your writing, but your life for the next seven to ten days.
I know a lot of you are parents, and though it may have been awhile since you’ve spent the midnight hours rocking teary-eyed cherub back to sleep, chances are you remember the sacrifice of time and autonomy for the good of the future. This week is not much different for the writing challenge process. You are starting to see the commitment involved and how the expectations you may have had in the beginning are often dashed by the realities.
Because children don’t always behave the way you think they will. Characters show unexpected traits and say things that throw your dynamic out of whack like dropping the f-bomb at Christmas dinner with Grandma, or asking you for “boob!” loudly in a store.
Settings and plot lines stall with the same debilitating frustration as trying to get a two-year-old into shoes because you’re late for the doctor appointment and you haven’t showered in three days, and you ate cold, leftover mac n cheese for breakfast and you’re not sure if that’s their diaper that smells or the dog…
Keeping on top of the little fires that come up isn’t easy but I encourage you to set a flexible schedule (it works with kids; it works with writing). Give yourself two hours ideally but really whatever you have is fine. Leave half for just writing. Leave the other half to fix plot holes, develop your character’s personalities and backgrounds, build on your story arc, and brainstorm solutions for things that are cropping up as you pour ever more work into the novel. Look at it like doing the groundwork of, feeding, changing, and burping for half of it, and the other half cuddling, coloring, singing, and playing.
A well rounded “story” is equal parts meeting the basic needs and getting to enjoy the playful creation of it.
Good luck out there. Nap when it naps, grab a shower while your computer backs up. Drink some coffee and prep for the long nights. Remember the bigger picture. Novels and babies are investments in the future. The work, and love, and committed care you invest now will lead to rewarding results in both your story, your characters, and your craft.
Oh…and get a decent meal. You can’t run on PB&J crusts and half eaten apples forever.
Because I’ll be too busy trying to finish a novel this month for Writing Heights Write More Challenge (check it out, it’s free to join, you get a free month of membership and a chance to win three more months. Plus its a great community, super supportive, and the perfect space to finish that goal) I’m rehashing my old NaNo weekly posts. Work smarter not harder I say. Enjoy!
Let’s talk about Week 1
Ah, yes, the glorious stage of excitement and foreplay. The thrill of fleshing out your characters, and having them say clever things to one another, and building beautiful worlds with soft hues and brilliant sunsets. It’s champagne and butterflies, it’s rainbows and 3 hour love-making sessions with your laptop (please, God, not literally…the keys are hard enough to keep clean with just my coffee and pastry habit).
The words come easy, the beginning is new and exciting, the chemistry is just right. Possibly you’ve been planning this novel for awhile, maybe you even used October to plan it out and things are running smoothly and in great gushes of inspiration and excitement. (I think ‘gushes’ might be just as bad as ‘moist’ for cringe-worthy words).
OR
You’re stuck in front of your blank page and wondering why in God’s name you agreed to this. The stress of completing such a herculean task is causing every neuron to march around your addled brain with tiny little picket signs protesting the ridiculous workload before they even endure it.
You’re thinking of giving up. It feels as though you agreed to do this on a brash weekend in Vegas and you might have done so under the influence of alcohol and you really don’t know this book that well and what will your parents say and… is it too late for an annulment?
In the first case: Congratulations, keep going! If you have the stamina and inspiration to do so, front load these first couple of weeks so you can have a few days to ride if you need to recover. (I can’t help but hear Sheriff Bart’s voice in my head “Man, them schnitzengrubens will wipe you out!” Come on, people…Blazing Saddles)
In the second case: Don’t give up just yet. So she/he’s a gamble and you may have rushed into things. It’s normal to be nervous. It’s normal to feel like there’s nowhere to go. But you’re a writer. And writer’s do best when they stop questioning the end product and just write. See where that impromptu spouse will lead you, let it play out for a few days and enjoy the crazy weird ride that you’re on.
The secret to NANOWRIMO is to not overthink it. Because that’s when you start looking for all the imperfections and plot holes that send you into editing mode and canceling out any forward movement you have.
