productive writer?

Today I've been remarkably productive. I got through a whole heap of things that I've been procrastinating about. Everything seemed to work out well and go easily.

Is all this productivity today related to the fact that yesterday I was almost completely UNproductive? I would start one thing and then move to another. Nothing I did seemed to go easily at all. By the end of the day I was ready to cry.

So today I'm thinking, maybe it takes both kinds of days. Maybe the days when we're feeling frustrated, clueless and overwhelmed are just a sign that we're rearranging something underneath the surface, something that will help us out another day.

Impossible to really know. But if you're feeling tired, upset, overwhelmed or just plain terrible, remember that everything changes, sometimes as soon as tomorrow.

How to begin a book?

I'm often asked "How do I begin a book?" or "When I start a new story, I feel really inspired, but somewhere along the way I lose inspiration or the story fizzles--what do I do?"
Getting past chapter three is a challenge for many people, including me. To keep going without getting permanently derailed, I always remind myself that IT'S OKAY TO WRITE BADLY. During a first draft, we're not trying for deathless prose; we're just trying to stay alive. When it comes to the first draft, perfectionism is death--save it for the final draft.
Just get in there, get going, and keep going! You can't write a book without writing it, and it will only happen word by word. Often, in a first draft, the words are nothing special. That's fine. Don't worry about it. Set aside obsession and attention to detail. Set aside criticism. Just write. There will be plenty of time later to go back and polish up what you've written. By then, you'll be celebrating the fact that you have something to polish!

video link to bookends interview

Here's a link to an interview I did with some teen writers last month.

http://www.psdschools.org/services/channel10/nowplaying.aspx?pageid=6801#bookends


Guess I need to look up how to make the link light up. Well, meanwhile, try copying it into your browser. . .

deadline or aliveline?

It's been a while since I posted to this blog. Why can't a writer keep up with her own blog? The short answer: deadline. The long answer is too long, so I won't go into it.

I did make my deadline for revisions to my latest fiction book: VIOLET WINGS, which will be published next year.

I truly love revising. The dreaded first draft is a long way in the past, and so are the second, third, and fourth drafts, etc. During final revisions, the whole point is to get very close to the story that originally inspired all the work of writing it down. It's a time to add in what's missing, cut what doesn't need to be there, and enhance what belongs. For me, and for many writers I know, polishing is much easier than digging a jagged, ugly-looking jewel out of the ground. (If you prefer writing first drafts, there's nothing wrong with that. Remember there's no such thing as a "typical" writer.)

I like working with a deadline looming. I like it so much that I'm thinking "deadline" could be called the "aliveline" instead. Yes, I know that if the deadline isn't met, the "dead" part of the line becomes more prominent. But there's just so much aliveness about having a definite goal in time. It's motivating. It's so motivating, in fact, that when I'm under the influence of a deadline, I find all sorts of inner resources that seem to lie dormant otherwise. Every part of my mind rallies to the cause of getting finished. It's exciting. Enlivening.

Not scent from heaven

Either I have a really sensitive nose or there are an awful lot of people in my neighborhood making use of some really intense chemicals disguised as dryer sheets and "air fresheners."

When I jog, sometimes I feel like gagging as I inhale a big burst of fakey "perfume" that is so strong it burns the inside of my nose. I feel so sorry for the dogs! Can you imagine what it's like for them? Their God-given noses are about a zillion times more sensitive than mine. And these scents are definitely not from heaven.

What does this subject have to do with writing? Well, everything. For one thing, have you ever noticed how important words are in advertising? Take "air fresheners" for example. Now, these things are not fresh. They have nothing whatsoever to do with fresh. If they were named using accurate words, they would be called "things that pollute the air you breathe and then cover it up with a very strong smell." But advertisers don't mind naming things the opposite of what they are if it makes people buy them.

And words are powerful.

Writing it out

I just erased a rant I wrote about how often I hear the phrase "whatever it takes." I gave myself permission to go into a snide commentary about cliched scripts and how tiresome they are, and also how much I love it when someone speaking in public actually uses original phrases.

Somehow hearing certain scripts repeated over and over bothered me enough to feel the need to vent about it. So I wrote out my thoughts and feelings. Then deleted them. I don't know why I feel better having done that, but I do.

Maybe you will too.

Go ahead. Vent. Write it out. No one has to see it but you.

You might learn something from yourself. And chances are good you'll feel better afterward.

seashells and moving ahead

I've subscribed to a few blogs lately. Some bloggers keep up daily! And when I read them, I have vast appreciation for the discipline they are showing. Then I feel like a slacker, and now that the feeling has built up enough momentum, here I am with a post.
I'm thinking about seashells, and they seem loaded with symbolism today. Yes, they're pretty, almost endlessly fascinating in their variety of shape and color, their grace of form. However, right now I have the sense that I should grind them into powder rather than admire them. Why? Because they are, essentially, memorials to a phase of life that's over. And as I look upon their delicate, calcified shapes, I am thinking about the lives that outgrew them, about the creatures that moved on, choosing life instead of stagnating within a shell that no longer fit.

Seashells rest upon
ever-shifting shores of sand--
and life keeps moving.