How To Take Your Book Idea Honeymoon to "The End"

 

 

 

Oh, look. The Honeymoon phase of your new shiny idea has come to an end. Your prosaic partner has shed their wuvy-duviness and morphed into an unwieldy beast. Your urge to cry “Mommy!” and run for the hills to start another New & Shiny is overwhelming.

Aw, you poor wee writer, you. Here, have a hug. Okay, empathy from me over. Get back in your writer chair. You need to learn a few hard lessons.

No romantic writer loft or silk cravat or running to your mommy will get you divorced from this story. Yes, you could abandon it. But remember back when you first thought of it. What a wondrous, never-before-thunked literary gem!

But now that you’ve seen your idea in the harsh light of day, and it is demanding too much from you, suddenly the urge to cheat on another cute idea strolling down that sun-kissed beach is so alluring. *wink, wink, nod, say no more, say no more*

I’m sensing a pattern here. You’re a New & Shiny idea philanderer! You prosaic cad!

A question. How many unfinished story ideas have been abandoned on your computer? 5, 10, 20, 20,000? I bet you bought an external hard drive to fit them all.

As noted in my book, STOP Not Writing: Nothing x Nothing = (you guessed it) Nothing.

You need an awakening, an intervention, a bloody dose of writer reality.

Lesson #1: Nothing great comes easy.

There. I’ve said it.

Lesson #2: And nothing ever turns into something until it’s finished.

Until you face these facts, you’ll have nothing to show for your desire to be a dedicated wordsmith but Terra-bytes of stream of consciousness abandoned babble simply because it became too hard and it felt like — dare I say it — work.

Yes, that four-letter word which comes with every occupation — welder, plumber, the person who scoops up trash with that fan-dangled scooper at Disneyland, your mail carrier, and Writer Wannabe You.

Lesson #3: Writing is a job like every other job.

Until you drop the notion that writing is a romantic Gone With The Wind passionate pastime, where your muse does all the work, and all you need to do is dress in a gown or tux to pick up your Pulitzer at The Plaza gala Simon & Schuster hosted for you because your navel gazing blather hit the New York Times Bestseller charts for ten weeks running, you will never get anywhere with your keyboard pounding. Seriously.

Stop daydreaming. Close your mouth. Wipe the drool from your lips. And return to Earth. You know, the place the rest of us prosaic humps eke out a living. And open up that not-so-new, not-so-shiny story idea, and let’s get to work.

Task No. 1: Make a Bloody Outline

No, dear writer, don’t have a mental hernia. I don’t mean some detailed tome nobody, but Grade 12 English teachers, wants to read. I mean crafting a simple scene-by-scene plotline — a few short sentences on a blank recipe card for each scene — so you know where the heck your story is going. So yes, you guessed it, you will avoid the hard writing angst and not cry for your mommy.

I know you. You embraced your New & Shiny story idea and took it on a whirlwind keyboard honeymoon where you and it hadn’t a care in the world nor a clue where you were going. And several gloriously hacked-out pages later, your romantic romp sputters and dies. Your muse’s gas tank bereft of even fumes.

(Uh huh, please, somebody, anybody, give me a nickel for every time this happens to a newbie wordsmith who thinks writing is “fun.” A zillionaire, me! Then I could quit this post and sunbathe on a beach where no one could find me, Mai Tai in hand, my manservant Miguel holding a pitcher of the cold ones in his right, fanning me with a palm frond with his left. I wuv Miguel. Man, I love how readers of my stuff can’t read the words I couch in brackets! Hehe…)

Oh, so you say you don’t know what happens next, so you can’t finish the outline.

Hm…

To that, I say,

Task No. 2: Step away from the keyboard and mind map what happens next.

Plots don’t just poop out the end of a dragon’s butt, you know. And no, I don’t mean every single tidbit of narration, dialogue, and action. Knowledge of the scene in general and how the next one flows from the last.

I don’t care how you complete this task. Use finger puppets or white boards or photos of dead characters tied together, plot-wise, with red string. Just figure out the darn story, will ya? Inciting incident, major obstacles and stakes, the evolution or devolution of your main players, to the climactic end and that settling/or disturbing denouement.

Writing is not rocket science, peeps.

