Lessons From WritingLand

         I have been struggling lately with balancing things. Blogging vs. not blogging regularly. Working on shorter pieces vs. working on a longer project (which is on the side of the road right now...I've got the flashers on, and the sign posted in my back window that says, "Send help" but no help has arrived yet). Being open and free-flowing vs. stifling myself (like Edith Bunker).


       While I'm going back and forth on those seesaws, I will say I've learned a few things in the two weeks or so. Here are some of the things that smacked me upside my head:


      * Regularity is a good thing. If we're constipated when it comes to our creativity and our work ethic, we suffer. After reading Lisa Ricard Claro's post about what we should strive for in our writing and our blogs, I realized I had been very inconsistent when it comes to posting. So, I'm going to be posting on Mondays and Thursdays...at least until I get into another rut. (If you go to Lisa's website, not only will you get loads of information, you might also get to take a gander at a hunky hunk--you can get your fill of Philip.)


     * Writing is healing. I've been trying--for the last year--to get a particular story published. It's a story about a friend who is healing after tragedy hit her family. It's a story of strength and forgiveness and unimaginable sorrow.


     I've written the story several different ways, from several different slants, to no avail. This week--finally--I got word that someone might be interested in publishing it in an anthology. Two days ago I read the story aloud to my friend, to make sure there was nothing in there she didn't want laid bare. (Reading things herself hurts her head due to a traumatic brain injury.) By the end, I was crying, as was she.


    And if you want to read one of the most exquisite lines about healing and pain, go to this article on Jean Ellen Whatley.  (A "security box" might pop up, but just cancel and you'll land on the article.)




*  And I know that three is a magical number when it comes to writing...but I only got two things rattling around in my brain today. (And since technically two means I can claim I'm talkin' 'bout plural lessons, I can avoid being corrected.)


    Have a great rest of the week, and place your bets on how long I can last posting twice a week--on a regular schedule. And if you want to comment on the importance of regularity (but don't get too brown about it) or about Lisa Ricard Claro's brilliance or the poignancy of Jean Ellen Whatley's words--I'd love to hear from you.




     






     

Old Writers...Old Friends

       Today I am off to interview an old writer--an author in her nineties. (So, when you say you're too old to write a novel and get it published, she did it just recently. So there!)


            I'm hoping that a little of her energy and spunk will land on me...


       I am also going to be visiting someone who is such a worthy opponent (when it comes to all things Seinfeld, songs from our era, and lit-trah-ture), it makes our constant sparring a delight At least it's delightful for me. For her, it's probably a pain in the rear to deal with my pesky  pokes. It would be like Arnold Schwarzenegger arm wrestling Don Knotts--when Don Knotts was still alive, of course. Me, I'm racking my brain and digging into the recesses of my memory when I try to trip her up on some Seinfeld trivia or try to stump her with a one-hit wonder. And she? She has it all on the tip of her tongue--her victories come effortless.  She is also a writer but she's been balking about writing a book. A collection of her stories would have us all clamoring to buy it. Because of her reluctance, I'm bringing my electric cattle prod...




       One of those stories--either the interview or the story about my visit with someone who seems like they've been my friend for a long time--will be posted on Monday.


        ...And until then, head over to read Jean Whatley. What? You don't know her? You don't follow her? You should. Read this post. You'll do a little time-traveling of your own--I imagine--as you take a bittersweet journey into the past.

Tag!

          I've been tagged. Yes, that's what happens when one is fat and slow-moving--it's easy for them to lose a game like "Tag."

       But wait. This is the kind of game I can play while I am procrastinating mulling over a current work-in-progress.

       Cathy C. Hall tagged me. Or maybe it was Cathy-on-a-Stick. (You never know about that one...) Cathy answered some writing questions, and then passed the torch, for a burning inquisition...

What are you working on right now?

        Right this moment, I'm working on a submission for Chicken Soup for the Soul. I also used to have a pet snake--several, in fact--and am planning on writing a piece to send to Publishing Syndicate for possible inclusion in their Not Your Mother's Book...On Pets.

          As far as something lengthier, I began a "longish" piece last November during NaNoWriMo. It's a little more than 60,000 words long right now, and is currently the object of much colorful language called "The WWWP Critique Group and SD Society."

How does it differ from other works in this genre?

      Well, for one, it's not finished. (Duh.)

       It's a mash-up of novel/cookbook/collection of essays. It's part marathon and part sprint. It's been dormant for a month or two, but I think I've found the thread I need to weave throughout the whole thing. Only time will tell...

Why do you write what you do?

      I began this novel monstrosity longish piece with just a kernel of an idea at its core. It almost immediately morphed into a vehicle that could honor an endless parade of people---my close friends, my granddaughter, my critique group, the authors I adore, blogging buddies--because the story centers around five fierce women writers. With my clumsy deft hand, I could manipulate the characters to rant about Rush Limbaugh, to stalk Jean Ellen Whatley as an ardent fan, to drool over Khaled Hosseini. 
     That's why I was writing it...And at some point, the story took over, and I'm no longer in control.  