If you’re having trouble with getting your word count every day here’s some tips that have helped me:
Break it up into smaller sections. A little in the morning, a little at lunch, some at night. Carry the laptop or notebook with you and write a few lines whenever you have a chance
Keep your characters in your head with you at all times. How would they react to what you’re doing? What would they say to each other in the grocery store line? Let them talk to each other while you’re doing the dishes or in that third useless meeting of the day (come on, we all know at least 2/3rds of all meetings are just wastes of time that allow one person to hear themselves talk).
Strike when the fire is hot. If you are on a roll, do everything in your power to keep writing…then in the middle of a paragraph or even a sentence–stop. Yeah, you read that right. Stop. It will frustrate you and keep your mind on what will happen next until you pick it back up. Foreplay people…there’s nothing like a little flirtatious teasing to make the next interlude all the more passionate.
DO NOT be discouraged if you have a short day. Every word counts and a 400 word day is still 400 words. Like running or training, or anything really–great things are accomplished not always in leaps and bounds but by small progressive steps forward.
Rest your fingers and your brain. Take breaks, sleep well, eat well, exercise, and get away from it throughout the day. Burnout probably happens most in the first couple of weeks when our inspiration gets ahead of our ability to keep at it with the same frantic pace.
Nothing’s sexier than a good vocabulary, so let’s get hot? At the very least, let’s learn a new word.
Today, I used the very scientific method of flipping to a random page in the “Dictionary of the Strange, Curious & Lovely”, by Robin Devoe and closing my eyes to point to a word. That word, was obtenebrate. To which my brain and tongue had to slow down and work together for a few seconds. Tongue to back of teeth, lips puffing. It feels like a word that would provide the hearty mouthfeel for spoken poetry. And it rhymes with other gems like, confiscate, innumerate, postulate, adulterate, articulate…and now I’ll probably be working on a poem later.
It’s a fun word to say. But the meaning, hit a little too close to the heart, particularly this week.
Obtenebrate: To darken or make dark; to enshadow a thing; to obscure.
The word itself, comes from the late Latin obtenebratus, past participle of obtenebrare to darken, from Latin ob- to, toward, over + tenebrare to darken, from tenebrae darkness, and also shares roots with the Portuguese trevas (darkness or gloom).
And whereas there are a lot of different directions towards gloominess I could take this post today, (aren’t we living in a space and time where a malevolent shadow in a bad spray tan is constantly covering us?) I want to talk about it in terms of ourselves. Our own psyches and perceptions of the world. Beyond the simplifications of being classified as an optimist or a pessimist, I’ve noticed, particularly in the case of a dear friend, the uncanny ability of the mind to obtenebrate itself.
But why does it do this? Why do we do this? This dance with darkness that quickly spirals into an ocean of shadows too deep to keep our heads up?
During a weekly Buddhist gathering, we talked about the concept of being entwined without becoming entangled. To be present without absorbing. To always come back to one’s self, in a world that is constantly pulling us and scarring us with traumatic happenings. All of which, by the way, add up in our physical bodies and in our reactions and fears towards others. From childhood and the father who was abusive, through college and the professor who said we’d never be a writer, to the poor reviews or rejections of lovers…the body remembers, the mind tries to protect. And in doing so, both become entangled. Gnarled roots take hold, darkness shadows over our thoughts, clouding our vision and perception of the world. Until we no longer remember what a bright day looks like. This darkening is cyclical. It feeds on itself, growing larger, and expanding over more and more. Our memories, our achievements, our hopes…the people who love us.
It feels like “the Nothing” from Neverending Story, a bit, doesn’t it?
And to watch it happening to someone you love (or even yourself if you have that kind of self-awareness) is a frightening thing indeed. Because shadows don’t listen to reason. Darkness is too accustom to swallowing light, to pause and ask if it belongs there. Where there are scars, the obtenebration plants seeds. Grows more darkness. Until it can feel like there isn’t much warmth or light worth sticking around for.
And I’m not smart enough to offer solutions. Because the undeniable truth of our own birth and death means that the constant state of existence is one of entropy. And if the shadows are dark enough, perhaps you can only see the decay, the breakdown, the demise. Maybe you don’t yet understand that the breakdown often happens to feed something deeper, brighter that will cycle back around out of the shadows. Maybe we have, for too long, overcomplicated our own wounds, become entangled by them, and forget that we are the only ones capable of hacking through the briar patch of shadows. Maybe we don’t think there’s a reason to bother.
