Kill Your Inner Critic

cartoon by Doug Savage, of Savage Chickens fame

          Everyone has one. Everybody has an inner critic. Sometimes they rear their ugly head when we look in the mirror and spy the two honkin' huge zits that sprung up on our face. (What kind of cruel god would give me hot flashes AND zits at the same time?)

          Sometimes they tromp on in when we're writing. And instead of saying, "Yikes! You are one hot mess,' they say, "That story sucks."

          Most writers have their own ideas and strategies when it comes to rough drafts. Many just hunker down and get the story/article/novel down on paper. Even if you think some of your word choices could be improved upon. Even if you know there are huge holes in the piece. Just get it down, and worry about fixing it up after the first draft is done.

         Some even conjure up an image of their inner critic. Mine is a middle-aged lady. She never wears anything except a faded, thread-bare housecoat. On her feet--dingy slippers. She smokes, and the ash of her cigarette is so long, it's always on the verge of dropping off onto the floor. And she wears glasses--pink-tinged plastic frames. Cat-eye glasses.

         When I have to explain my piece to Cat-Eye Lady, when I have to rationalize my choices to her, my writing becomes stronger. I either become more convinced, or my explanation results in me heading down a different trail with my tale.

         So, how do you handle your inner critic? Do you kill them off (I'm overly fond of "death by wood chipper") or  do you embrace them?

Finding What's Missing

     Oh, many things are missing these days. My youth. My skin's elasticity. My once-perky parts' perkiness. Viggo from the newest Hobbitt movie. (No Viggo? What's the point of watching it?)

     And this morning, I found part of a rough draft went AWOL. Last night, I guess I fell asleep in front of my computer. When I shut my laptop down, I must have neglected to save the work I had done. (Hopefully the stuff I "recreate" will suck less than what I forced out last night.)

     In some of my pieces, what's missing is easy to spot. The beginning needs more oomph. The ending is abrupt or lame. Too few ellipsis. (Yeah, like that could ever happen with me.) Some rocky transitions that need smoothing out.

     Other times, everything seems tight and well-crafted...but editors have a different (wrong) opinion. It's a shame that so many publishers and editors make sooooo many mistakes (she said with her tongue jammed firmly into her cheek).

      What are you missing these days? (You interpret it any way you choose.)

       And since I did watch a 27  3  hour movie, waiting for just a glimpse of Viggo, here's a parting picture...

photo by robertnkellypattinson

Take a Few Whacks At It--Like a Pinata

       Late last week I had a critique night looming over my head, and nothin' to share. Wednesday evening would be here all-too-soon.

       Also pushing my procrastinator's button was an anthology's deadline. I wanted to submit something, but had not started anything until Saturday night, when I sat down and wrote...a whopping three sentences.

      Crapola.

      On Sunday evening, instead of working on lesson plans when I had some spare time, I added to my piece. Now it was about a third or so done.

      Monday evening, Adam Levine was beckoning me ("The Voice" was on NBC) my muse cooperated a bit, and I made a bit more headway. But still, no end in sight..

      On Tuesday night, I got within sight of the finish line. However, it lacked some oomph here and there and it lacked cohesiveness.

      When I woke up on Wednesday morning, I was able to finish it and do some much-needed polishing. After some extremely-needed critique from the WWWPs last night, I submitted my story...just a few minutes ago.

photo by starmunki

      Last week the piece felt really forced. There wasn't anything easy about it. However, after working on it for a few days, and taking several whacks at it, the words busted loose...just like candy from a piñata.

      When the words are dammed-up, let your writing sit for a day or two. Make several attempts. And if the writing doesn't flow then, take a big stick...and whack at it until something busts loose...

My Mama Didn't Tell Me...

       When I was growing up, my mother told me all about becoming a woman. At least, she told me about what becoming a woman would be like when I was a teenager. What she didn't tell me was what it would be like in my 40's and 50's.

        For example, my mom didn't give me a refresher course on gravity. What was once high and perky...eventually falls. Droops. Hangs in pendulous rolls. I would have appreciated that booster class in my 40's.

photo by Lyzlachian

       Also, my mother didn't tell me that I would be able to see the Grand Canyon--every day--just by looking in the mirror. The crevices in my face are deep and wide. I don't need no stinkin' mule trip to see this breathtaking sight (because I do stop breathing when I see the wrinkles and furrows in my face).

       And I've become texturized! Adding texture to painted walls is a wise decorating move, but skin tags? Not so attractive...

      Finally (at least for now), I wish my mother had let me know that I would resemble a seal when I got to be in my 50's. Whiskers in all sorts of weird places have appeared. They're long (by the time I catch sight of 'em) and are white.

      Yes, growing old is fun--and that's just the physical appearance part of it.  What bucket of fun have you opened up as you've gotten older? Old, forgetful but still inquiring minds want to know...

       

Let It Snow, Let It Snow...And Let the Words Flow

      As much as I've joked about snow storms in March and April and even freaky ones in May (in my hope that we get another snow day or two we get enough precipitation to help our plants this spring), I did not want this one that came in the middle of the night (and it's still snowing). After all, my spring break begins tomorrow and I have family in town and things to do and places to see.

photo by land [e]scape

      But not today. It's too slippery and my car's too low-to-the-ground.

      Today, with me all pumped up and no place to go, and my daughter and son having plans for lunch and a movie (in spite of the snow), I'm writing.

       I began a submission for Publishing Syndicate's Not Your Mother's Book On Cats and I plan on finishing it up today. And then sending it off. (There's a May 1 deadline on those submissions.) 

       I also have a self-proposed deadline. I'm working on a longer project, I'm going on a writing retreat with a wonderful editor-friend in early June, and so I hope to get at least a completed rough draft done by then. (The retreat is at an abbey, so there are no distractions--all weekend!)

       (Part of the story has evolved into a road trip, and I got a Trip-Tik from AAA, so I can research some off-the-beaten track places the characters can stop at along the way. Today seems like an ideal day to make some progress on the plot.) 

          If you're snowed in today, what are you doing? And if you're Lisa or Cathy and you're sippin' on a mint julep right 'bout now, enjoy.

        

     

Using Evil for Good Purposes

        The old adage--"If you've got lemons, make lemonade"--can be applied to writing. Really.

photo by Herman McLeod

        I'm working on a longish project that's still shortish. It's a midget that has dreams of being as tall as an NBA-er. But it's, sadly, still 3'6".

        Stuck in a rut, I recently had a couple of unpleasant-bordering-on-awful events slam into me. The first one I'm planning on using in my longish writing piece. It propelled the storyline forward, and got me completely out of the ditch. Instantly. Immediately, I knew that this was what I needed as an impetus.

        The other "stuff" that happened? How am I going to spin that into something positive?

        Well, I hope that some day, I will have a book on a bookstore shelf that I've written or co-written. And that book will be proof that I persevered.  

        What real-life events have you used--to your advantage--in your writing? Share. It's just you and me...