Category: writing process (Page 1 of 14)

“Rule 2: General Duties of a Student: Pull Everything Out of Your Teacher: Pull Everything Out of Your Fellow Students”

September 28, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Who are my teachers? Who are my fellow students?

Finding teachers (recognizing them, really) wasn’t too hard, but this Rule also mentions fellow students and that was a much harder find. Who exactly are my fellow students? Without being enrolled in a school or class, I’m kinda just on my own. My teachers are the successful authors and artists and thinkers whose books I can study, but who then are my study-buddies?

Perhaps the real answer is one I’ve been avoiding for over a decade now.

My fellow students are my fellow writers who are at or slightly above where I’m at right now in my craft and career.

The trouble is that I am resistant to joining writers’ groups. I always have been. I’m not sure why either, other than I’m not naturally a joiner and I am painfully shy and awkward when it comes to meeting people and making friends.

The other problem is that I’m not exactly sure where to look for fellow students who are at my same level. I can find beginning writers easily enough. But I’m not sure how helpful that would ultimately be for my own growth.

And I can identify writers who are further along than me, but they won’t want me in their groups for the same reason I’m resistant to joining a group of beginners: too much gap between their skills and mine.

Finding fellow students is probably a good project for me to undertake, but for now, for this week-to-week experiment in following Sr. Corita’s Rules, I’m fudging it a bit and defining fellow students as those writers and artists whose newsletters I subscribe to. They are also, in a lot of ways, my teachers. Teacher/student is a fluid designation, then. Those who can teach us are also themselves students.

I am both teacher and student too. In some ways, Rule 2 and Rule 3 are leading to the same destination: pulling everything out of everyone. Who the teacher is and who the student is may change and shift at times, but our “General Duties” remain the same.

But how to do that pulling? How does it work to “pull everything out” of one’s teachers, one’s fellow students?

What I did this week was read and listen and watch more deliberately. I took more notes on what I was reading. I spent time with pieces of advice and examples and words of wisdom from my various teachers, reflecting on these small lessons in my notebooks, mulling them over and trying to make connections. I spent more time copying quotes and ideas down, letting them sit for awhile before moving on to the next chapter or the next video.

Essentially, being more attentive and more thoughtful.

Also this week, I just started reading In Praise of Slowness, and I think its thesis fits with my idea that “pulling everything out” requires thoughtfulness and deliberate study. It requires a slowing of the pace so that ideas can sink in and take root. Carl Honore’s book is also proving to be one of my teachers at the moment, so I need to make sure I pull everything out of his book that I can.

I’ll admit that following Rule 2 this week was harder than last week’s Rule 1. Rule 2 requires a lot more slowness, more time for inquiry. It’s not just about being in a place but about relationship between people (even if those people are only coming to me through the pages of a book). Relationship, study, learning: these things take time. If things are too haphazard, the “pulling out” of everything turns into a half-hearted scurrying for crumbs.

I tried hard to do more than scrape up crumbs this week, but I’m not sure how successful I was. Got some good lessons and ideas from my teachers (namely, Derek Sivers, James Scott Bell, Ursula Le Guin, Mervyn Peake, and Rebecca Roanhorse). But reflecting back on the week, I don’t think I’ve quite achieved EVERYTHING.

Maybe the lesson is that this Rule requires persistence. Pulling everything out of one’s teachers and fellow students requires patience, diligence, and humility. It can’t be achieved in a week. Not even a semester or a year. We often only have limited time with our flesh and blood teachers and students, and so trying to pull everything out of them in the school term can feel like an impossible race against time.

But what if we continue to pull things out of our teachers even after the last bell has rung and summer vacation beckons? What if we hold onto their wisdom, their advice, and keep it rolling around our brains, peppering our journal entries with their ideas, mulling things over well past the semester’s end?

I often think back to things I learned in classes gone by, of wise words from my teachers, of projects and lessons done in a classroom or workshop. I continue to pull new things (and old things renewed) out of those experiences. The general duties continue even as the classes have ended. Even decades after.

Just as I am continuing to trust my place in the downstairs room, I have to continue to pull things out of my teachers, my students, and myself. Attentiveness and trust. Thoughtfulness and patience. Slowing down and sitting with things for awhile. Openness and humility.

Rule 2 is a general duty. It’s always there for us to follow. We must never stop the work of drawing forth the good and the true from one another. We are all us teacher/student. Not just for a week, but always.

“Rule 1: Find a Place You Trust and Then Try Trusting It for a While”

September 21, 2024 / / 1 Comment

This is the first rule of the Immaculate Heart College Art Department under the direction of Sr. Corita Kent.