Look, I only have forty some years of experience, but what I do know, from nature, and from my own cycles of loss, and suffering, is that shadows and clouds, night, and darkness, all come through, and then…eventually they are broken apart and carried away by the light, the wind, and the dawn. Yes they come back. Because the only truth of life is change. But instead of running to stay beneath the shadows of those dark clouds, perhaps we can sit still. Come back to ourselves. Shine our own light on these wounds, these entanglements. Work to understand them and, this is the important part, find a way to love and accept. So that maybe the next time the world obtenebrates our lives, we are not allowing it to entangle us.
Take care of yourself. Accept the shadows that come, but don’t invite them to stay. It’s a waste of your one, precious life.
Morning all. I’m going through these mountains of poetry. Some from many years past. Some from last year, while I was in program with my daughter at an Eating Disorder Recovery center in Denver. I know it is a year past, and things are better. She is brave and strong, and working through so much. She is eating and once again capable of rational thought. But I also know that there were wounds made in that space that are still tender. For us both.
How? Well, at the RMFW conference a couple of weekends ago, I found that my hotel window faced the Gary Pavilion of Children’s Hospital. The building we spent every day from 7am until 7pm, undergoing treatment. Not just forcing her to eat, but requiring hours of therapy, inner work, and learning coping mechanisms. Some were helpful. Some, as dictated by that particular program, did not sit well or work with either of our values. When I opened my curtain and saw it, just the innocuous building, nothing on its own but filled with months of memories, I felt immediately physically sick. All of the days of crying and screaming, hateful rebellion, and how-could-you-do-this-to-me’s, how could you save a life I’m trying so hard to end… came rushing over me. And maybe I had been trying to put it, like a box, in the back of my brain closet. Seeing the building, in the same light as we would leave each day made me feel anxious and shaky. I closed my curtains and did not open them for the entire weekend.
Anyway, a long intro to this poem. Written during the struggle. If you’re in a struggle, of any kind, I hope you find some comfort within the lines.
Goddamn it. I hate newsletter day. Let’s get it over with.
What’s going on in my world? Honestly a lot of chaos. Chaos in my business, Writing Heights Writers Association, where I’m tasked with taking on a few extra roles and constantly navigating in stormy seas to keep this ship afloat. Chaos in my projects, where my distracted and depression-soaked mind bounces from one to the next and back again without any real progress. Chaos in my heart and mind over new and conflicting feelings for things I cannot have. Things I cannot change. Chaos in my physical space where all my converging roles make haphazard piles on my desk.
Let’s sort it out a bit.
GARDEN NEWS:
What can I say, we’re winding down. Something has happened to our corn, and the grasshoppers have taken to gnawing on the leaves, so I don’t expect much from them, but I am going to try to harvest the seeds for next year. Speaking of harvesting…
Squirrels love squash, and if it’s anything that Harvest Community has in plenty? It’s squirrels. I don’t mind. I mean, I would have liked to eat a couple but, I also know that food and water supply is pretty weird these days, and I’m not gonna NOT feed something that’s hungry.
The nasturtium are beautiful
and the tomatoes are starting to slow in their ripening with the shorter days. So, we may not get too many more but I’m looking forward to making some fried green tomatoes. Which makes me think of Fannie Flagg’s book and the incomparable movie with Jessica Tandy and Kathy Bates (get yourself some hormones, girl), Mary Stuart Masterson (my first girl crush) and Mary Louise Parker. And that makes me think of good food, recompense for nasty men, and women standing up for one another. Check it out HERE.
The dog and cats are good. Assholes sometimes, but also sometimes stupidly wonderful.
Why always on my side?the perfect night
READING:
I finished Cinder and I’m on to Scarlet from Melissa Meyer. They’re good, but not so heavy that I can’t sleep at night after reading them. I like the twist of fairytales into the fantasy world and the way the storylines are converging.
I finished and read the newly-out Songs of Good Cheer from Lauren Lipp. Its a sweet and warm-hearted, holiday sapphic romance with good character development and a second-chance romance worth the read.
Carter Wilson’s When They Find Me is an excellent thriller, set in Colorado. I have to read it out of bed though, during the day, because it ramps up my anxiety too much before trying to sleep. The sure sign its a great book. I’m almost through it.