Liken not completing this task to you venturing out into a vast forest without a freakin GPS. Do you want to return with a satisfying journey’s end, or die of hunger and thirst, lost among the trees, woodland creatures merrily munching on your carcass?

I tend to like to know where I’m going, so I return alive to pen again. But that’s me. You do you. But if you want to be like me and actually finish your book (I’m on my eighth) …

Make. A. Freaking. Outline! Arrgghh!

This teeny-weenie task enables your New & Shiny idea to remain. It will hold your hand and look lovingly into your eyes as you flip scene card by scene card ‘til there are no more scenes with which to flip.

Task No. 3: If stumped along the way, i.e. the Mushy Middle, stop typing, start thinking!

Typing a lot or typing fast, spewing out reams of useless, plot-muddying babble does not a story make. All that gets you is a semi-truck full of useless words you will have to edit out or pay some editing schmuck like me a million bucks to do for you (no wonder I pray to the god of Cocktail Hour… sigh…)

Sit back, figure out where your characters need to go, act, react next, and do not return to aforementioned keyboard until you have at least the gist of the upcoming scenes.

~~~

If you keep these lessons and tasks in mind, you’ll never see your sweetheart idea with messy hair, bad breath, and ferociously burping at the breakfast table. The Honeymoon will last ‘til “The End.”

(I swear. If this newbie writer listens to me, applies what I’ve said, pens the next Great American Novel, and ends up getting a Pulitzer and Plaza gala in their honor re: Nelle Harper Lee in 1961 for To Kill a Mockingbird, I will crash that Do, head to the lounge and get stinking drunk on their infamous martinis, like actor Philip Seymour Hoffman did in the movie Capote, jealously mumbling, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Yes, I’m THAT needy. But luckily my readers can’t read my bracketed words. What a superpower!)

I'm Not Writing, But I LOVE My Process...

 

*sigh...*

I'm not sure why, but in the newbie writer world there seems to be a lot of stubbornness. I suspect it has more to do with feeling self-conscious and craving approval than anything else. No matter as to the reason, if your writing process does NOT have your writing consistently, it.....*drum roll...*

SUCKS.

Yes, you read me right. That process is about as valuable as a Blue Light Special at K-Mart (for those of you who are too young to get that analogy, too bad. :-P)

I had a conversation with a writer the other week, where he complained of being bored. I asked him why he wasn't writing, and he said he wasn't inspired. 

To wit, I explained being a serious writer has zilch to do with muse-like inspiration. 

To wit, he said to me, everyone has their own process. 

To wit, I said to him, looks like yours isn't working. 

To wit, he said, oh, it works fine. Not everyone has the same process. 

To wit, I said, true, but those who write consistently, not feigning being bored or uninspired, have a workable process. You obviously do not.

To wit, *crickets*

Ah... I love the smell of insecurity in the morning...

At some point, all writers, especially new ones, who decide that writing will be a career, not a hobby, have to look themselves in the mirror and ascertain if their writing process is actually a good one.

Just so you know, that looking into the mirror gig... you'll do it for the rest of your life. Nothing stays status quo for the artist. On about a monthly basis, after 8 years of full time writing, I have to do this self-examination, as my writing deadlines/demands keep increasing, so my process needs constantly refining.

My latest milestone: I need to write ~ 50,000 book draft words every 3 weeks, and have it become the norm, not the exception.

How do ya like them apples, you non-consistent, process holding, writing scribes???

So, to date, my process isn't working well enough. Currently, I've decided on a Time over Word Count approach, to see if that will up my production. I will study that process over the next few weeks, and see if it's successful. If not, back to my self-examination mirror I go to further tweak my process, and I will do so until I can settle on one that does get me to my goal.

So, now, it's YOUR turn...

HOMEWORK: 

a) drop the stubborn facade about your non-writing process you hold so lovingly in your arms and figuratively pet. If you're not writing, your process needs to be killed. You can have an ornate funeral for it, if you wish. I get the diva in all of us...

b) establish your own book writing goal(s), and design a new process that you think may get you there. Assess it after a few weeks of implementation, and decide if it's working, or it needs further refinement.

c) and never be stubborn or proprietary or defensive about your writing process ever again.

The rubber meets the road strictly by the words down on the page. Nothing else matters.