I’ve decided to take one rule each week (hopefully) and try to live it out as fully as possible (while also continuing to live out the previous weeks’ rules).

Rule #1 is to find a place I trust and then try trusting it for a while. This place is my downstairs desk in my house. It’s kinda been my “place” since we bought the house and bought the desk, but I feel like this past year I haven’t been using the desk as much, for various reasons, and I’d like to get back to this “bliss station” and see how it helps me work.

I think I drifted away from the desk because I felt a bit lonely down here, like I was abandoning my husband and kids. But when I tried to work up in the main areas of the house (dining room, living room), I found that I was perhaps too available? Maybe? There are definitely more distractions up there. It’s warmer, both temperature-wise and relationship-wise, but maybe the slight cold and emptiness of the downstairs room desk is a good thing. I’m creating stuff to fill that void?

So I’ve been hanging out down at the desk this week, making a point to do morning pages here five-out-of-the-seven days, and also writing some fiction here too.

I’m trying to spend the time in this place, trying to give myself permission to be here. Thinking less about the work I’m doing and more about being in the place itself. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it’s a subtle shift that speaks to “trusting.”

I can’t trust a place if I don’t allow myself to dwell in it a bit. It can’t be transactional. If all I’m doing is trying to hit a word count or complete a task, then I’m focused on the end product, on the thing and not on the place. Nothing wrong with focusing on the thing, but I feel like trusting the place requires that I spend time there, emphasizing the dwelling and not necessarily the doing.

Though what I’ve found is that once I settle into my downstairs desk and allow myself to be fully present in this place, I end up getting a lot done. It’s me saying, “I’m here. What shall I do while I’m here?” For whatever reason, that trust — the trust that says, “I will end up doing something fun and worthwhile here” — has resulted in me having lots of fun and doing stuff that feels worthwhile.

Part of that trust is also accepting that when I come downstairs and place a little distance between me and my family, it’s a good thing. It’s like Madeleine L’Engle’s need to go to the brook in the afternoons at her farmhouse:

“I used to feel guilty about spending morning hours working on a book; about fleeing to the brook in the afternoon. It took several summers of being totally frazzled by September to make me realize that this was a false guilt. I’m much more use to family and friends when I’m not physically and spiritually depleted than when I spend my energies as though they were unlimited. They are not. The time at the typewriter and the time at the brook refresh me and put me into a more workable perspective.”

I don’t stay in my place all day long. It’s a respite. A short span of time, but a very full and meaningful span, and by trusting that it will refresh me, it does.

I can’t say I’ll always be able to do my creative work at my downstairs desk. Sometimes the place I must trust will change. But for now, I’m glad to have this place. I’m going to keep trusting it for a while.

Pocket Notebook

July 27, 2024 / / 0 Comments

I keep a writer’s notebook, and since I also carry a backpack with me most places, I used to take the WNB with me everywhere.

But honestly, I hardly ever took the full-sized notebook out in public and wrote in it. Just too unwieldy.

I like the idea of having one notebook where I keep all my thoughts, but since I’ve been watching a bunch of notebook “advice” videos, I’ve warmed up to the idea that maybe I need different notebooks for different things and different situations.

I started writing my fiction in my “fiction notebook.” And then I bought a Leuchtturm 1917 notebook for my RPG notes. Then, finally, I bought a little pocket notebook to be my “on-the-go” notebook for random thoughts and ideas. Basically, a substitute for my main writer’s notebook.

I almost bought a Field Notes pocket notebook, but my kids really love these little blank comic book notebooks from the Unemployed Philosophers Guild, and they’re the right size to fit in my pants pockets, so I thought I’d go a little quirkier than Field Notes and get a notebook from the Unemployed Philosophers instead.

There are many to choose from, but I went with the Cloudspotting one to start because cloud-watching is also a hobby I’ve wanted to start for a while, so I thought I could capture my random thoughts and sketch and identify clouds at the same time.

So far, about half-way through the notebook, I’m glad that I’ve started carrying it around almost everywhere I go. First, it allows me to be unshackled from having to take my backpack everywhere in order to have my full-sized notebook with me. I can leave my backpack at home when I go for a walk around the neighborhood or to the library or wherever, and yet I can still jot down some ideas in my cloudspotting notebook if necessary.

I find that I DO jot down things more often now that I’m carrying the pocket-sized notebook. It’s not nearly as weird to take out my little notebook and write a few lines of dialogue for a story or a blogging idea or whatever. And there’s the added bonus of getting to sketch some clouds if the mood takes me. (I don’t always use the cloud-sketching areas, though, so maybe next time I’ll get a more “normal” writing notebook.)