Existentialism is Humanism by Jean-Paul Satre is an interesting little journey and I’m making lots of notes in the margins. It’s a little escape from my own thoughts and delving into someone else’s. To something bigger beyond my own little troubles.
No Words After I Love You by me. Yeah, I know. It’s mine. I also know I reread it when my heart is heavy. Because sometimes I really need a Charlie in my life. And a ballsy ex-journalist, and a love that was written in the stars. When, my heart is hurt I need to be in an alternate world where things can somehow work out. And that kiss…everyone should be kissed like that at least once in their miserable little lives. Part of that Chaos of Wanting.
WRITING:
*takes a deep breath and sighs it out* Thanks to upcoming critique groups, I’m trying to push out some work. And work, if you can manage it, helps distract the heart. The problem is that I’m not sure it’s necessarily good work.
I’m through edits on FaeSpawn, my first in the trilogy set in the Ornkey Islands, north of Scotland. I’m handing it over, a few chapters at a time, to my new critique group to see what comes up and I’ll go back through when the trilogy is complete to fix and refine anything that may come up in the process. I’m now working through the second book, SeaSpawn. I forget that I wrote this first draft in my neophyte days, but boy does the writing remind me. Its sometimes good to read through older work and realize how much you’ve grown and improved, but there’s quite a bit more rewriting that comes along with that. I suspect it will take a bit longer to edit then I had first thought.
I’m working this month on character sheets and a short outline for a new and different project (see last week’s post). Set in Aberystwyth, Wales, it follows the convergence of two souls, scarred by life and teetering on the edge of their own kind of chaos. It has everything, insanity, murder, Munchausen’s Syndrome, obsessive compulsive disorder, cutting, abuse…a real light-hearted tale….
On the other side of all of that, there is also the power and resilience of the human heart, interesting interweaving of magical realism, soul-searching, love, friendship, acceptance, letting go, redemption and healing. I’m at about 15,000 words in, and plan to use Novel-in-a-month November to finish the first draft. If I can pull my heart out of its current self-pitying tailspin.
What else? Still working through the poetry anthology, and as it turns out I’ll be taking over the Poetry Critique group for Writing Heights so it will be helpful in starting to go through some of them, with some talented poets whose help I could really use. So far, the document is about 120 pages. Not all the poems will make it.
Also–oddly, I have about 9000 words on a strange little comedy of errors, about two people who try to erase their lives, and start over. Only to find that the past wants them back, just as they’re finding each other.
EVENTS
I have a book coming out. October 20th, my holiday novella “Eight Nights in Everpine Valley” will be released. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at the Hallmark Channel but still like a good romance, this book is for you. Subversive and snarky, this little book puts the reality of all kinds of love (familial, self, romantic) in the context of a world gone mad for the season. Check it out and leave a review, if you can. If you do read it and you’re interested in the ‘deleted’ spicy scene, let me know. I’ll send you the missing, toe-curling chapter.
I will be speaking at Arapaho Community College on October 21st for their National Novel Writing Month Panel. You can find out more here: ACC PANEL . I’m super excited to work with Jomil Ebro and David Slayton and Rachel Weaver, to talk about writing, answer some questions, have a few conversations, and encouraging writers in next month’s endeavor.
I’ll be teaching a class at the end of November on how to write a series, through Writing Heights Writers Association (she plays all the roles in this place). I’ll be using my current series in progress as an example and we’ll talk about common pitfalls, how to create that beautiful, total-series arc, how to keep every novel strong on its own, and how to not lose your damn mind in the process (suggestions welcome). Check us out HERE.
In addition to all of those things… I also run four critique groups a month, host all of the classes, have two regular, in-person write ins (more in November for National Novel Writing Month) and teach the youth class. I’ll now be responsible for the newsletter, and if you’re a member or subscriber I thank you in advance for your grace as I navigate that world (we all know how much I LOVE writing newsletters). I try to schedule one team meeting in a month, and individual check is with each of my team. There’s also my daughter’s therapy appointments, pick up and drop off, the occasional cleaning when I am not beset by the other more demanding things. Pet care, garden try-to-care
…people ask me why I don’t do more “self-care”. I said I could probably hire it out. But I don’t have the time or money. So until then…I’ll just keep pouring out of this empty cup and see how far I can go. As Noah wrote “If my engine works perfect on empty, I guess I’ll drive”
I wrote this post in June of 2020. I was going through it, “modernizing it” and sadly not much has changed with the first paragraph. The world is still tense, but more in a ‘waiting for the trifecta atom bomb of environment/AI/Fascism to end us all” kind of tense. A bit more depressing. A bit more frustrating. So, in an effort to lighten some hearts and bring us back down to our sensual humanness, enjoy advice that’s still pretty good.
