Category: side projects (Page 1 of 4)

Draw or Make Something Every Day (in September)

This was an idea my husband proposed today, so we’re getting a one-day-late start to the challenge, but he suggested that everyone in our household (aka me, him, and the kids) should try to make or draw something every day this month.

(If we miss a day, we can do multiple things in a day to catch up.)

I decided that I might draw some stuff for a zine I’m working on (title: “Saturday Morning”), but I might also “make” something for my various role-playing game campaigns (a solo one, a husband-and-me one, a family one, and a kids one). These somethings can include making a PC, an NPC, a map, a location, a dungeon room, a whole dungeon (!), or a treasure/magic item. I’m stealing this a bit from Dungeon23, that fabulous challenge from last year that got me started making my very first megadungeon (which, sadly, I never finished… so maybe I can work on that for my “makings” this month!).

Anyway, I like a loose definition of “making.” We have a similarly loose definition in our Creativity Club at my school. Spurred by their time in my Creative Writing class last year, the students who started the club are welcoming anyone who does any kind of creative endeavor to join, and we aren’t judgy about the kinds of things that count as “making.” We decided that even kids who want to make jam are welcome in the club! (But they should definitely share their jam with us once it’s made. :D)

My “making” for today’s family challenge was to come up with some NPCs and their backstories/personalities for the Hero Kids game I’m playing with my children. They are currently investigating the Basement O’ Rats and trying to find Roger, a local village boy. I’ve got an idea that Roger was taken by the King of Rats at the behest of a dark force that is also taking others away from Brecken Vale for mysterious reasons. This will be the central mystery of the campaign.

Does this counting as “making something”? I think it does. I took an idea, put it to paper, and developed it. I also stat-blocked Roger in case he comes with the Kids on any further adventures.

I’d say that counts for the day.

Now I just have to make something to count for yesterday…

A Ridiculous Amount of Goals (that I probably won’t achieve)

This might be another one of those “I’m gonna blog everyday” type of promises that I make and never fulfill.

But you know what? Having an ambitious goal that I don’t achieve often turns out better than weaksauce goals or no goals at all. Why? Because even if I don’t achieve my lofty ambitions, I still achieve something, and something is better than nothing.

This is the “fail to success” model of thinking. I think this model is better for me than being all, “Not hitting my goals just makes me feel bad, man,” kind of attitude that I sometimes convince myself is true (for myself). (This whole thing should have a giant caveat that says I’m really working out my own methods and not prescribing anything to anyone.)

I also firmly believe in the “establish your practice” model too (again, for myself… but this one I do get a bit prescriptive about with my students). Establishing your artistic practice means developing habits (often daily, though not necessarily) that allow you to do your art, making it a regular part of your life.

I still think having an artistic practice is important. I’m building a life, and I want that life to include making my art. I want that life to include making my art everyday (if possible).

So yeah, establish a practice. Live it everyday if you can.

But I also think setting goals for myself — goals I often fail to achieve — helps a lot. I need to have lots of irons in the fire. No such thing as “writer’s block” only “project block” is an ethos I stand by. Learning this habit of mind has been CRUCIAL for my work as a writer. As soon as I realized that I could write anything I wanted when I sat down to write (and not just write the thing I was supposed to write), I was free. Free from thinking I was “stuck.” Free from thinking I wasn’t “in the mood.” If I have fingers to type or hands to write, and I have some paper nearby, I can write. No “block” at all. If I didn’t feel like writing the current “work in progress,” no prob. I could work on a blog post. Wasn’t feeling like that novel at the moment? No biggie, just work on a short story.

Having numerous goals is how I can stave off blockage. Having lots of writing projects, as Matthew Dicks mentions on his blog, is what gives me the freedom to keep writing.

I just finished Dicks’s Someday Is Today, which was fabulous, and in it, he encourages creators to have lots of goals and work on lots of projects, switching between them as necessary. This is often how I’ve worked in the past. Having side projects just makes sense for how my brain works.