Often, I take the ideas in the pocket notebook and transfer them to my main notebook or use them in my fiction. I end up spending a lot of time during the day thinking about my fiction, about my writing ideas, and this, in turn, keeps my momentum going for my various writing projects. I’m less “stuck” since carrying around my pocket notebook.

In theory, I like the idea of one notebook for everything, but in practice, the multiple-notebooks strategy really does allow me to do more writing throughout the day. I grab my pocket notebook instead of my phone when I’m waiting in line or watching my kids at the park. I flip through it to reread earlier ideas and ruminate on them a bit more, sometimes expanding them, sometimes challenging or changing them. I look at the clouds and try to figure out which type they are, spending a few minutes sketching and paying attention to the weather and the wind.

And yeah, I like that my pocket notebook is a little different, that it’s got a bit more character than an ordinary Field Notes or whatever. I smile when I see the Cloudspotting cover. It’s kind of silly, but the silliness actually makes me want to use it more. I don’t know why, but the whimsy of a “cloud” notebook (or a “Captain’s Log” or “Neverland Passport”) gives me a jolt of pleasure that’s just strong enough to counteract the lure of my phone. I’m trying to break the habit of looking at my phone whenever I get bored, and if it means carrying around a quirky little notebook, then that’s what I’ll do.

And I’m getting more writing done too. Which is the whole point of a notebook anyway.

Killing Critical Voice: A Re-watch

July 2, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Last November I took the WMG Publishing workshop called “Killing the Critical Voice” with author Dean Wesley Smith. At the end of the workshop, he told us to put a reminder in our calendars to re-watch the workshop in six months. That reminder popped up for me the other day, so I’m going to attempt a re-watch of the workshop.

The first time around, “Killing the Critical Voice” was a HUGE help to my productivity. It gave me a lot more confidence as a writer. Paired with another WMG workshop called “Speed,” I was able to get back into a groove with my fiction that had been previously stalled since my return to teaching last August.

At this point, in June 2024, I’m not quite sure I need to re-kill my Critical Voice — I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on the ways Critical Voice often tries to shut me down and make me doubt my work, and I’ve got systems and habits of mind to help battle that doubt — but maybe a little extra boost of confidence will do me good.

As I read and study what other writers and artists say about their creative practice and mindsets, the more it becomes clear that the prolific artists understand that Creative Voice wants to make things, whereas Critical Voice wants to stop things. “Fix” is Critical Voice talking. “Create More” is Creative Voice talking. It’s interesting that the Matthew Dicks book I just finished also emphasized how important it is to create as much as possible. Dicks’s message was that making things leads to making more things. Smith’s Critical Voice workshop has a similar message. Critical Voice exists to stop you. Creative voice is abundant. It wants you to make MORE.

I will say, my fiction writing has been going slowly lately. Feels like Critical Voice is sneaking in. One of my biggest frustrations as a writer is that I can’t seem to produce words as quickly as I’d like. I want SO BADLY to be highly prolific, but I can’t seem to get it going. Every year, I wish I could write four or five novels, and every year, I’m disappointed. I know this is Critical Voice stopping me. Yes, there are days when I don’t have a lot of time, but honestly, I can find the time if I wanted to. But instead, when I have pockets of time, I tell myself, “I don’t have enough time to really get started.” It’s that phrase, “really get started,” that’s a killer.

I am afraid to start. That’s ultimately what’s stopping me. My Critical Voice is whispering negative thoughts all the time: “Why bother starting. It won’t be good enough.”

Good enough for whom?

Well, that’s my problem right there. I want my writing to be judged well. I want to be lauded. And it’s that desire for accolades, for atta girls, that stops me.

If there were no standards to measure up to, I could write more and faster and not let the “lack of sufficient time” stop me from getting a few sentences or paragraphs down.

If I wrote some fiction in all the little pockets of time I had throughout the day, I could probably write 2,000 words per day easily.

IF.

If I used those pockets of time to write. If I followed Bradbury’s advice: “Don’t think.” If I wasn’t afraid of being judged badly.

So maybe I DO need this re-watch of the Killing Critical Voice workshop.

I’m still blocked. I’m still operating from a fear mindset.

Thinking about my goal-setting for 2024, what if I went really big? What if I said, “My goal is to write FOUR novels in the remainder of this year”?

That seems like an impossible goal at the moment, but what if it isn’t? What if I could write 2,000 words per day just by writing whenever I get the chance and not being afraid to write badly? What if I made sure to do the best I could every time I wrote a sentence but not WORRYING if others think my best is “good enough”?