The world is a tense place right now and I know I’m not the only one who’s been suffering with a busy and worried mind. These days, these times, these overcrowded houses, and insecurities about the future don’t make for good bedfellows and it’s not just artists who are suffering.
A recent study revealed that fewer people are having sex. Especially in the younger age groups. A combination of the world’s current crises, economic disparity, job loss, women fed up with inequality, women no longer having control of their reproductive health (you can’t fucking touch me because I won’t have a choice afterwards, asshat), incels, underground dark net sites where men drug their significant others and assault them in videos for profit and ‘instructing’ purposes (thought I forgot about that? None of us should forget about that). Then there’s women’s fears of sexual violence, inequality in the emotional and mental labor at home, exhaustion, fear of war, fear of food supply. Shit… maybe I shouldn’t be writing about the erotic. Maybe we should be prepping instead.
Ahem…
A lot of younger generations are also experiencing a general unease about the current “hook up” culture in addition. All of this has left a great many of us feeling as though sex just isn’t worth all the hullabaloo. (Clear sign that people aren’t getting enough play time between the sheets is the uptake in old-timey language like “hullabaloo”, “horse feathers”, “fiddle faddle”, wisenheimer”, “canoodling” and “shenanigans”)
So, what better time to start a new literary romance novel and a romantic fantasy series? Actually there are a lot of better times, but we may only have three years left before AI kills us all, so I might as well get a few more books out, right? Despite feeling a little ‘meh’ about love in general, my hope is that it will ignite some latent ideas that will help me finish the two or three novels that have just been sitting like cold leftovers in my fridge.
(I should eat that before it goes bad, but I’m just not feeling like all that fiddle-faddle. I’ll make a quesadilla.)
I’m not sure how many of my writing clan out there dabbles in romance or what your current feelings are on the matter, but I think that when we are faced with a world in such serious and important chaos, the idea of a little escapism should not be dismissed too lightly. Passion comes in many forms, and when we stoke the fires of one form, we help to ignite the others. A passionate life is not just in the pursuit of justice, it is in the pursuit of love and happiness as well. And a good romance novel will follow this pursuit.
So, for today’s exercise, whether or not you write romance, I would like you to try your hand at a touch of eroticism (there’s a double meaning in there). I’m not suggesting you sit down and write your tawdriest letter to Penthouse. I don’t want to know about girth or the overused metaphors of trembling phalluses or ‘moist’ orifices. (Yuck, I think I just grossed myself out).
I want you to find the eroticism in the small details, objects, places, memories. Eroticism is more than just what you think of when you see an eggplant emoji.
Awe, they’re canoodling! (Photo by Dainis Graveris on Pexels.com)
Take your time, focus on the minute details of moments. The way a finger plucks a grape from the vine, or how a callus feels against the small of your back. Focus on the path of a rain droplet down a leaf, the low blood-warming rumble of thunder, the smell of skin warmed by sunshine. The juice of a mango running down your wrist.
Write about those moments and observations, as if it were the world teasing you.
What makes them sensual? What makes your breath quicken?
If you need more direct inspiration, here are some great suggestions from Natalie Goldberg’s “Writing Down the Bones”:
What makes you hot?
Name all the sexual fruits you know? What makes them so?
What do you crave when you are in love?
What is the most erotic part of your body? (and please, be creative, we all know the obvious ones—reach for something more interesting—well, not literally…or yes literally–what do I care what you do in the privacy of your own home? I support however you process).
Write the body as a landscape.
What do you connect with? (physicality, music, touch, words: think of this similarly as how you learn. Visually, orally, auditory, by doing, by reading?)
Do you remember the very first time you felt desire? When was the first time you felt erotic?
