Back with a vengeance

Why is that when a writer is blocked, no matter what we do, where we do it, the words won’t come? However, why is it that when they do come, it is at the most inopportune time?

Not that I am complaining! Far from it in fact, but my block officially left yesterday at 6:20 pm while driving 65mph on Interstate 85 in Charlotte on the way to pick up my husband from a retirement party. Here I was, motoring along, when my character spoke to me. Out of no where. I hadn’t thought of her and she was screaming in my ear!  I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t have a digital recorder with me. There were no Moleskines in my purse. Heck, I will be quite honest, I didn’t even have a pen on my person.

Naturally, I did what any sane person would do. I grabbed the closest thing I could write on–in my case a postcard reminder from the dentist’s office and scribbled what I could–in chocolate colored eyeliner. When I exited, we were stopped by a traffic light and I frantically grabbed my Blackberry and started emailing myself as fast as I could. My darling son kept an eye on the lights and let me know when they turned green.

My muse is still whispering me. I dreamed about her early this morning. Most of it involves mathematics, but that’s another story for another day. The great thing is, she’s back and that a makes me a happy gal. 

What did I learn from this? Even if I am blocked, carry my tools with me: pens, Moleskine and recorder. I also learned that my Blackberry has a voice recorder. I guess it’s better late than never!

Cheers!

A Writer’s Habits

Many writers have the same habits to get them in the mood, so to speak. I used to take time every morning to sit down and write. A lot of times, I went to bed with a pen and pad to free write. The shower was one of the best places for ideas and where I had fantastic inspiration. I also carried a notebook with me wherever I went. 

Looking back over the trials of the last 5 months,  I realize I have broken all of my habits. They no longer exist. What irks me is that I was making so much progress. Now, I feel like my only habit is staring at a screen and wondering if I should check my email again or play Scramble on Facebook./sigh

Blogging has always been therapeutic for me. A way of getting the juices flowing. Maybe I concentrate on blogging first thing? That way, it gets my thoughts flowing through my fingers. Another step is reading. I haven’t been reading like I should.  Reading makes my scalp tingle with every new page that I greedily consume. So, reading and blogging. Then on to free writing.

Who knows what will come after that? I am hopeful that it will be very good things.

Completion–or starting over?

I have two books near completion. What I don’t have is an ending that makes me happy for either of them. Do I let them sit longer and stew? Or do I sit on my deck and muse over them? 

Is it my fear that I won’t have another good idea? Maybe, but generally, once I get to where I am writing again every day the thoughts flow out of me. They are organic, pure and rapid. Like an icy cold stream flowing down a mountainside. It’s up to me to warm them and then mold these ideas into something that is pure bliss.

Pondering is always good. But too much pondering makes Jane a lazy girl. I need to get into my characters heads and listen to them. With the events of this year, I haven’t had time to hear myself think, let alone my characters.

I need to run a synopsis of this years events to everyone, but for now, I shall leave it to writing. When some of the pain subsides, I will share it with you. For now, I release my pain on pen and paper, not electronically.

A quick update

I am back to writing, but have been helping care for my Grandfather in his last six weeks of life. It has been a moving experience and I am glad I was there to see him to his final days.

But, I feel renewed and cleansed, ready to be among the living and immersed in my writing. It’s a marvelous thing.

When it rains, it pours.

Wow. I haven’t posted in quite some time. Where does it all go? To life. Life tends to get in the way and those that we love take  precedence. My father-in-law had two strokes and a heart attack in eight days, so we were on the road to Maryland to help take care of matters there. Then, just when things were getting back to normal, my oldest friend from childhood passed away at the age of 35. He was a wonderful man who fought brain cancer until he couldn’t fight anymore.

That being said, I am still here, still writing. Not as much as I would have liked over the last month, but who always gets what they want? 

Talk to me.

L.

Competitive Writing and other conundrums…

I have been thinking about competitive writing and wondering if it is something I should entertain. You have the NANOWRIMO competition every year and it seems like thousands of other small contests. What started this pattern of thought was the advertisement that I received for the Writers Digest Competition. They service my genre and if I were to win it would mean a trip to NYC as well as meetings with agents or editors. Now, I am not sure if I even write that well, but the thought of throwing my hat in the pool gives me goose bumps and makes my spine tingle. 

However, my conundrum is that while I started out as a children’s author, I feel that my genre is changing to a more adult oriented one. Can I successfully work with both? Do I want to work with both? What if I overwhelm myself to the point that I wind up royally blocked…again?

I guess that it’s time for me to look at priorities and not stress about what genre I am writing in for the time being. Right now, I seem to be doing a good job moving between both and as long as I feel that I am creating something that I am happy with, then no worries.