But as I read Dicks’s book the other day, I was reminded not only to have more side projects, but that even if I don’t fully complete them all by my self-imposed deadlines, just by having the goals, I’ll accomplish more.

Take my embarrassingly unfulfilled “blog everyday” goals. On the one hand, I did not meet those goals, which means I’m a failure. But on the other hand, just by setting such a goal for myself, I blogged way more than I otherwise would have. The lofty goal propelled me to get my butt in the chair and write.

I wonder if I’m being too timid in my goals lately. Let’s say I set the goal to write a short story every week for a year. And let’s go on to say that I fail miserably at that goal. Let’s say I only manage to write three short stories that whole year.

Guess what?

That’s THREE more short stories than I had before. And if I hadn’t set the goal, I might have written none.

So what’s better? Setting no goal and getting little-to-nothing done, or setting a goal, failing at it, but writing more than I would have otherwise?

This is how to achieve things.

In such a spirit, here are all the lofty goals I want to achieve in my creative work this year. I am almost 100% certain I will not hit these goals. I am also almost 100% certain that by articulating them here on my blog, I will achieve more than I thought possible for the remainder of 2024.

My creative goals:

Finish writing Norse City Limits (urban fantasy novel)

Finish writing Ysbaddaden and the Game of Chess (second book in Merlin series)

Finish a short story set in my sword and sorcery world

Finish a short story about a mother who learns a terrible secret about her son

Finish a short story set in my Children of Valesh universe

Publish my short story collection

Finish a novella in my City of Ashes series

Blog everyday (this one again!! LOL!)

Send out Substack newsletter every two weeks

Play more role-playing games with my kids, my husband, family, and friends

Create some RPG modules for Norse City Limits and Merlin’s Last Magic

Make a “Saturday Morning” zine series and publish an issue every month

Make other zines

Read more books with my kids (Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Half-Magic, James and the Giant Peach, the Hobbit, the Silver Chair, Horse and His Boy, Magician’s Nephew, Last Battle, more Little House books, How to Train Your Dragon series, Harry Potter)

Start naalbinding again (finish the hat I started for my son and make another one for my other son)

Practice my cartooning/comics drawing (for the zines)

Write essays, poems, and fiction that will serve as models for my students next school year


Can I meet all these goals? Maybe. Probably not. But having lofty goals means making more progress than having none. If one side project is good, then sixteen side projects is better.

I’ll try to take a page out of Dicks’s blog and post updates on my progress. I can almost guarantee that I will not meet some of these goals. But having these irons in the fire means there’s absolutely no excuse for “writer’s block.” There is ALWAYS a project I can switch to and work on when BIC time comes.

The No-Surf Files

I check my email way too often. I don’t even really want to check it most of the time, but it’s just something *to do*, something to click on, something to tap on my phone. Most of the time it’s pointless. I mean, has anyone really emailed me between now and the five minutes prior when last I checked my inbox?

No. No, of course not.

But I check anyway. “Who knows?” my addicted brain always says. “It’s possible a new message came in.”

So I click and suddenly I’m not just checking email but surfing the internet in general, clickity click click clicking away.

Ugh.

I decided I need to commit to checking my email TWICE a day, once in the morning and once in the late afternoon, and beyond that, nothing more. But it’s not enough to quit doing something. I need to replace the itchy email urge with something better. Something that will make me *feel* way better than the yuck feeling I get from wasting the day checking email and surfing the web.

I thought doing something analog, something with my hands that wasn’t clicking a mouse or tapping a keyboard, might be the way to go, thus was born my idea of doing “The No-Surf Files,” aka a mini zine about whatever random thoughts are in my head when I’m trying to avoid the internet.

I did Issue #0 yesterday, and it was pretty fun and got me away from the computer. I have yet to do Issue #1 because I haven’t really been tempted to surf the internet aimlessly, and because I’m sticking pretty closely to my “check email twice a day” rule. I did check my email three times yesterday, but that’s only because I was trying to figure out the time for a school fundraiser event, and they hadn’t yet emailed the information to us. But besides that, I’ve kept myself off the email merry-go-round.