Okay! There you go, something fun to get out of the world for a minute. I hope it helps to boost your writing if not your mood. Maybe your cohabiter will even benefit from these shenanigans. As Monty Python so eloquently said: “wink, wink, nudge, nudge”.
Lately? I’ve been finding all kinds of excuses to not write. Why? Because my current project scares me a little. It’s darker than I thought it would be. There are great tsunamis of sadness that seem to engulf and overwhelm every page, and I worry. I worry that its not just a reflection of the times, but of my own psyche. I could abandon it. Try to churn out another HEA, enemies to lovers, satisfying romance, but something about this book, this idea, this yearning feels deeply important. And maybe that’s why I’m struggling so much with the characters.
yeah, I really do have that many things marked in this book… try to nerd on my level
So, in my procrastination this week, I went back to one of my favorite books on writing. “Naked Playwriting” by William Downs to rehash what it is about these characters that’s interrupting my flow. And also to refresh myself on themes that are not only applicable to theater.
Bcause I have a sneaking suspicion this book is a tragedy.
And I’m a romance writer. I write sins, not tragedies (Poise and Rationality). I write redemptions and happy ever-afters. I write feel-good and resolution because I want to see them in the world. I have a sneaking suspicion that the world has beaten that hope out of me. I suspect, my sense of romanticism and love has been steadily destroyed over these last ten years. I suspect that once that blindfold was tugged off by every heartbreak, disappointment, news article on the rape and abuse of women, and failing justice system, it became impossible for me to put any blinders of Happily-Ever-After back on.
So maybe this is the book I need to write. Maybe I need to get the tragedy out of my system. Maybe someone dies at the end. Maybe they’re already dead. Maybe the reason it feels so rainy and sad is that I have been out of the light for sometime now. And maybe these two ill-fated lovers, are the parts of myself who are desperate to do something in a world that constantly binds hands and hearts.
So back to Character. Just like steel, as Downs and Russin write, is boring as hell when it’s broken down to it’s bare facts, so characters are cardboard nothingness until…we shape them into agents of doing. Good stories happen when characters are doing something. Falling in love, struggling through crisis, winning, losing, overcoming etc, etc, etc… When I ask myself what these characters are doing, the obvious answer is incredibly boring. They’re suffering. They’re both stuck in past tragedies and meet along some astrological plane of existence, stewing in their own morbidities. Two depressed fucks just standing around staring at each other. Waiting for me to do something with them.
When we consider Micheal Foley’s “Age of Absurdity” he speaks of humans has having four ignoble truths:
We can’t sit still
We can’t shut up
We can’t escape self-obsession
We can’t stop wanting things
Pause for a moment and read that again. Am I the only one who feels personally attacked? Good, we should. We should consider our ignobility. Our flaws. The conflict we bring into our own lives and how it will apply to characters (both on stage and on the page) is what drives a story that seems to be stuck on a stormy, cold beach at the end of the world.
In addition to knowing those unflattering things about the character (and ourselves) we must consider that they are not in a vacuum. They are a part of the plot, inseparable. They are the drivers, the instigators, and they are all under this dark sky of theme. So while they don’t necessarily reflect real people, they need to feel natural within the context of both the plot and what the story is about, in total.
For the next couple of weeks, and leading up to November (where I intend to put myself in a social media time-out and focus on finishing this novel–tragedy or no) I will be asking myself how each of my characters display and act out these truths, I will ask where they are in the world, and what it is that they both so desperately want. What they’re willing to do to get it. It seems, at first, so easy to fit them into an appropriate box, but this process has proven to be deceptively simple and requires a lot of work. And it could be work that no one will end up reading. But that’s not the point of writing. As a good friend once reminded me on my last birthday:
“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”–Kafka
I hope that this gives you something to think about, when it comes to your characters, and how complex writing well really is. Why it can’t be done by a machine, not in the ways that matter. Not in the ways that tell real stories about human existence. But anything worth doing, is worth doing well. And if this one takes me a little longer, then that’s the time it takes. Good luck out there.
