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Writer’s Resolutions or New Year’s Rally Cry

Here’s the thing about New Year’s resolutions: I could resolve all day long to do things like take my vitamins every day or exercise at least twice a week. In the end, I would still ignore the alarm that beeps on my phone every morning at 7am, reminding me to down the iron and calcium and what not. I would also fail to recover the pair of tennis shoes lost somewhere deep in the shadows of my closet.

Resolutions don’t work for me. But, mantras and mottos do.

When I made the decision several years ago to (seriously) pursue this whole writing idea, I did so with one phrase in my mind: Why not?

What’s the worst that could happen? I thought. I would fail? I was already failing to write by lamenting about the fact that I wanted to write stories and yet only put pen to paper in order to jot down a to-do list or scratch out an occasional journal entry. Why not just do it? Stop whining and start writing.

Why not sign up for NaNoWriMo?
Why not start a writing blog?
Why not contact that best-selling author and ask if she’d let me interview her?

In that year, I finished NaNoWriMo and got my blog rolling and off to a decent start. And that best-selling author I contacted? Beth Hoffman said yes right away and launched my author interview series. Beth has also become an author I want to emulate; she encourages emerging writers, even as she continues to receive accolades for Saving Cee Cee Honeycutt and prepares to release her next novel. Not every author holds a hand out to others. And, I might not have met this woman had I supressed my initial rally cry, Why not.

Why not gave me the initial push to pursue what I wanted, but over the holiday break, I fell into a lull. You know, that place all writers fall into, where we consider what we’ve done and try to figure out where the heck we’re headed. Then, I read a random mass email that opened with two motivating words, Fearless Writers, and it hit me. This year, I needed a new rally cry, one that would drive me to tackle goals with reckless abandon: Fearless writing.

When I say fearless writing, I don’t mean just finishing that short story or submitting that memoir piece. It isn’t only about completing the next big rewrite of my novel or finally compiling that collection of flash fiction pieces (though all of these things are part of the big picture). I say those two words with more intention. Fearless writing also means stepping out of my comfort zone, doing things that move my writing career forward in ways I want but have been afraid to pursue.

This week, fearless writing means filling out an application to work with some great writers in a position I want but am either 1) afraid I won’t get, because I’m terribly under-qualified, or 2) afraid I will get, and at which I’ll fail miserably, because I’m totally not qualified.

Fearless writing.

Nothing happens if nothing happens. I can never attain what I aim for if I never apply, if I never open the story file or write the query or send out my resume. Fearless writing means remembering that I might look down on my accomplishments (or lack thereof, if self-doubt takes over), while another person might very well see them as qualifications. Taking action, in whatever way leads me toward that thing I most want, is one way to push aside my fears. At least for the moment. And, if, in the end, nothing comes of my actions, at least I’ve had the practice of refining a story, of forming a professional email, of gathering a list of what I’ve done in the last year. Of recognizing forward progress.

What will you do as a Fearless Writer this year?

* Photo credits: “fist” from doctor_bob and “keyboard” from justcola, both on Morguefile.com
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From Writing Prompts to Props: Introducing Toshio Ninomiya

Great writers will always surprise you and leave you thinking of their stories long after you’ve reached the end. This is true of my friends at the Retirement Living Center, who came to our monthly writing class last Saturday with not only stories, but props in tow.

We wrote on cloth and memory, a prompt which drove them to search attics and storage rooms and the backs of closets. Each story they read was rich, absolutely. They filled the room with laughter and an amazing energy. I wish you could have been there.

As a “next best thing” to sitting at the table with me, I asked one of the readers if I could post his story. Toshio Ninomiya agreed. During his turn, Tosh prefaced his piece by saying, “In order to read my story, I have to put on this hat.” His eyes lit up then, and he cracked a mischievous smile. And, I thought, Oh my, this is gonna be good. Enjoy!

Old Hat

by Toshio Ninomiya

It’s a real old hat. I bought it for $2.50 about 70 years ago in San Francisco, just before I took a trip to Japan. Most men at that time wore hats and ties whenever they ventured into public areas, just as ladies wore hats and gloves. San Francisco was a very conservative and formal city at that time, unlike what it is today. I expected Japan to be even more rigid in the way its people dressed in western style.

I was sure it had hat stores in large cities, but I doubted most of them had English-speaking employees. I, on the other hand, didn’t know how to say hat in Japanese. I was glad I had the foresight to buy one beforehand.

I discovered in an English newspaper where I found a job, that everyone from the type setter to the managing editor wore a suit, tie and a hat. It was de rigueur, especially for a cub reporter who had to go out interviewing people, mostly foreigners to Japan.

That was just the beginning of the hat’s life history. The three years in Japan were nothing as far as it was concerned. It was the following decades of sitting on my head that took its toll, accompanying me from frigid Alaska to tropic Equador.

