Method to my Madness Monday: Writing Through the Pain

           Several years ago, author Susan Taylor Brown gave me a magnet which said: “Write where it hurts. Find the courage to create.”

            I have it on my refrigerator. It did indeed help me find the strength to write “Saved by the Music” – largely autobiographical.

            In the wake of my aunt and my mom passing away, I am still writing where it hurts. But my question is: Where doesn’t it hurt?

            Grief is like an ocean with no land in sight.

            Writing isn’t hard now.

            But writing cohesively is.

            I sat yesterday writing notes about the rest of my latest novel. Scribbles are my version of an outline. (If I were in school I would get a failing outline grade. Also a failing penmanship grade – sigh.)

            These are only tentative plans, and yet I couldn’t get a grip on them. The littlest plot choices had me stumped. Then I got mad at myself for my hesitance¸ and poof! I got on board the “I suck” express train. Last stop: Despair.

            Then I did something different. Instead of wallowing, I went to the gym. Thank goodness for my son, who goes religiously. He makes me want to go, too.

            On that bouncing elliptical I was able to make some plot decisions. They might change – and probably will – but I couldn’t move forward without them. I need order in my writing life, all the more now because I don’t have much in my day to day life.

            So that’s me, writing through the pain.

            The secret to writing is that there is no secret. No formula.

            Ultimately, however you get something to the page is the right path.

            The tricky part is that paths change. Sometimes there’s a downed tree in the way, or maybe even an avalanche occurred. We writers have to be ready to find an alternate route – and we have to make sure we don’t get hit or buried.

            Like Winston Churchill advised, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

Method to my Madness Monday: My Writing Season

Stephen King said that you should write a novel in a season.

Yeah, I get that.

You need to stay in that flow.

Up until now, I’ve written every novel in a period of about three months. The first two – Saved By the Music and The Girl Next Door ­– I wrote together in three months. (Not recommended – but good for a jolt to your writing process – akin to jumping into the ocean during winter.)

The thing is: when you’re feeling it, you’re feeling it. You have to go with it. The more you stop, the more time you have to waste getting started again. Warming up...and even remembering what the heck you were getting at when you walked away.

A sampling of my latest notes. (Scrivener doesn't work for me.)
Can you imagine trying to figure this out months or even years later?

If you stay away from your WIP for awhile, you have to figure out what points you already made, what you still have to work in...and you have to get to the heart of your purpose all over again.

This current novel is in its fifth year – but not really. I wrote what I thought was the novel five years ago – but it turned out to be the bones of the novel. It was the true grit of it – the deep emotion. But I had the structure all wrong – and I had to find a cohesive path for the character to feel all those emotions.


I  had to put some flesh on those bones - and pack some fat in between, too.

It took me the interim years to work up the nerve to do this. Piecing those bones together had been so painful!

As I’ve said before, this is my most ambitious endeavor timeline-wise. My other novels take place in a period of months. This novel has a forty year span. It’s almost as hard figuring out what to leave out as it is to write it.

So I took out the draft and I went over it and I rearranged and cut and added – and now I’m in the home stretch.

Finally, this draft, I’m writing my novel within a season.

 

Feels good!

And who am to contradict a master?

Read this book if you haven't.
You really can learn from a master - and his story of writing CARRIE is awesome!
Quite an inspiration!

Method to my Madness Monday: The Things I've Left Behind

My latest novel is in some ways my greatest challenge. Is this because it’s deeply personal?  No. I’ve written novels like that before. One of them was so emotionally close that it nearly killed me.

Okay, this book is not that challenging – thankfully. But it is my biggest test plot-wise, and in its overall breadth, if that makes any sense. My novels thus far have covered a very limited period of time. One of them covered a summer. Another spanned ten months, the other two – maybe a year. This novel covers forty years of a life. Talk about an epic journey!

A lot of scenes are required in a book like this. I’ve been told a novel must be in at least 80% scene. Problem: scenes take up more room than summary/telling. With so much space being occupied by extra scenes in this revision (because of the 80% rule), it sadly followed that some plot points needed to be dropped – or the endeavor would be 1,000 pages long!

Have you read The Things They Carried? (You should.) In the midst of writing this novel, I’m mourning for the things I’ve left behind.

The first thing to go was the most poignant love affair the character experienced. Why? First, because it was too much of a diversion from the main theme of the book. Second, because it required too much of a set-up and explanation – for which there was just no room!

The second thing to go was a set of secondary characters who were quite amusing and animated, but they also took up too much room for the limited amount of time they were part of my character’s life. I couldn't justify building up a personal trainer (pardon the pun) who would only be around for a few years, or a shrink who was present for a few months. In real life we gain insight from many people we encounter. In fiction, it’s richer and more satisfying to meld these people into one strong secondary character, who will act as the main character's “go to” for the bulk of the story.

The third thing to go was a collection of funny and poignant scenes that did not pull their weight in yanking the plot forward. They were well-written and satisfying and I hope to publish them in a collection of short stories, because they hold up on their own – but in this novel they were like boulders strapped around the plot’s waist, weighing it down.