What is the hardest part about writing?

       It depends on the project. Sometimes it's the title. There's lots of times I come to my critique group and have to beg and plead for a title. There are other times (like with the piece I'm bringing tomorrow) where the ending is suckola. (And I know that odor when I encounter it, believe me.) Sometimes (very occasionally) the hard part is keeping up with the story. On rare, magical moments, the piece tumbles out all by itself. I wish that happened more often...

       Now it's time for me to tag three people. Tammy. You're it. Val. You're it. Lynn. You're it. Oh, and along the way back to the "safe" spot, I brushed past Shay. You're it, too.


  

Things Learned From Our Four-Legged Friends...

        This evening Jean Ellen Whatley did a book talk at Abode Coffee House. I'd heard her speak at an earlier event at one our local Humane Societies, so I figured this would be the same.

        It wasn't.

Jean Ellen Whatley at a book signing at the Humane Society in St. Louis

        Focusing on the things she learned from Libby, her mutt and travel companion during her 8,600 mile trip, Whatley touched on not being bitter...loving with abandon...the importance of taking a risk...and not holding a grudge.

        One of the things I remembered since, darn it, I didn't bring a notebook to jot things down she said was, "The barrier has no bite." What she was referring to--initially--was the fact that Libby was eager to get at a cat in the neighboring yard, but unbeknownst to the canine, the battery in her electric-fence collar had died months ago. Libby was holding herself back for no reason.

      Isn't that what many writers are afraid of? We worry that if we submit something, it will be rejected and we'll get an email telling us "no" that's full of nasty comments about our writing style. When there is a panel of editors choosing selections, I assume they're groaning and moaning (and not for good reasons) over my story. I worry that my face will magically appear--a vaporous image floating in the air--as they laugh at my serious moments and frown during my humorous ones, and then they'll recognize me when they see me on the street, and then they will whisper about me and...well, you get the idea.

      The biggest barrier that's keeping us from taking a risk is ourselves. And if we don't face our fears, and take a chance on chasing our dream, we'll have regrets. 

       This came at a much-needed time for me. Right now I'm in the middle of a bitter loop that keeps playing, nonstop. Creating ways to splice in new film takes time...But I'm working on it.

        As promised, I'm giving away a copy of Jean Ellen Whatley's Off the Leash. I stirred around the entries from my thousands of thirteen followers, and came up with the name of Lisa, who writes in the buff. Speaking of risks, she's embarked on a business endeavor, and has hung out her writing shingle.

        The book is signed, and has the coolest note. (I'm tempted to tear off that page and keep it, so Lisa, you'd better send me your address quickly so I can box it up and send it off fast.)

        What writing advice do you have? (We all need a little help from our friends occasionally, after all.)

        

Off the Leash Could Be On Your Doorstep

       Right now, I am 22 pages away from finishing Jean Ellen Whatley's Off the Leash.  And yes, I counted.

       I've sprinted through it. Brief, read-as-much-and-as-fast-as-possible sessions before going to sleep. Unfortunately, since I never get enough sleep, every evening, my drooling and snoring took over before too many pages could be inhaled.

      Taking a nap on a Saturday afternoon is a rare treat, and one I got to enjoy today. When I woke up, I read some, and got to a crucial part--one that I was holding my breath over.

       You see, Jean and I have something in common. In her memoir, she wrote about trying to find a half-sibling she had never met, and when I was in my 40s, I (found out about and then) met two half-sisters. it was a life-changing (and heartbreaking) experience.

       Now with not much of the tale left, I'm dragging my feet instead of sprinting. I'm going to finish it as slowly as possible since I don't want it to end. After the final line is read, it will be the end of the journey that Jean took me on, from the midwest to the east coast and then down to Florida and then west to Texas and then over to the west coast...with her Libby, her trusty pooch at her side the whole way.  

       Since I bought two copies (my daughter is borrowing the other one) I am going to give away this copy. To get a chance at snagging it, all you have to do is promise you will pass it on to someone who needs it. And you have to leave in your comment why this friend/relative is such a wonderful friend. 

       To find out how Whatley's book might make a difference in your or your friend's life, check it out here. And then leave a comment. The winner will chosen on March 15. (I promise it will be a trip you will not forget.) 

        (Linda O'Connell got me hooked on Jean, another WWWP is a rabid fan of Whatley's as well, and Jean even makes an "appearance" in my NaNoWriNotYet novel. When I went to Jean's book signing at the Humane Society I saw her publisher--Kristy Makansi--standing outside in the cold, making sure no one got lost. Now that's what I call an incredible publisher.) 

         And now, until Tuesday (March 5), you can get Fifty Shades of Santa free from Amazon. It's an ebook, and even if you don't have a Kindle, you can download (for free) a Kindle app and then read it on your computer (or phone? or ipad?). I've read five of the stories so far,and they're all entertaining. However, none of them are explicit.