I already have several blank mini zines folded and ready to go, so now it’s just a matter of waiting for that icky internet urge to start itching, and voila! I will have my no-surf mini zines waiting for me to fill.

A Side Project That Took Over My Life

Seven years ago, I hadn’t yet started my career as an independent author. I was still finding my way as a writer, so I decided to write a NaNoWriMo novel based on my memories of childhood.

It wasn’t a memoir, though. I’m a fantasy author. I wanted there to be some magic in this story, so I had to make it fictional. My inspiration was Ray Bradbury and his beautiful ode to childhood, Dandelion Wine, a novel I hold dear to my heart.

So I invented Sarah Lewis, a ten-year-old from California who spends the summer with her grandparents in Michigan.

(“Sarah Lewis” by the way is an homage to two icons from my childhood: Sarah, the name of the lead character in Jim Henson’s Labyrinth, and Jenny Lewis, child star of the 80s and early 90s. I wished I could be them when I was a kid.)

I worked on the NaNoWriMo novel for awhile back in 2015, but then I set it aside and started work on my first published novel, The Thirteen Treasures of Britain. Treasures came out just after I had given birth to my second child (in 2016), and I was all set to start working on book two of the Merlin’s Last Magic series, when I found out I was pregnant again.

This third pregnancy threw me for a loop, and to take my mind off the mounting pressure to finish my Merlin series, I returned to my little side project.

Avalon Summer became my low-pressure respite from the demands of my day job, motherhood, and trying to write the next book in my fantasy series. When I was working on Avalon Summer, I could return to the days of my childhood: to the early 90s, to endless bike rides, to playing adventures in the woods. I would cue up my old R.E.M. albums and just write, remembering what it was like to be a kid again.

I worked on this book off-and-on for several years, just dipping into it when I needed a break from normal life.

But then about a year or so ago, something happened. I started to work on Avalon Summer A LOT. Maybe it was the pandemic, or maybe it was just the right time for it, but I became so caught up in Sarah’s story that my nice little side project became the main event. I started working on Avalon Summer all the time.

And then something else happened.

In the course of the story, Sarah finds a dusty old paperback called Gates to Illvelion. It contains some eerie parallels to her own life.

When I was writing about the paperback and its effect on Sarah, I realized I needed to make up some chapter titles, some characters, and some plot points for this non-existent book to fit into my narrative for Avalon Summer.

So I did.

And then I decided to write the entire book.

The result — Gates to Illvelion — is an homage of sorts to the pulpy genre fantasy of the 1970s. Inspired by writers such as Peter S. Beagle, Patricia McKillop, and Andre Norton, I wrote Gates to Illvelion as something ten-year-old Sarah would get immersed in and even disturbed by.

I wrote it under a pen name — A.R. Rathmann — and not to spoil things too much, but I decided to make the identity of A.R. Rathmann a plot point in Avalon Summer.

If this sounds a little confusing, well, it is.

I wrote a coming-of-age novel in which a young girl is obsessed with a fantasy book by a mysterious author, and then I went and wrote the fantasy book this young girl becomes obsessed with.

Because of the nature of these two projects, I decided to do a Kickstarter campaign that showcased the connection between these two books. Readers scrolling through Amazon wouldn’t know or understand that Gates to Illvelion is a new release pretending to be an old vintage paperback. And they certainly wouldn’t understand that Gates to Illvelion plays a role in the plot to another novel, Avalon Summer, a coming-of-age story about a girl spending the summer with her grandparents in Michigan.

These two books have a story behind their creation. The Kickstarter was my way of sharing that story.

But now the books are getting released to the general public on May 30, 2023, so I thought a blog post was in order to explain the connection between them. Buyers scrolling through Amazon still won’t know the connection between Gates to Illvelion and Avalon Summer, but I’m hoping word of mouth will provide some illumination.

Of course, each book can be read independently of the other. They aren’t connected except in a meta, self-referential way.