Being a writer is mostly a psychological war with yourself. Constantly find new ways of winning each battle, to win that war.

Plot Holes - Where and How To Fix...

 

Plot Holes... 

Like potholes, they often pop up over time and can be as deep as a glacier crevasse, swallowing your manuscript whole, starving it of story oxygen, and having it slowly suffocate and die an excruciating death.

Oh, was that too gory? Sorry, I lean towards the morose side of life...

Nevertheless, those suckers exist, and until you can find them and fill them in, they will haunt you like Edgar Allan Poe when a raven flies by...

So, where, how do writers find the gooey stuff to fill them in?

Good question, and one that centers around the psychological.

"Again, with the shrink talk, B. J.? Geez..."

"Sorry...not sorry. Hey, I yam what I yam, and that's all, folks!"

As a writer digs ever deeper into his book plot, despite a decent outline, black holes can appear where you just can't visualize where the characters go next or what they will say or do, and nine times out of ten, writer stress plays a part, where seeing the trees for the forest is no longer possible.

The Only Solution: leave your desk, and relax your conscious mind, so your sub-conscious can take the reins.

For me, there's only two options: swimming or taking a shower. Water has always relaxed my mind ever since I was a wee tot, and the moment I dive into a pool or lake or let warm water flow over me in a shower, ideas, solutions spring to mind like May flowers.

For you, think back to what's always relaxed you; a long walk, a talk with a friend in a coffee shop, yammering on to the bartender in a seedy watering hole. Anywhere where your active mind can rest, is the place you'll fill in those black story holes, and quicker than you ever thought possible.

IF you allow the mental process to take its course.

Writing a book is a journey far more than a destination. Today, with the world revving at full speed and the finished product is king, new writers think to blaze through a draft at all costs is the thing to do, when to write a great work actually requires a truckload of patience and perseverance — to wait for the right scene to pop into your mind, and the discipline to sit down and seamlessly weave that scene into a long work tale.

Nothing about a good book can be rushed, and the moment you try to force your brain to deliver is the moment those black plot holes will swallow you whole. Yes, there is a force field around a book. Prove to me there isn't! :-P

Note: have on hand a notepad, or waterproof crayons, to jot down those fixes as soon as they bubble up from your sub-conscious, as those precious plot gems can often be flighty. Don't assume you'll remember them when the typing time is ripe.

Find your happy place. Go there. Breathe deep and relax. And let your brain do what it must. Trust the process. Your body holds those grey cells, but don't think for a minute your body runs the show.

Patience. Perseverance. Plot holes Pleasantly Padded.

Pish-posh at my P's plethora!

HOMEWORK: It's Friday. After work, go sit out in the sun, and relax. Your mind's jonesin' to fill in those holes. Can't you hear your subconscious pothole dump truck idling? I sure can.

Writer Fatique - From Stress, Fear, or is it Real?

 

It happens to all writers...that all-encompassing exhaustion...

It can happen after an especially hectic work week, where severe focus was needed on deadline pieces.

Or it can sneak up on you when you least expect it.

But how can you tell if it's real or emotionally driven?

I will bleed out before I'll miss a deadline, so for me the constant war against body stress is real, and it will often mask as severe fatigue. It's my psyche's need to check out from reality for a while to lower the stress, which is not conducive to meeting the new deadlines before me.

I've also sensed a weariness if I'm facing a new book project, but I know there's a distinct possibility it's solely from Fear of the Unknown. You'd think after writing six books, I'd be past this mind game, but here's the kicker, my fellow furry scribes: a writer is never past this mind game. All an experienced writer can do is better judge the type and degree of exhaustion they are experiencing.

Here's what I do to gauge if it's Stress or Fear or Real:

When I'm about to close the laptop and take a nap because I think I can't plunk down another word, I set a 15-minute timer, and keep writing on anything for those 15 minutes. If after the timer goes off, and I'm in a writer flow, not wanting to quit, I know it was from the Fear of the Unknown, aka Writer Stage Fright, and I continue to write on.

If during those 15 minutes, every word typed, although each is a good choice, is like trudging through Flanders Field mud, then I know it's from Stress, of working too long under too many deadlines. The Solution: I'll take a short walk outside to reinvigorate my mind and body or take a cat nap to see if, afterwards, I'm refreshed enough to continue writing for the day. 90% of the time, that break will help, and I'll finish the work day.