I daydreamed your long and nimble fingers spread me wide pulling apart the sections of sweet, blood orange and you bit into my bitter soft rind would that I could be feasted upon, delectable and delicate taken with such hungry, thirsty care
When I found this lovely book, I wanted to share it with everyone I loved. Then I realized that I’m a complete nerd and blossoming basket case, and not everyone finds language and expression of pin-point emotions so fascinating as I do. But if you do like those things, check it out. Today we’re going to be talking about idlewild. But first, a word or two about sorrow.
The word sadness originally meant “fullness”, from the same Latin root satis (which gives us satisfaction and sated). Not so long ago, to be sad meant to be filled with the intensity of an experience. Or as an empath, I like to call it every, normal day. Sadness was not a malfunction of your brain’s “joymaking” machine, it was a state of awareness. The ability to take all of life in, the joy and grief. Today we tend to think of sadness as only the absence of hope, or simply-put despair. I think I prefer the idea that sadness or sorrow is more of an over-filling of emotion, a realization that everything is fleeting, all moments are once-in-a-lifetime, and that you care about something enough to let it into your tender heart.
The book describes idlewild as feeling grateful to be stranded in a place where you can’t do much of anything–sitting for hours at an airport gate, train station, or back of a car enroute. This temporary alleviation of the burden to be doing something can often free up your brain to do whatever it wants to do. Most noticeably, daydream, a past time many of us no longer feel the freedom to do. (From Idelwild, the original name of JFK International Airport in New York).
I decided on this word because I knew it would make some of us cringe over our coffee cups. What do you mean, sit and do nothing? How does one feel grateful for not being productive, as society so often demands of us? Precisely the reason, my friend, why this occurrence is so important. Especially for creatives.
Listen I’m the first to admit that I find being strapped into a plane, train, or automobile as one of the most productive experiences for me and my writing. Let’s face it, when there’s no laundry, or pets, or children, or cleaning, or appointments, etc that need taken care of, and I’m stuck unmoving for a few hours, it’s the perfect ‘butt-in-chair” time a busy writer needs. But recently I’ve found, especially after a few writing slumps, that sometimes the mind just needs to do nothing. Nothing productive I mean. It needs to be silly. It needs to stare across the landscape and wonder. It needs to wander to destinations that don’t have meanings or books attached to them. No futures or pasts. It needs to think about strange what ifs and in the same moments let them go like clouds passing overhead.
This freedom to let your silly little neurons, memories, knowledge banks, and disconnected oddities play on the same unoccupied playground is one of the best things you can do for yourself. It not only helps in future creativity and problem solving but it’s like giving your brain a recess from all the relentless details and doomscrolling in the day. I’ve honestly found that I enjoy staring off into space and playing thought leap-frog much more than being drawn into that annoying little screen always selling me hormone supplements and bondage wear? (Listen, I don’t have to explain my algorithm to anyone)
So whether you write, or paint, or sing, or…build buildings or teach five-year-olds, I encourage and prod you a bit to practice idlewild this week. In the waiting rooms, the bus rides, the elevator, the pick-up line. Instead of reaching for your phone, stare off into the distance and pull back the curtains to what your mind has wondered about lately. Not to do lists, or what you should be doing, but noticing the color of the horizon, or counting the trees in the painting your dentist hung up, or making up strange and humorous character situations about the people on your bus. Find a little wild in your idleness.
Hey writer and fellow creative friends. Wherever you are on your artistic journey, I hope you’ve considered the benefits of joining or participating in a retreat. Now, retreats can range from the ridiculously expensive, to renting a room at the shady looking motel three miles away. Some have classes or workshops, some have yoga or hiking mixed in, some are just straight up writing time.The point is to get out of your normal space, away from your normal routine, and spend that time focusing on your work. So whether you’ve broken the bank to jet set off to the French Riviera or you’re on your way to a twin room at the Motel 6, these tips can help you get the most out of that time. I even put it in a nifty little bullet list.
Be Prepared (Mentally):
One of the best tips I have, is to make yourself a list, before you go, detailing what you want to do, or get out of the retreat. Are you hoping to network and make connections? Are you aiming for a certain word count, or project completion? List out the major goals, then leave space (I’ll tell you why later on)
Be realistic but also a shade optimistic. Know your average, everyday word count and think about doubling or tripling it. You’ll have more time and less outward distractions and setting that goal will keep you on track. By making it a little challenging you’ll push yourself just enough. Even if you don’t hit the goal, you will get farther than if you’d been too ‘reasonable’.