And I’ve kept the pen name “A.R. Rathmann” separate from my “Jennifer M. Baldwin” identity. A.R. Rathmann is listed as a separate author on the retailer websites and on Goodreads. Perhaps this isn’t the best tactic marketing-wise, but it’s how I wanted to do things.

Summer is almost here, and so are Avalon Summer and Gates to Illvelion. I hope you’ll want to sit on the handlebars and come along for the ride.

Early Morning Writer

I’ve been trying to start this habit for AGES. Everyone who works and has kids seems to swear by waking up in the wee hours of the morning and getting their writing done before anyone else is up. They make the sacrifice to go to bed earlier, or simply give up some of their sleep, so they can devote time to their writing.

It sounds like a good solution, right? If life is busy and there’s no time for pursuing one’s creative work during the day or evening, then get up before dawn and do the work then. Simple. Effective. Before you know it, you’ve written a novel in your little early morning productivity hour.

Except, I have always struggled with this strategy. I can train myself to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier (or, as often happens, sacrifice my sleep), but what I cannot do is form coherent, interesting, or evocative sentences in the pre-dawn hours. I just can’t. My brain doesn’t have any thoughts or ideas that early in the morning. 6:00 a.m. is for shaking the fuzz out of my head, not for making up stories.

And if I wasn’t going to be an early morning writer, then I’d have to be a night time writer, slinking down to the computer after putting the kids to bed and trying to plunk out a few plot points before exhaustion claimed me. But that’s just it: by the time night rolls around I’m EXHAUSTED and cannot form many coherent thoughts either.

I know this sounds like a lot of whining, but there’s a somewhat happy ending here. You see, today, I tried again with the morning writing thing. I woke up at 6:00 a.m. and headed down to the writing computer, and I told myself I wasn’t going to do anything else but write fiction. No writer’s notebook. No reading. No nothing. Just plunk those keys to make some sentences and write the next line in the story. I was going to force myself to write, and by some kind of miracle, I did! I wrote about 800 words in a little less than an hour.

Now, this was just one day, and one day doesn’t make a pattern or a habit. But I figure if I keep doing this every day, if I keep forcing myself to write (even if the writing is crap-ay), then over time, my mind and body will be trained to associate early morning wake ups with heading down to the computer to write.

This kind of pattern/habit building happened to me recently with my back injuring in late December. I was in so much pain (mostly down my leg due to my nerve being pinched) that the only relief I could get was to walk slowly around the house. I had to do — I mean I HAD to do it or I would be in excruciating pain — and because I did it every day without fail when I woke up in the morning, I started doing it automatically. Alarm goes off, do some stretches, roll out of bed, start walking. I used that walking time to listen the the Liturgy of the Hour, so that became part of my daily ritual as well.

And after fourteen weeks of waking up and walking around the house every dang morning, I find that I simply cannot start the day without doing it. My brain doesn’t even make the conscious decision anymore. I get out of bed and start walking. That’s just what I do.

I’m hoping to develop the same pattern/habit with my writing in the morning. Just like my walking, I don’t have to do it perfectly. Most of my morning walks are me hobbling along at a snail’s pace just to get my back and legs feeling normal again. It’s not pretty. But it doesn’t have to be pretty. The walking is what’s important, and the repetition that builds the habit.

So tomorrow, after I wake up and walk, I’ll head downstairs to the computer and start typing. I’ll write anything — a new short story, the continuation of an old one, the prologue to a novel, a random sentence in the middle of my work-in-progress — and I won’t think too hard or too much about it. I’ll just force myself to write, just like I had to force myself to walk despite the agonizing pain.

Knowing that I have to be a little hard on myself to keep the pattern going, it will be worth it if I can change this aspect of my writing process and work habits.

Today’s only the first day. Maybe after I’ve been at it for a week or two, I’ll revisit how this experiment is shaping up. I hope I can make it stick this time.

« Older posts

© 2024 Jennifer M. Baldwin

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