If during those 15 minutes writing, my brain simply cannot come up with the right words like it normally would, then I know it's exhausted for real, and I need to wave the white flag for the day and rest, as an investment for a more productive tomorrow, and to ward off Burn Out, a very real writer disability that can take far longer from which to recover. A full time writer must avoid Burn Out at all costs.

There is a fourth option, too, and that can be hunger and/or thirst. And I do NOT mean the empty calorie snacks you slovenly gobble at your desk. 

To discover if your body is lacking nutrients, take the Two-Step Challenge:

First, try drinking a full glass of water, and after a short break, try again to write. If you feel more alert, your body was likely dehydrated. 

If the water didn't work, 

Second, ask yourself when you last ate a decent meal. 

Did you miss breakfast? Eating a decent amount of protein to rev up your day.

Did a writing session go overtime, and you forgot to eat lunch? 

Did you have a decent dinner last night? (And by decent, I mean fresh vegetables, a small portion of lean meat and maybe fresh fruit for dessert.) 

If food is the issue, after you break for a meal, your mind focus will reignite very quickly, or that's been my experience. The same with water, if you're dehydrated. 

Note: feeling hungry is often just a sign you're dehydrated, so instead of automatically ingesting calories, try first drinking water.

A full time writer has to gauge carefully the symptom of exhaustion and respond accordingly. If you do this, over time, you'll experience fewer bouts of debilitating fatigue, as you'll learn to recognize the symptom, quickly gauge its cause, and course-correct before it hinders your work day.

Writing is a psychological endeavor, yes, but it's also a very physical activity, too, even if your body is merely sitting down. It takes a lot of mind/body juice to work with words. If you don't heed the fatigue, and know how to treat it, that book you want to finish, no matter your skill, simply won't get done.

Can't Write Your Own Words? Then Type Out Other's...

 

There is nothing wrong with copying. It's sometimes the best way to become unique.

Many of our greats have done it — I mean sitting down and typing out works written by your literary idol.

Hunter S. Thompson typed out F. Scott Fitzgerald. 

Hunter said F. Scott wrote about life from inside the rarefied world, while Hunter said he wanted to do something similar... by smashing the window panes, breaking and entering into that rarefied world. Possibly the difference between living on the right side versus the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. But you'll notice both authors from both sides made permanent societal dents.

[A Side Tangent: I absolutely HATE when writing conference panelists say, "Everything has already been written, so don't try to think your works will be something brand new, just a new version of the old." I always wonder why in the flying feathery hell they feel the need to say this, even if it's true? Such defeatism, even if valid, defeats the new writer psyche. I realize their intent, but I think the writing world can be so cruel to new writers sometimes. It's no wonder, so many literary artists give up the ghost too soon. I believe the writing world, like no other artistic community, is rife with self-conscious, jealous souls...]

Tangent over. Now, back to the story...

Hunter adored F. Scott's style, and in his early writing days, he wanted to emulate that style, so the best way he knew how was to type out the celebrated author's published works. And over time, that rudimentary practice had Hunter finding his own voice in typing out F. Scott's word choice, scene set-ups, and emotionally driven, symbolic visuals. 

In copying Fitz, Hunter didn't actually copy Fitz. He discovered himself.

Many new writers have great difficulty finding their own voice, and that can lead to a stagnation in their writing process. How does one speak if you haven't a voice? you ask. And I say, "Exactly."

Many new writers, as I've previously said, are inherently shy people, so it can be they haven't much of an outstanding voice in their everyday lives, so how would they have a voice on paper?

I never personally met Hunter Thompson, but he struck me as a typical introvert who needed that alcoholic/drug fix to be less of an introvert, which, of course, was his downfall in the end. But it shows to me, he needed help with his literary voice, too.

If you see yourself this way, you're in good company. So many literary greats have copied down so many literary greats when being introverted in the beginning of their career hindered their success.

