Scrivner

Hey-o, faithful blog readers.  Obviously, I haven’t written anything for a few days.  You may have surmised correctly.  I did quit.

What are the reasons?  There are too many to name and none of the usual apply.  Here are the usual:

• Boredom
• Frustration, fear
• Lack of time
• Lack of energy
• Nothing to say (writer’s block)
• No way to say it (I call this expressive block.  like when you’re reaching for a word on the tip of your tongue.  A thesaurus, that friendly writer’s dinosaur, is always a good solution for this).

What to do if you’re caught by any of these:

• Take a break…with a deadline.  Eventually you will get back to the writing.  Just tell yourself when.
• Go for a walk.  You’ve listening to my theories on exercise stimulating the creative cortex.  I won’t bore you.
• Write something else.  If you are writing prose, write a poem.  If you are doing journalism work, write a poem.  Write a poem, write a poem.  I think that writing poetry is like going sailing as opposed to taking the speedboat out for a spin.  Just be lazy in the words.
• Lack of time and energy?  Turn off the TV for starters.  Then write a haiku.  Think of it as a crossword puzzle that has meaning.   Of course, use the corners of your day.  I commute on the train.  This helps, even when I can’t write anything down, I can just think about it.

So, if these aren’t options for me, what’s the deal?

Truth is, I don’t know.  I feel like doors are being shut and continue to shut in this area for me, even though I love to write.  I’m not really at the point where I want to write ‘just for fun’ anymore, even though it would be akin to chopping off my left hand to quit writing in entirety.

If I come up with any solutions, you’ll be the first to know.

Thanks for following me this far.  I will see you again in the future.  Adieu.

What I wish upon every person who dreams a big dream is that you have people who prop you up.  I have some people like that in my house, but I also have my friend B. who, if you’ve been tuned in all along, you may have heard me mention from time to time.

My friend B. writes me to say how awesome the writing is.  Keep it up.  Most importantly, keep going.

Have I ever mentioned I’ve never met my friend B.?

Somehow my friend B. is acutely aware of the time span in which I will become frustrated, bored, busy, etc. and think about giving up.

Did I ever mention my friend B. is a brilliant psychologist? 

Probably not because he’s not a psychologist.  But he played one while in graduate school.  He’ll foo-foo that and say he only ran rats in mazes but he always tries hide his brilliancy under a bushel.

You know what song I’m humming now?

Anyway.

I received my first copy of Writer’s Digest today.  I’ve been waiting for about 2 months.  Maybe 3.  Math is not my strong point.

It’s got a lot of commercials, so far, but also a good article about writing small in the time you have.  I have to say that I resemble that remark.  Have a ten minute sonnet to fade out:

Ten minute sonnet – June 14.06

There was no release to the pressure of

having to come up with a thigh to rhyme

and fit in the space, and meet the half

of the lip, the thrust of misspent sky time

writing your name in walking rhythm, da

Dum, da Dum.  Some type of chest drum keeps this

song a chorus of birds sitting on the

emergency party line.  Come in, Miss

April, mind your mark.  Smile for the people,

bend over for the crowd, be a sweetie,

wipe the seatie.  4 minutes, no more pull,

no more room.  Shaddup and get the pointy.

Even you can formulate.  Its chaos

contained, Mr. November.  All bathos.

What the heck was I trying to say?  Whoo.

So I’m up about 135 words over where I’d ideally like to be, good news.  Also, settling into the rhythm of writing a little something every day, also good news.  What is it, three weeks to build a habit?  Almost there.

There has been an abnormal amount of hits on some old “I didn’t get into the televised 3-Day novel contest” blogs of mine lately.  I should go check out the site, see if they are going to run the show they taped and didn’t air.  Interesting reality shows are when you possibly could know or have met the actual people.  Real people.  Canadians, in other words.

Other reality shows are always interesting, too.  I must admit I’m a bit of an addict, especially to ones where some type of challenge is involved like “Survivor” or “The Biggest Loser” (which is me for watching too much tv and not writing more).

Okay, I wrote.  Tonight, at least.  I’m good.

Not a loser.

Not really.

Not much?

It was bound to happen.  I think I must have really horrible coping mechanisms or something.  I was totally derailed for three days because someone made a joke at my expense in front of a ton of people.  I’m not even sure I understood what the joke was inferring, I’m not sure the joker did.

I’m hoping its just something that came out sounding totally wrong and call it an accident.

What I’ve been brooding about, of course, is how about if it wasn’t an accident?  A slip of the tongue?  As we all know, jokes often stem from a grain of the real truth in a person’s feelings.

I’m hoping that the other 57 people in the room thought that what was said was an accident.  I’m not one for caring much about what other people think…but I’m wondering now what they are thinking.  In regards to the ‘slip of the tongue’, shall we call it?

Well, whatever. 

I’m sure people are not thinking anything and have moved on to more pressing topics, such as the Bachelor Tv show scandal where one of the contestants sleeps with a producer instead of sleeping with the Bachelor on camera so we can all watch.

There is no good tv on.  I am watching Jeopardy nightly.  I got 2 of the last 3 final jeopardys.  One answer was Stephen King, the other one was adjective.  I’m meant to watch Jeopardy.