If I could write 2,000 words per day, starting now, I could write four novels this year. That’s crazy. But not crazy if I stop operating by fear and start operating with joy.

Bradbury calls it “gusto.” It’s the Creative Voice wanting to play. What would my writing life look like if I called my Creative Voice to come over and play?

Looking at my kids, they pretty much play every second of their lives. It’s us, the parents, who are trying to shut down the games for five freaking seconds so we can finish a meal or brush some teeth in a reasonable amount of time. But the kids? They are ALWAYS PLAYING. Everything is a game to them.

This play-based mindset is what I must cultivate in my writing practice. Every free moment must be for playing in my creative worlds. If I can make that switch, I really can write four novels this year. If I can make that switch, I can write so much more than I ever thought possible.

I was skeptical that I needed this re-watch of the workshop, but jokes on me. I needed it.

Kill the Critical Voice. Set the Creative Voice free.

Goal: Finish Norse City Limits

June 9, 2024 / / 0 Comments

My top writing goal for 2024 is to finish my novel, Norse City Limits. Inspired by both my love for Icelandic sagas and my love for film noir, NCL mixes elements from Grettir’s Saga and Norse mythology with some of my favorite noir tropes.

I started out writing it late last summer and made a lot of progress right out of the gate. I guess I was excited about starting something new. The idea for NCL has been rattling around my brain for years, so that build-up and energy just flowed right through me when I finally started drafting. I think I wrote roughly 15,000 words in those first few weeks.

Then the school year started and I began teaching again. That slowed things down considerably, and because I wasn’t outlining my chapters as I went, I ended up forgetting a bunch of stuff as my momentum stalled and I didn’t write everyday.

I wrote a short story, started another short story, started a novella, and then went back through and reread all of the NCL manuscript thus far, taking notes and outlining each chapter.

After that process, I finally resumed drafting the novel, but with a bit of a twist. The school year started with me wanting to experiment with having the students draft by hand. Basically do all their writing in notebooks and on pads of paper. This was my way of resisting AI, I guess. Of getting us all to think more intentionally about our bodies and how doing things by hand shapes how we think.

I realized that while I do a lot of writing by hand, mostly in my writer’s notebook, I was still drafting all my fiction at the computer. I can type faster than I can handwrite, and typing just made sense. Saves times, right?

But that meant that I could only write when I had access to my computer, to the desktop that sits in our basement. That meant that my writing time was limited to those moments when I was home and could steal away to the basement to write.

Translation: I didn’t get a lot of writing done once school started because I didn’t have access to my computer. And even when I did have access to it, sometimes I didn’t feel like holing myself up in the dank, cold basement. Sometimes I wanted to sit on the couch with my husband in the evening, just to be near him, to spend quiet time together.

After watching this video on Neil Gaiman’s writing routine, I realized that I really love writing in my writer’s notebook, and writing by hand has always made me feel more experimental and loose, AND I was asking my students to draft their writing by hand, but I was still shackled to my computer, so the answer seemed obvious.

I needed to start drafting my stories by hand.

I took out the lovely leather notebook case my husband got me a few years ago, stuck a couple of Moleskine softcover journals in it, and started drafting NCL and my short fiction by hand. I started bringing the notebook with me to work, drafting in spare moments at lunch or after school. I sat on the couch in the evenings and drafted while my husband worked on his grad classes.

Basically, I got back into the groove with the novel.

At this point, I’m on chapter ten but not quite sure how many words because I’ve drafted the last chapter by hand. Probably getting close to 30k words. Which is admittedly not a lot. I’m thinking this book will be roughly 100k words, but that’s always hard to say until I get closer to the end. I don’t outline, so I’m simply going by the vague impressions I’ve generated for where the story might go and the scenes I have floating around my head.

Right now, my protagonist is stumbling and fumbling along, trying to be proactive but getting swatted down at every turn by the cruel forces at work in the city. It’s weird writing noir because it’s such a dark genre/style that calls for bad luck and evil fate to circumvent the hero’s actions. I want to be careful that my main guy gets some feeling of progress going even as the net squeezes tighter and tighter around him.

To finish the novel in seven months, I must write roughly 10k words per month. Very doable… except I also have the goal to finish another novel (Ysbaddaden) and even more stories besides. So 10k a month for NCL, but that won’t be all I’m writing each month.

As always, I’m hoping to “fail to success,” so no matter where I am by next month, I’ll be further along than I am now.

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

June 7, 2024 / / 1 Comment

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.

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