In life and in writing, the message is the same.

I’ve been sitting on this post for several days now, trying to figure out exactly what I want to say, and how to say it. I’ve been hearing the same message, resurface again and again, in different conversations.

Suit up. Show up. Do the next right thing.

There’s so much in life that I cannot control. So much that baffles me and sends me in a tizzy as I try to understand. Yet, the more I search for the why and what for and that magic solution, the more elusive the answers.

Of one thing I am certain, though: when I put one foot in front of the other, when I shower and make my bed, when I eat my breakfast and carry out my day, when I move from one small task to another, I arrive in the exact right place. There. In the light. For a second. Under the wings of a power so much greater than myself.

Take a breath.
Trust.
Do what’s in front of me.

Not every revelation comes as a burning bush, but eventually I see with more clarity.

All that is true in writing as well, the dizzy worry and that search for the perfect solution. I struggle through a story, and I think, Why? What for? Where’s the damn thread in all this mess? Yet, all I really have to do is suit up and show up. Put one tiny word in front of another. Take a breath and trust.

Because nothing comes out perfect the first time. Rarely does it smooth out the second time. But the more I keep at it, the more I push forward, the more will be revealed. And, in the end (and there is always an end to the madness), there I sit. In the light of a story pulled straight from the heart and written on the page. Maybe it doesn’t hold all the answers to the problems I will face the next time around, but somehow – for the moment – I feel better.

What’s your message this week?

Photo credit: Grafixar on Morguefile.com

 

On Reading and Writing: Quotable Posts

underlining while reading

A host of posts worth bookmarking.

On Reading

It’s Short Story Month at Fiction Writers Review. Here’s a bit of what you can look forward to if you stop by their blog:

There’s more to watch for at FWR during May, like interviews and short story collection giveaways. I’ll be running my own interview and giveaway in a few weeks, when Erika Dreifus stops by the blog to discuss her book of stories, Quiet Americans.

Siobhan Fallon reflects on author readings and the book tour, the thrill and the hardship:

…[T]ouring can be as difficult as it is wonderful. Wonderful, because, c’mon, the ‘book tour’ is every author’s dream…to have your book taken seriously enough that your publisher is actually sending you out in the world to talk about your written words. . . . Also difficult because writers are usually a shy bunch of people…. It is scary as all hell to get up in front of strangers and try to charm them for a half hour.

To authors who brave the mic, I say Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You pave the way for those writers who follow in your footsteps. you enrich the experience of readers as you give voice to the printed word, and you inspire those in the audience to run home and put pen to paper.

On Writing

Cathy Day shares an “end of the semester” lecture online, addressing the ever-present question in students’ minds: Am I a Writer?

You don’t “become” a writer because of a particular degree or a particular kind of job…. Nobody—no degree-granting institution, no teacher, no editor, no association—grants you the status of writer. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be a writer. You have to give yourself permission. It’s an almost completely internal “switch” that you have to turn on and (this is harder) keep on. . . .

Convincing yourself each day to keep going, this means that you are a writer.

There’s so much more in this post worth reading and considering, like what we mean – exactly – when we say we “just want to be published”.

Lisa Romeo talks about the Aha moment in writing and suggests that we stop waiting for it:

In my experience – and I’m talking here in broad terms that include motherhood, writing, marriage, career, relationships – the aha moments come in two general forms. Either they hit me like all at once at an unexpected and always later time: in the shower hours after the marathon work session, while awaking the morning after an argument, during the long drive home from the much-anticipated event… . . . . Or else they creep along, small and quiet at first, and then build speed and grow in size and shape until one day I realize (with very little fanfare) that some new angle, method, mindset, approach, skill or proficiency has worked its way into my usual routine. . . .

Corner-turning, breakthroughs, aha moments have their own agenda, and it’s not yours. Relax. Stop waiting. Your job now is to take it all in, to read, to study, to try, to experiment, to think.

This post hits the mark for me; I am always looking for the burning bush to urge me on, instead of (simply) relying on my own sheer will to write.

What posts would you quote this week?

Spend Time with Your Story, No Matter What.

144/365 For the past week, I’ve been in the middle of a tiny war. My house, overrun by fevers and hacking coughs, stuffy noses and aches and pains, feels like a cesspool of germs. My kitchen counter is steeped in antibiotics and decorated with post-its listing reminders of when and how much.

Recovery is slow. Currently, in order to breath through my nose, I must a) walk around in circles or b) lie down on my right side. It’s like a cruel joke, this little Spring time bug. All I want to do is stomp around, throw the kleenex, complain, and beg for mercy.

Times like these test a writer, especially a writer who is in the middle of cranking out a first draft of a novel. And, here’s one thing I know about first drafts: if I don’t spend time with my story (every-single-day), I will certainly get lost.

Lose steam.

Falter.

Because colds and bugs won’t be the only thing to get in the way of my push to The End,  I had to come up with other ways to keep the story alive and on track, even if the word count was stagnant.

1. Read through research.

I have a short pile of books about the setting and times of my story, and reading through them has been one thing I could do while buried under covers, conveniently turned towards the right. As I read through those books, I took notes on scene ideas that come to mind or on details I wanted to remember.

2. Put pen to paper.

I may not have been able to type on a laptop while I walked in circles, but I could – quick – hand write a scene or a stream of ideas or dialogue onto paper. That counted, as it kept the characters in the novel at the forefront of my mind.

3. Be satisfied with whatever hit the page.

If I made it to my laptop, between the time my sinuses opened up and clamped shut again, and I managed 100 or 300 or (on a good stretch) 500 words, I was perfectly happy. Every little bit moved me closer to my goal.

What do you do to keep your eye on the prize?

*photo credit: anna gutermuth on flickr.com