Decided to take a sanity day yesterday, Friday.  I look forward to Fridays, being the last day of the work week and all, especially when back at work after a time off.  Seems longer.  Or, having had a chance to catch up on sleep, just seems more ‘there’.  I’m more awake?  Otherwise perhaps I’m numbed.

Thought I would write this morning, as I love Saturday morning writings, only thing better being Sunday morning writings but my routine is a bit screwed up.  The gym, yes that gym I talked about earlier this week, is closed.  Therefore, I do not go to the gym on Saturday morning and then come back endorphins chugging away at pounding out some good verbiage.

I guess she didn’t pay the rent for 2 months.  Good way to get closed. 

In the meantime, trying to adjust my planner mentality.  Such a creature of habit am I.  Did housework for 4 hours straight.  What’s the deal with that?!  Who is dirtying my house while I’m not paying attention.

So, just before going to watch “Four Christmases” the movie (see if they are stealing my good material from me), thought I’d get rid of another few hundred words.  I’m liking the ways things are going so far.  Another 200 tomorrow and I’m sitting pretty at over 2000 words.

Funny how when in essay form, 2000 words would be painful.  Story form, utterly joyful.

Written just before bed – again.  I’m not sure if this is completely the best time of day to write, although it does lend itself to an easier moral barrier, defenses being down and whatnot.  So is the motto ‘write at night, edit in the morning?’

Not yet.

It amazes me to think that I am not only hitting my target for the last 7 days, I am exceeding it.  Two minutes before sitting down I have absolutely nothing to say and no idea of where to go and ‘poof’ – there are words, stories, characters, dialogue appearing out of nowhere.

The black hole of Bethilda?  Where the heck did that gem emerge from?

Subconscious.  I love it, love it, love it.

1 giant headache.

There is a Chinook coming.  Or El Nino.  Or something.

Luckily for me, it was another 200 some-odd words that arrived on the doorstep.  Again, no idea of where to pick up after yesterday.  thought of some dialogue regarding the uncles and of trying it out.  No time like the present when you don’t have anything to say.

Maybe that’s a good thought for today – no words left behind.  Trust that the more you empty the bucket, the more often it will be filled.

Thank goodness for 200 words tonight.  Now bedtime.

Hey-o!  1,097 words, even with an editing day in there.  Yeah for me!

Things I’ve learned today:

There is a place on my street when I’m out strolling about that ideas come to me.  The exact same spot on the sidewalk was also birth to a recent sonnet “Crabapple” seen here:

Crabapple – Oct.18.09

Began when the frost came as bristle brush

and ended with Chinooks from the south- west.

Little apples turned deep red.  Forget blush,

recall death.  Hanging by habit but dressed

for October’s end, they are masks of their

former selves: lush, supple.  Begging began

pick me first though pious leaves wilt in prayer

for the saving of the dear fruit’s pagan

souls.  One by one, they silently succumb

to winds of change, of seasonal same.  Drop

and plop to the frozen walk, they become

crow feed, squirrel juice, autumn road-kill.  Full stop

Em, on our walk, observes apple’s belly.

“Gross,” she says, “It’s icky sidewalk jelly.”

Why am I out walking in the dark at 7 p.m. (cry, it’s always dark now) in minus 22 degree Celsius weather?

Well, another something that is not new but may be new to you: exercise stimulates my creative cortex muscle.  So I was coming back from the gym and kapow, there were tonight’s 300+ words.  Recasting will have to fit them back into the story somehow…. But the beauty of dialogue, especially children’s dialogue, they seem to interrupt at any old time.  Especially when most inconvenient.

So, I recommend you read Chapter 1 tonight – the ‘chinky’ section.  I hope you laugh.  It got me smiling at what kids will say (or a writer’s sub-conscious).

On a politically correct note: I adore Asian people and culture and would never call them chinky.  Never.  What the characters say is their own business.  Sue them.

First day back at the job that earns the paycheck.  Single thought today: having this book to look forward to helps me get through rotten times at work.  Yeah book!

Didn’t do too many edits today.  Thinking too hard on a moving train causes motion sickness.  I’ve added a favourite quote of mine up front (I’m a quotes junkie.   If you’ve been reading other things here, I’m sure you’ve noticed.)  I like to think of edits to be more of revisioning or perhaps recasting.  Throwing away the bad parts, fleshing out the good and perhaps expanding on them.  I have a not-so-typical writer’s syndrome of ‘under-writing’ what I mean to say, assuming everyone knows what I’m thinking.  Most writers I’ve met, or have read their writing tips, often say to cut 10%.  Not I.  Adding 10% is probably a better bet.  Clearer, anyway.

It was hard to get even this much (little) done today on the story.  Does it only get worse?

Tricky day today.  Will be trickier tomorrow when the real test starts, i.e. I return to work.

I have a few ideas to combat this:

1. I will take my journal with me on the train.  The best thoughts are always those that you have no paper available to write them down.

2. I will put writing first.  Above laundry and recycling, making meals and Rock Band.  This is important.  I  am important!

Em is already planning my time off of work when the book sells.  She is planning for me to stay home all day and have a snack ready for her after school.  I should have named her June.