So many pages have been cut – valiant, fallen soldiers who fought the good fight but made the ultimate sacrifice for the cause. Writing a novel is in fact like dodging bullets on a battlefield, but they’re the ultimate friendly-fire because the sharp shooter aiming at you is you. This is impossible to fathom if you’re not a writer.

It’s hard to fathom even if you are one.

My Aunt Olga the violinist once told me an amusing musician’s break-up line: “I love you darling, but the season is over.”

The same may be said to the things I’ve left behind.

On Resolutions

            Aren’t resolutions funny?

            We spend so much time making our lists this time of year. What will we do differently? What will we improve about ourselves? What habits will we break for good?

            I don’t like resolutions, especially in list form. When I decide to do something, I do it. I don’t call it a “resolution.” To label it something that dramatic seems like a prelude to failure.

            And when I set out toward a goal, I do it without announcement. If I tell people, in every subsequent encounter they inevitably inquire: “Have you done it yet?”

           Who needs all that questioning?

            I attend a writing retreat twice a year. AT the end of the week, my editor asks us to list our goals for the next six months. I rarely do it. If I do, my single is “to be.” Once I made a full-blown list – which I didn’t accomplish.Then I was sad when she shared it the next time.

            I’ve seen people agonize over their resolutions. If they put that much effort into getting things done day to day, they probably wouldn’t need resolutions. Imagine living your life so well that you had not one resolution to make?

            I’ve made a decision to delete all my e-mails as of New Year’s Day. I have over 3500. I don’t know how that happened - except that when I'm writing I don't spend much time checking e-mails, especially when so much of it is junk. If you haven’t heard back from me in months/years – this is why. Please re-send after January first ;) But I won’t call this decision a resolution. I will call it a step toward my mental well-being!

            Seriously, what is it about the word “resolution” that freaks me out? Maybe it’s because year after year I hear people make them, them break them. Maybe the word means nothing anymore, due to careless handling.

            However, I do love deadlines. I use them often. Maybe I like the inherent threat of death. The stakes are high! I meet my deadlines, which are largely self-imposed. I don’t think I would if I called them “resolutions.” They wouldn’t have the same impact. Why? It’s the feeling of the words, that’s all.

            I am, after all, a writer.

            What’s the number one resolution people make? I’m sure it’s to lose weight.

I took a look around the gym the other day. Not too full, but that’ll all change in January. Gyms bank on people resolving to lose weight in the new year to sell memberships. Right now, folks are stuffing themselves to excess because they’re making that resolution starting New Year’s Day. And then, by February, something thins out. It’s not the people losing weight – it’s the crowd at the gym. The new members stop coming.

Resolutions, phooey. They’re ready for their Valentine’s chocolates.

            Hey, there’s always next year to resolve anew.

            Aren’t we all silly, worrying about things we never change? Kind of a waste of energy. When we’re ready to do it, we can do it without a declaration – can’t we?

            Why must everything we set out to accomplish have such pomp and circumstance? Somehow, we Americans insist on flourish. But if it starts with a bang, it may end with a whimper.

            What matters is the part we as a culture don’t focus on: carrying out the goal.

            It’s like weddings, come to think of it. So much poured into that big day. Then, after the honeymoon, the happy couple is stuck with each other and no drama to occupy them. The goal is to stay happily married, but all the effort was put into the initial moments. Doesn’t make much sense.

            With all that said, I wish you all the best in the New Year. Here’s to accomplishing all you set out to do, whether it’s with sound and fury, or in absolute quiet. Whatever works for you.

            Cheers!

Tightrope Tuesday: College Applications and Hard Core Pawn

It is a trying time for me as I feel pressure to get my novel done, do that mothering stuff, and help my son Michael wrap up his college applications. My problem is that I take everything so seriously, and I worry a lot. I don't want to, but I tend to assume the role of Atlas, holding up the world. Meanwhile, the world could probably hold itself up if I let go. But how can I take the chance?

So, to get some relief, I watched three episodes of Hard Core Pawn with Michael.

 Wow, it's as if these people opened a business just to get cursed out by would-be customers. I guess it's editing, but it seems like pretty much every person who walks in takes issue with the owners. Security is always escorting someone out.

It's good for a laugh.

The old me wouldn't have wasted ninety minutes watching the show. But I've learned from my son that you can take some down time and still be productive. In fact, you can be more productive if you let loose and laugh a little.

I find that I learn something from everything. There's a lot about human nature in Hard Core Pawn. When people are desperate, their true selves are exposed.  I would hope not to act like these people in their situation, but then again - I would not be in their situation. It shows you that limited means lead you up against a brick wall.

This show should be screened at college fairs, to show kids what waits for them if they don't pursue an education.

So while I'm thinking about it, let me acknowledge my gratitude to the universe that we can sit back and watch the madness of Hard Core Pawn without being party to it.

I'm doing a pretty good job. Maybe one day I'll let go of the world and see what happens - or at least try holding it up with only one hand.