NaNoWriMo: Don't Stop!

If any of you are doing NaNoWriMo, you might be able to relate a certain struggle of mine. I'm not as far along as I'd like to be. I know, I know, I'm probably the ONLY writer on the planet who has EVER gotten behind on her word count.

The thing is, this beast called NaNoWriMo? This monster of a project?

IT'S REALLY HARD.

Surprise, surprise.

If you're one of those types who's all, "yeah-I'm-already-at-60k," I'm going to make a positive life choice and say GOOD JOB. You rock.  Now go away. (Kidding...)

For those of us who aren't quite at that level of word-production, it can get rather...discouraging.

NaNoWriMo Inspiration!

NaNoWriMo is upon us! Confession: this is my first time. Every year it has come and gone while I was distracted by other projects. But not anymore! I'm making it happen! And so, in lieu of a wordy blog post, I offer up a collection of inspirational 'get started' snippets that will hopefully help fuel all my other Wrimos out in the trenches with me. Click each photo for the original link. If you really want to, you can feel free to check out my writing Pinterest board for more. Now get writing!

Stay Calm and Stop Comparing

If you’re reading this blog, chances are you’re either related to me (hi, mom!) or you’re a writer. Or maybe you just really want to be a writer. If you’re the latter, first read this. Now, if that sounds good, I’ve got a warning for you: Writing can be stressful. So can ANY creative career, or even hobby. Us weirdo artistic types (aka “all humans”) have a tendency to form some toxic habits when we’re growing in our art. Habits that will only bring us down in the long run, my friend. I’m here today to rant--er, talk with you about one particularly cantankerous habit: The Comparison.

Let me open with a simple suggestion: 

The Dreaded Opening Scene: How to Make it Awesome In One Simple Step

We’ve all done it. You know you have. Trying to figure out if you’ll buy a book, you open it and glance at the opening paragraph. For me, I try and give it at least a page. Some people only give it a sentence.

And then you decide:

Yes, I love it, I’m gonna read (re: buy) this.

Nah, lame, moving on.

Writers are readers, too, so we’re hyper-aware of this when we’re writing the opening scenes of our stories. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing a book, a film, a play, or a blog post, the same laws apply, and the same desperation can sneak through. We need an opening that will entice a reader to continue, after all, and that decision is often flippant, emotional, ephemeral, and impossible to perfectly predict. We therefore end up all the more eager--grab that reader by the earlobes and don’t you dare let go! Otherwise you’ll fail! And all your work will be for nothing! And they’ll take away your writer’s club card!

Well, no, definitely not that last part. And not really the other parts either. But opening scenes are, unfortunately, often paramount to the success of your story. 

How To Handle Criticism (As A Writer)

Dealing with criticism can be a seriously tricky business as a writer. After all, the words we put on paper are us. They're our thoughts, our hearts, our words, our souls. Criticism of your words can feel like criticism of your very person.

This, in fact, is one of the reasons many writers get stuck. We don’t want to take risks, or--if we do--we don’t want to show anyone those risks. When we do share our work, if it’s not met with unabashed aplomb, we often react with either severe pain (retreating and licking our wounds, kicking ourselves and vowing never to write again) or anger (a harrumph and a growl, a vow that your reader is uncultured swine and just doesn’t understand your genius).

Both reactions, it might be noted, are rooted in fear. Fear that we’re not good enough. Fear that we don’t measure up.

The 'Show, Don't Tell' Monster

You’ve heard it before, a thousand times, from the instant you decided to write. Haven’t you? Show, don’t tell! The snarky little catchphrase that seems to haunt your every edit. You could have sworn you were showing in that last draft, but upon rereading...nope, you were telling. And telling. And telling. And now you feel like you’re the worst writer in the world and so why should you even bother??!

Anyone else kind of want to pull their hair out when things get like this?

I know I do. Which, I realize, does not make me the most expert of writers to preach upon such a subject. But I’ve had this three-word stalker crouching behind me for a significant chunk of years now, so I've collected a few thoughts about it. Some ways to avoid it’s breathy snarl. Because, honestly, when I first started hearing it, I had no flipping clue what these people were talking about.

Here’s some ideas on how to figure out what people mean when they throw this at you like a pitchfork in the middle of your writing group.

Are You Fed Up Yet?

Reading Poetry
by Thomas John Walters

I am fed up,

meat on bones,

sucked down,

devoured.

My sails fill up,

winds of dawning lights rustle through pages,

through windows to YES worlds,

rustle hope, rustle yes, rustle the poetic life in me; 

and every greatness is in reach of my heart. 

This poem is for you, writers. That opening line especially.

What feeds you? 

Besides food, I mean. What feeds your soul? What enriches your sense of self? What stimulates your creativity? 

There is something out there that will slice open your sense of wonder like a can-opener slices open those delicious cans of syrupy pineapples.

Mmmmm. Pineapples.

We writers like to be serious. We like to be aloof and wise and research-ey and tough. We like to sit in our stuffy studies with our whiskey, hem and haw about politics, and pretend we know waaaaay more than we do. We like to get fed up in the negative sense. We're fed up with society! With the government! With mainstream entertainment! And most of all we're fed up with those people! You know the ones.

But where's the wonder in that? Where's the joy? Where's the syrupy pineapple goodness?

Get yourself fed up in the wonderful sense. Let's call it the pineapple sense. That should keep you from getting too serious. 

Find out what feeds your soul and DO NOT mock yourself for loving it! Not allowed. 

Play. Go to the beach. Stare at the sea. Climb a tree. Read poetry. Look at art. Make macaroni and inwardly comment how smooth and delicious you find the cheese. Go to your local sock store. Sock art can be way inspiring.

This doesn't have to be refined, people. It only has to awaken that childlike piece of you that enjoys doing handstands and popping bubbles and eating pineapples (see what I did there?). This piece of you has odd questions, strange ideas, and has not yet learned to be self-conscious. It creates constantly, innately, delightedly. Doesn't that sound nice?

Keep with your hard-working writerly self, of course, but get that wonder back. Your writing will be best if you combine the two. 

Find your can opener. Get fed up. Get writing. 

Thanks to Thomas John Walters for writing/sharing the gem of a poem up top!  

10 Ways to Keep Your Focus While You Edit

Editing is one of those things that will either feel like swimming with dolphins through a rainbow sea or trudging with Artax through the Swamp of Sadness. It can be horribly demoralizing watching your baby sink to the depths of what looks like depravity. You're editing and suddenly you think, "This is awful. Why am I bothering?" or "What was I thinking?" or "This is driving me crazy, and I wrote it! What will a reader think?"

With every negative thought, your project looks like it's sinking deeper and deeper into that pile of mud. But you've got to remember (spoiler alert): At the end of the movie, Atreyu is riding happily across a meadow on the back of his beloved Artax. You know why? Because he didn't give up. To that end, I've compiled a happy little list of ways to keep you from giving up when it feels like you just can't go any further with this $%*#@ editing process.

Editing The Bob Ross Way

Happy Trees. 

When you imagine a painter at work, does he start at one corner of the canvas and do every single detail for every single square inch, moving across the field in this manner as though putting together a puzzle? No? Then why do so many writers approach editing this way? 

Painting happens in layers. A painter will lay the bare bones of an image first--maybe some base lines with only a few colors. Then she'll add another layer that includes depth and a few more images. Then another layer for texture and even more images. You get the idea. If not, go watch this time-lapse Bob Ross video. Bob Ross is the bomb.