Only time will tell, but I feel that with time what comes more naturally will flow out of me. It will be organic, free and from my heart. Maybe I have already found the answer to my own conundrum.

The Mind Of A Child

It’s hard getting into the mind of a child or a child like state when you have the pressures of adulthood bearing down on you. Paying bills, housework, laundry, errands, volunteer works, etc., can take away your “childish brain”.

The thing is, I have a child. An eight year-old son to be exact. He thinks and speaks like a 3o year old. I am amazed at his thought process. When you sit down to have a conversation with him, it’s not like you speaking to a child, but a miniature version of my husband.  When he started speaking, it was purely conversational and has always been a little weird. Yet he is the light of my life and wouldn’t have him any other way.

However, when you write for children, you must think like a child…or at least have a good idea as what and how they think. I think that was part of the issues causing my block. Immersing myself into a childlike state. I had to grow up fast when I was young and have no memory from ages 6-10. The only ones I have are the memories of elementary school and during the school day. I think it was my parents relationship and the abuse that occurred in it which has that time frame in my mind’s history blocked. *shrugs* Something to discuss with my therapist tomorrow. 

So, that is where I am. Finding my inner child and wanting to live in childhood again…if only in my writing.

My sincerest apologies

What can I say? I needed a break. The urge to write has just not been there. However, I can feel it. It’s a buzzy feeling. One of tingling sensations that make my fingers itch and make me want to sit here and pour my heart out onto paper again. I can feel my creativity starting to stir.

It’s a marvelous feeling. 

To those who have been kind enough to inquire as to when I am coming back? Now seems like a good time. I am just going to write. There are no worries about publishing right now. This is a time to hone my craft. I am taking an English class this semester as a refresher and to help boost my creativity. I am also thinking of taking a class from the Gotham Writers.

Thank you for bearing with me and not forgetting me.

Much love, peace and happiness in the New Year and my wishes for everyone to have the gentle flow of creativity pour from their fingertips.

Lisa

Am I blocked? Or just not that into it?

That is the question of the day. Am I blocked?  Or am I just not that into it lately. The “it” being writing. I don’t know. I am a writer and writers write. ‘Nuff said. However, I haven’t felt like writing. 

I have no clue as to what is going on. Well, maybe not a clue. I hate mediocrity and have a hard time accepting same. That being said, I feel that my writing has been at best, mediocre. In turn, I am putting up huge self-imposed road blocks

Wow. I blog and automatically analyze myself and said issues. Too bad I can’t automatically change my issues. A lifetime of A+ personality trampling all over my creativity and it sucks. Probably because I let it suck and get to that point. *sigh*

I seem to be doing that a lot these days. Sighing. I realize that I am my own worst enemy. At least I have an agenda for my shrink next week.

Well, it’s time to get my tuchas in gear and get back to work. Time to work on my writing and the issues I have with myself when I am writing. I have no idea where this path is going to lead me. However, I would like to think that it is someplace fabulous. Maybe I should keep telling myself that. Let’s just hope I listen to my inner me.

Finding Your Voice

Finding your voice in writing can be a difficult thing at best. I recently wrote a first draft, which turned into fifteen drafts, that I am conflicted over in regards to voice. While I feel the story doesn’t need changes, members of my children’s critique group didn’t like the voice I chose to use. It’s the story of an eight year old boys worst Thanksgiving told by him, but from his adult perspective. It suits the story. However, those that didn’t like my “voice” felt that it would be better suited for a magazine. There were others who loved it and thought that areas needed to be tightened up. 

I don’t want this to turn into an ego-fest. However, when I mentioned this to my friend John, he said “critique is best given and taken in when one has no ego attachment to what is being shared.”

Those are the wisest words I have heard in quite some time.

I am open to constructive criticism and appreciate it. It makes me a better and more determined writer. Yet, the voice thing bugs me. Does all picturebooks geared to the seven to ten year old HAVE to come from their voice? Why can’t it come from an older voice looking back?

All writers have a story to tell. We are always looking for ways to make those words that pour forth from us on a daily basis unique. Why? So that we can achieve our Holy Grail–the publishing contract.

I don’t know what it will be, but I am letting it sit for a month or so. This one particular story that it. It needs a break and I need a break from it. I feel so strongly about it and have never said that about anything else I have written. It is eloquent–those words I borrow from my critique group–something I have never thought to attach to anything I have done.

So, today, I am contemplating my voice and how I vocalize my writing. It’s time to head to the library and do some research. Tomorrow, I will give myself a birthday treat and head to the bookstore to read and drink coffee until my hearts content. Maybe I will be able to rationalize my voice conflicts with the works of others.