HOMEWORK: On the days you simply cannot find the courage to write down your own words, let this not stop you from showing up and doing the work! Instead, copy. Type or hand write your literary idol's works — a few sentences, a paragraph, a whole chapter, and for as long as it takes you to comfortably start writing words on your own. In so doing, you'll sense the flow of that author — in the timing, suspense, foreshadowing, symbolic placement, in atmosphere creation, in the author's courage to say their truth as you will undoubtedly do one day. Typing out the works of the greats is a great start down your own artistic path.

Showing up to work can take many forms. As long as you are working the words, your brain is maturing as a scribe. It's when you sit there on your couch and do nothing but ruminate that you are literally doing nothing to advance as an artist.

[As to that panelist who says everything has already been written: always be ready as an artist to break any universal truth... ;-)]

Got Imagination?

 

You're lying in bed.

Dried milk mustache adorns your upper lip.

A crusty bowl of leftover cereal sits silently on your bedside table, mocking you.

 

You know you need to write. Even the cereal bowl knows that.

But you don't have a clue about what to write.

 

You promised a story to someone, somewhere, due super soon. You're sure of it. You nibble at your nails for nourishment. The cereal didn't cut it.

 

You look up.

Your ceiling is giving you no inspiration... although you do see a teeny tiny spider making web hay in the corner, near where your fern plant hangs that you never seem to water until Firemen burst through your door with a hose, as a clue.

 

You sigh... *big sigh*

You winch yourself up, look over your mattress, and see "things," fuzzy furry things peeking out from under your bed.

You realize they are dust bunnies.

With a look of disdain and disgust, you flop back down, despondent.

 

Then it hits you!

 

Samuel Spider, the warlord of Fernland, and Dirk and Dan Dust Bunnies are joining forces in a quest to find the treasure - the lost bowl of King Tut's Fruit Loops!

 

You leap out of bed, grab a leftover napkin you obviously didn't use in that cereal foray, and you madly jot down the first sentences to a trilogy that goes so viral even J. K. Rowling calls you up to meet for brunch.

 

Hey, stuff like this happens all the time!

 

Go ahead, lie there, look around you, use your imaginative brain. 

Lying in your bed, you can only go up from here!

Fear of the Blank Page...

 

Fear of the Blank Page...

Solution: Don't look at that page until you've already drafted something out in your mind.

Simple-dimple. Easy-peasy. Donesco. Duh!

 

The panster mentality will take you places you don't want to go as a writer of competent and completed works. 

 

Sure, it's exciting, thrilling, to sit down and decide to let your gray cells take you on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, but it'll be gross once you get dizzy with confusion, and you end up barfing all over your cotton candy because you didn't prepare for the ride by packing a barf bag.

 

Okay, gross and clumsy metaphor.

Hey, it's Monday. I liken Mondays to barfing...

 

Fun Fact: Ian Fleming, author of the James Bond series, used to suntan on his beach in Jamaica and mentally draft out a completed Bond book before he ever wandered up to his cabin, fixed a pitcher of martinis, and got to work typing out the tale.

 

Yes, genres like thriller/romance/mystery are plot recipe-driven, so nowhere near the complexity of, say, literary or historical works, but he was correct in completing this exercise, easy or not. 

 

**It's the only way your brain will tell your fingers what to write.** Fact.

 

What's the point of sitting down to write when you have nothing yet to write about???

 

I've not scientifically gauged this, but I think my conjuring up a story vs. actually writing out the story is about 90% to 10%. A TON of ruminating on the plot and the characters and the motivation and the obstacles takes place in my head before I ever even write out my scene cards, never mind actually pounding the keys.

 

Long works are not like flash fiction or short stories. It takes time to formulate a complete story arc.

Why would I torture myself by sitting in front of a computer before I hadn't a clue as to what's what?

 

Seriously. Get real about writing books. This is not some fairy tale romantic jaunt you're on. You don't go on a cross-country road trip never knowing where the damn gas stations are. Why attempt an 80 grand word work, having zero clue where the plot and characters will end up traveling?

 

Plan out that story. Think on each scene - its arc, and how the events and characters will interact and move that arc forward. Don't have a brain aneurysm about it, but allow your mind to flip through those scenes, so it knows where to take your fingers.

 