Bring multiple or at least a couple different things to work on. The hours can become tedious and you might want to switch it up to stay fresh and motivated.
As a mom, and working mom, a strange thing happens the first few hours of being alone at a retreat. I get this thing I call “care-giver paralysis”. In the absence of doing for others, I can’t remember what to do with just myself. Understanding that this feeling will come, and I’ll have some listlessness helps me to remember to ease into the weekend with some journaling, or shorter projects.
Be Prepared (Physically):
The practical side of things is that you’re going to be away from home. But not on a typical vacation. So remember to bring your goal list, paper, pens, notebooks, journals, your laptop and charger…the basic tools of your trade. Make them your favorites or the one’s you’ve been ‘saving’ for something special. This is something special.
Plan for the environment: If you’re poolside or in the mountains, bring the proper clothing and footwear. You won’t be holed up in your room the whole time (I’ll explain more on that later). If there are dinners or classes, if it could be cold, or hot, try to think in layers. If its just writing, pack lots of comfortable clothing. Sunblock, hats and mittens. Bear spray or Mosquito spray?
Sleep aids- especially if sharing a room. I’m talking about eye covers, ear plugs, and headphones (not a rubber mallet if your roommate snores). Anything you need to get a good night’s rest.
Any special dietary needs/wants that the place won’t be able to provide.
Water bottle, medication, and bathroom necessities. Nothing is worse than being dehydrated and/or not having a toothbrush. Big and little comforts will make a huge difference.
Business cards. Holy shit, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten this one. Even if you’re just there to write, exchanging info with your fellow retreat members is great. You’ll be surprised how much you learn from one another in that time.
Tech that you need, none that you don’t. You’ll need brain breaks, you’ll probably want to check in with family once or twice, you may need a laptop. You probably don’t need your gaming system, and be careful of your social apps. This is a time for connecting with yourself and your art, not the 7 billion people of the world.
Be Flexible:
You’re going to have a goal list. You’re probably going to stray from it. That’s alright
There may be days when the word count fizzles or the scene doesn’t play out like you want. That’s okay.
There may be a project you exceed expectations on, and another you barely touch. That’s alright.
You may accidentally sleep in, or need a nap, or get caught up in conversations. These are good things.
Retreats are a balance of getting your work done, and taking care of yourself, which leads me to…
Schedule in Self-Care:
Bring along comfort. Your favorite pillow, blanket, clothing, music. Whatever it is that helps you feel relaxed and at home.
Take naps. You’re little brain is going to be working extra hard. It’s going to be focusing for hours and working through the plot holes and dialogues you’ve been avoiding. Schedule in time for naps, early bed times, or meditation on your goal list.
Take advantage of the outdoors. (Unless your Motel 6 is in a shady part of the city–then try to grab a Lyft to a safer part) Go for a hike or walk every couple of hours. Sit outside stare off into the far away for awhile. Your eyes and brain will thank you. Also schedule in brain breaks on your list.
Bring any nutritional or necessary snacks. I need coffee in the morning. I need tea before bed. I need fresh fruit and veg. I like hydration mix and the occasional bourbon on ice (not together, that would be gross) I want my Little Debbie brownies and my twizzlers. These little joys will keep your spirits up in the middle of the tough work.
Exercise, Mediate, Drink lots of Water, and take warm showers. All good things and breaks away from the intensity.
Skimping on self care will make you less productive and more likely to burn out. Nobody wants a mushy brain half way through.
Assess and Recalibrate:
After its all over, if you’ve got a drive home, or a flight…take some time to reflect. What went well? What was a challenge? What did you wish you had? What did you bring that you could have left home?
How did your goal list go? Did you overshoot? Did you get distracted, and by what?
How do you feel physically and mentally and how can you make sure that the next retreat leaves you feeling accomplished without being overwhelmed.
Well, there you go. I’m open to hearing if you have any other advice in the comments below. I’ll be heading a retreat next week, so if you’ll be there, I hope we can make it a great experience. If you can’t be there, I’ll be hosting another one next spring with the Writing Heights Writers Association and I’ll let you know the details as they’re finalized. Until then, Happy Writing.