Eventually, it not longer had the sharp crease and the snappy brim that once provided a subtle touch of masculinity, male libido you might say, to its wearer.

The question then became what to do with it. It wasn’t like a pair of worn out shoes. It was my companion of many years, my alter ego. Consigning it to a garbage dump was unthinkable.

I made a decision to use it as my hat during fly fishing. Not only would it protect me from the elements, it would label me as a gentleman fisherman, unlike those who wear baseball type caps, that is, people of lower caste.

That too, came to past and the last four years it lay dormant in the storage room of Harwood Place, until yesterday. But from here on, it shall stay in my bedroom closet where I can take it out and put it on my head every once in a while, just for old time’s sake.

Tosh is a long-time member of the group and a published author, having had one of his pieces appear in Glimmer Train. I’m so grateful to him for sharing his work here and his stories with us at the table every month.

~

Next month’s prompt comes from Midge Raymond’s Everyday Writer:
Write about a time when something small – a chocolate bar, a smile from the right person at the right time, a martini – made you happy.

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Author Interviews: the Year in Review

thank you note for every languageThe end of the year is always a perfect time to reflect and say thank you to the folks who help make this blog worthy of reading. I’m the only author who maintains Writing Under Pressure, but I’m certainly not the only one who adds content here.

About once a month, I host an author for an interview (and, often, a book giveaway). I’m always honored when authors take time out of very busy schedules to answer a few questions on their books, to share their wisdom and experience about writing or the publishing world, and to leave encouraging words for others hoping to follow in their footsteps. One way I can give back to them, and to you, is to highlight those Q&A’s one more time with hints of the goodness you’ll find within their posts.

November 2011: Megan Stielstra, Everyone Remain Calm (Part 1 & Part 2). “No more waiting for inspiration to strike. Sit down and make it happen.“

December 2011: Anna Solomon, The Little Bride. “[I]n the morning, when I’m writing, there will be no phone calls, no internet, no criticism or praise to ingest, just me, my characters, my story. For me, this is the only way….”

January: Siobhan Fallon, You Know When the Men are Gone. “[T]he stories in [this] collection are the ones that filled me up, had me awake at night thinking about the sound of a character’s voice or his choice of childhood friends, these were the stories that excited me as a writer, these were the characters whose stories I wanted most to know.”

February: Dave Thome, Fast Lane (now titled Palm Springs Heat). “[I]f you’ve had any reason to think your work can make it in the marketplace—script options, offers from agents, contest awards, good reviews on Amazon or Goodreads, success in other media, like short stories or journalism or advertising—there’s hope. Really sucky days are inevitable, but remembering that there’s evidence that your work is good enough will get you through it.”

April: Shann Ray, American Masculine. “I love the transport great lit gives us. A sense of something true touching our face and drawing us to look into the eyes of that immeasurable power of which we still know so very little, a power I see as love, kindness, and strength in the wake of human degradation.  From that gaze we understand there is mystery involved at the deepest levels of our humanity and at the foundation of that mystery there is love.”

May: Erika Dreifus, Quiet Americans. “[W]hat is so alluring to me about fiction-writing: the opportunity to combine fragments of personal experience, research, what we learn from others, and what we imagine, and create something new and whole in its own right. Sometimes, it’s difficult for me to remember which elements of a story I’ve created entirely and which do, indeed, have roots in my own lived experience. Which is why those stories begin and remain as fiction.”

June: Andrew Cotto, Outerborough Blues. “In both [fiction and nonfiction] I’m trying to tell a story, and [common] themes tend to find their way into my narratives…. The biggest difference to me is…the scope of the story, and, of course, the component of imagination in fiction. In both cases, though, I’m always trying to create something insightful and descriptive and reflective of our times.”

August: Nichole Bernier, The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D. “I sort of wish I had a writing room, some serene window-walled space with a massive antique desk. But even if I did, I probably wouldn’t write there. . . . I’ve become that cliché of the coffeeshop writer. I love the impersonal bustle that’s a bit like being part of an office, the juicy bits of conversation you overhear, and yes, the constant flow of coffee….”

September: Yuvi Zalkow, A Brilliant Novel in the Works. “[I]t takes a lot of courage/strength/risk/stupidity for a writer to take their work out in the world and say, ‘Yes, I want to see if I can make my words affect other people.’ Particularly if you’re doing something that doesn’t follow some well-known standard.”

October: Lydia Netzer, Shine Shine Shine. “Never give up and never quit. Find the story that’s most important in the world for you to tell, and then grab onto it and don’t give up on it ever. When it seems like telling it has gotten too hard, know that you’re doing it right.”

November: Sarah McCoy, The Baker’s Daughter. “[W]hat fuels my writing: giving voice to the voiceless and forgotten or unknown stories.”

I’d say, it’s been a pretty good year for writing, publishing, and some great reading. Happy 2013, and thank you again to the many authors who have graced this blog!

* Photo credit: woodleywonderworks on flickr.com