It's not brain surgery, but your brain must be drafted into the process; otherwise, I guess that Blank Page Fear will rear it's vacuous ugly head. And who needs that?

 

It's Monday. Get thinking. Ian is making a toast to your effort.

FOTS - Fear of Time and Space - the Writer Version

 

FOTS - Fear of Time and Space - the Writer Version...

I just invented this acronym. If you find it on Google, I'll be amazed.

 

I invented it to ask you a question:

Do you think that when you sit down to write, the world is moving on without you? That everyone on this Blue Marble is hustling, bustling, laughing, gathering gobs of fun and cool experiences while you grow moss under your butt?

 

Yes, FOTS is Literary FOMO squared, but have you considered switching your viewpoint of the known fabric of Time and Space?

 

Could it be YOU who is moving faster through the universe than everyone else? Experiencing more, feeling more, living so much more that the fabric has severed you from the rest of the world?

 

Maybe in such warped speed you feel like it's you who have come to a crawling stop when it could be everyone else not able to catch up.

 

I think that with every book written, we writers are piloting a jet-fuelled craft achieving warp speed. Maybe that's why when we focus and choose words and craft sentences we are so exhausted after the feat.

 

The next time you sit down, and you think you'll be left far behind in the human experience, think again. You and your work maybe spearheading through the never-before-seen fabric of life.

The Literary Learning Curve...

 

The Literary Learning Curve...

Ever consider you're riding that wave backwards?

 

Most new artists slowly, fearfully, creep UP the curve.

They start with some topic and some form that they are,

a) comfortable with,

b) somewhat knowledgeable about.

 

And so with every work completed, small or large, they get critiqued heavily on what they "thought" they knew they could handle competently, so the assessment burns their butt, and they often skulk away quietly, drop their assignment on the floor of life, and melt away, never to create again.

 

Does that sound like every writer we have ever known, in the entire universe of writers?

 

Consider doing things backwards.

Backwards for me has been a lifelong penchant.

I'm told I even break eggs backwards.

 

What I'm trying to get at here, is stop attempting what is comfortable and pick a writing assignment that is,

a) completely uncomfortable,

b) completely out of your wheelhouse,

c) demands far greater skill than you possess right now in order to competently complete the work.

 

I know, you say, "But if I keep crapping out at easier stuff..."

I say in retort, "Okay, how 'bout we get you crapping out at really hard stuff instead? 

 

Crapping out is crapping out, isn't it? Do you want to be caught as a cat burglar trying to swipe a cubic zirconia kid's bracelet OR the Hope Diamond?"

 

While I rot in jail, I'd rather have remembrances of the Hope Diamond I got within 5 feet of nabbing just before that damn cop sprayed my eyes with tear gas. Ahh...good times...

 

The Gist: if you attempt an out-of-your-comfy-box work that demands higher intellect, focus, determination, and you submit for critique, and with all the Red Pen boo-boo marks, you re-write, re-submit, and re-write and resubmit again, until your mentor deems the work "competent" — not great, just satisfactory — that will put your skill level on a far higher echelon, quicker, than if you just crawled up the comfy literary ladder.

 

Then, after that difficult toil, return to your comfort work.

 

Now, do you see the difference in your skill level?

Now, do you see blatant errors in your prose, you never saw before??

Now, is your imagination far richer for plot ideas, character motivations, dialogue sincerity???

 

Take my advice. Stop writing in your comfort zone.

 

Stop writing a memoir about yourself. I know that's what you're secretly doing, hiding the rumpled pages under your bed or way back in your desk drawer.

 

Start a difficult piece, preferably short, and fart and grunt and groan your way through it. Hate it with every word choice and every sentence completed. Curse tons. But do it and complete it, and submit it to a mentor for critique. And re-write that sucker until your mentor stops dry-heaving.

 

You will get back a paper full of red pen marks.

You will have failed miserably.

But you will learn to accept failure far easily, you will admit to your faults, admit you need to learn and practice more, and you will readily sit down and re-write and re-write until that failure isn't a failure any longer.

 

Afterwards, your previous comfort level works will be a piece of literary cake to easily gobble. 

 

Trust me. Follow me. I know it works. It will get you from not writing TO writing, now, and consistently in the future. You will have Red Penned your mind as well as that difficult piece. Writing is 99% psychological, peeps, whether you want to accept that fact.

 

FYI: I'm currently writing a 9-stanza poem about Bob Dylan. I've never been a fan of poetry, and in the '60s I thought the wee dude needed a bath and a comb. Difficult much? ;-)

Messy Desk, Messy Mind...

 

Messy desk, messy mind?

Have you looked closely at your work area lately? 

Are papers and pens and clips and coffee cup stains piling up? 

 

Maybe your harried, stressed-out mood is due to your harried, stressed-out environment. No writer can clearly lay down good work in an area where elbows slide off mountains of paper or stick to coffee rings, and that recent donut gobbling foray you undertook last night.

 

Take a half hour - or maybe the time it takes to brew a pot of coffee - and clean up your office. 

Calm comes from calm seen and felt. 

Dig out, clean up, and wipe away that stress.

Vent that Writing Problem...

 

Find yourself in a writing trap. Have you got vent?

Although writing is a solo endeavor, for the overall quality of the work, it shouldn't always be. A writer needs the world outside in so many ways. 

 

If you find yourself up against it — plot cornered, character motivation, wordiness gone feral — grab a friend, and start talking about it. That friend doesn't need to know the ins and outs of your work. They are just a trusted sounding board who will listen objectively, often seeing the trees in the forest of panic and confusion that has the writer incapacitated. 

 

75% of the time, before the writer has even fully explained their problem, as they talk, a lightbulb will flick on, and in mid-sentence they will discover the solution all by themselves, often hugging their friend, and zooming off to write in a joyous frenzy. Did I mention we writers are narcissistic wingnuts?

 

Next time you're trapped in your words, give this tactic a try. If you jump for joy and leave me all alone at the restaurant table, I'll understand.

Your Writing Spot...

 

Your Writing Spot...

Do you have one? One that is specifically carved out for your writing? 

You should. 

And I don't care if it's a TV table and chair beside the basement furnace if your world is packed to the rafters with a thing we humans call life. 

 

Carve out a tiny writer-you lair where your mind and body can be trained to know when it's time to get to work on your WIP - work in progress.

 

And contrary to the pretty pics you've been drooling over in writers magazines and on Instagram, the more perfect and romantic-looking the spot, the lower your writing production level may plummet. You make your hovel too wonderful, and you'll do more day-dreaming than hitting the keys. Fact.

 

Your writing space should have the bare minimum of essentials:

- a desk or a place to lay your laptop

- a chair that will allow you to be comfortable for at least an hour

- table space for a drink and your writing essentials

- a place to fit your book outline/research papers

- (optional) a quiet window view if you need to stare into space for your coffee breaks. Not everyone does.

 * and family knowledge that when you enter this space, unless they are literally on fire, you're not to be disturbed. *It's as much about training yourself to write as it is training your family to know when you write.

 

Writing a long work is about training, and practice stemming from that training, and if you haven't carved out a place in your world to emotionally and physically cue you into knowing when it's time to write, your mind won't get into gear.

 

HOMEWORK: decide on your writing lair locale, fill it with ONLY the essentials, and return to every time your writing session begins. 

 

Your psyche needs to be trained to know when the work should begin.

Follow me. I'll get you there.

A Pre-Writing Ritual...

 

Your pre-writing ritual...

 

Do you have one?

One that gets your mind focused on the scene at hand, and simultaneously calms your nerves?

 

It's essential to get your mind's eye entering that scene before you pound the keys or slap down ink, for if you first "live there," your mind will not fear the Unknown, and will better conjure up the right words.

 

Some writers use music that fits their tale.

Others watch some like-minded short video.

 

I drink coffee, munch on an energy bar, rock in a rocking chair, gaze unfocused out my backyard window, and let my imagination wander back into the unfolding story it knows so well by now. 

 

For me, that may take 20-45 minutes to get into the zone.

Oftentimes, it's my energy level that dictates the length of time. Don't fret about how long your brain takes to get into gear. Let the grey cells do what they must.

 

If you're having difficulty sitting down to write, create a pre-writing ritual, AND stick to it every time. It'll help you form a calming, positive experience, and that experience will better solidify a successful completion of your weekly writing schedule.