I’ve been writing stories lately for a work-for-hire project that requires the writer to outline a number of very important things about the tale…before it’s been written. The editors want a synopsis that describes the character and the plot with as many juicy pertinent details as possible. That way of crafting a story goes against my nature. It seems, my writing process is more like Neil Gaiman’s. (I seriously wonder why I’m not getting the same results. Hmmm….) In his 2009 Newbery acceptance speech for The Graveyard Book, Gaiman said he writes stories because there “is a maggot in [his] head, a small squirming idea that [he needs] to pin to the paper and inspect, in order to find out what [he thinks] about it.” That’s me. I haven’t a clue beyond the very basic brain-worms of a character who interests me and a possible problem and an intriguing setting before I sit down to write. I discover the story as I write, with all the deadends, U-turns, and hidden byways that entails. Characters morph on the page telling me their hidden secrets and motivations bit by bit. They do unexpected things for unanticipated reasons. Discovering what I think about something, what I have to say about something is really the “why” behind my desire to write. And I can’t make more than a superficial stab at how a story might unfold in a synopsis. I’m grateful for editors who are willing to see the story morph, offer guidance along the way, and still say “yes” in the end. And I’m learning the value of knowing a few more things about where the story might go before I begin so that I don’t have to face a blank screen. But—as one of the brilliant students I get to coach is currently sharing in a story of her own—”the journey is part of the gift.” It’s a gift to have time to write. It’s a gift to enter someone’s story and try to make sense of it and learn from it. The journey into the story and the discoveries I make along the way teach me every day about what I value enough about the human experience to try to transmit it in story form to the next generations. The learning that I do when I write is what motivates me to write. If there’s nothing to discover in a story, for me…it’s not worth writing.
I took this photo outside the window of my tiny home (AKA RV) early this morning. I live in a small tree-encircled park within an Ashland neighborhood, just a few blocks from Main Street and the quaint downtown area. Deer outside my window are a common sight. I find it both beautiful and tragic. Beautiful because–well, just look at them! It amazes me that nature still dares to thrive where roads and sidewalks crisscross every few yards. I feel closer to Earth for their presence. Tragic because over time these deer will probably end up limping through their final days, one, two, or three more casualties of the unending “game” of car versus deer played out in our roadways. Over time, the coats of these gorgeous fawns will become mangey and scuffed. They will lose their sheen as they have already begun to lose their wariness around humans. In fact, someone was outside, working just a few feet from where they stand in this picture. The loss of wildness disturbs me. The fact that these “urban” deer will not bolt free through the forests and drink from clear streams makes my heart ache for them. Sure, there are dangers in the wild as well, as evidenced by the mountain lions that sometimes venture into Lithia Park to freak out tourists and locals alike. But the long fleet legs of deer weren’t made for meandering through backyards (although they work quite well for leaping over the fences people put up to try to keep them out). They were made to wander in places without borders—fences, walls, buildings, Interstate highways. Today, I will think about what constrains me, what confines me, what keeps my own wildness from breaking free. Especially in my writing. Because we must write as if we are wild, as if we are free. Nothing else will gives us words to express the beauty and tragedy that life on this incredible planet offers each day.
This morning, I posted a review on Goodreads about Laini Taylor’s latest book, Strange the Dreamer. I love the book (read it!), but the review led to a really funny moment, thanks to my ex-boss and primo editor-in-chief of Highlights, Christine French Cully.
“Kim,” she wrote, “In your most recent post, I think you meant to say he spent his days in the ‘bowels of a library,’ not ‘bowels of a librarian.’ Ewwww.”
Here’s the original sentence from the review: This book features a classic underdog hero who spends his days in the bowels of a librarian and scribbling notes into a book to try to understand a mysterious lost realm. What’s not to love?
I’m sure you can see the problem. I corrected the sentence (thank goodness for “edit” features), and added a “Thank you” to Chris at the bottom so that other readers could have fun with my abominable abdominal slip. Suffice it to say that this is proof of what I always tell my writing students: every word matters…a lot!
By now most people have heard that there’s a rare event happening across a swath of North America on August 21. It’s a big big deal and my friend writer/illustrator Nancy Coffelt has created a fantastic kids’ guide to the big event called The Big Eclipse. From Amazon, here’s the scoop: “Readers will learn what causes eclipses, about strange eclipse effects, eclipse myths and even learn what hippos do when day turns to night. The book tells why it’s important to protect your eyes when viewing the sun, especially during an eclipse – and how to do so safely. Each book comes with a safe solar eclipse viewer.” Holy cannolis! It’s worth the price just for the solar safe viewer. And when you add Nancy’s vivid art and fun characters, it’s a must-have for anyone with kids who might be prepping for the big day…or just wanting to know more about what’s about to happen.
I love seeing pics of the surroundings in which the writers whose work I love create their works. It’s energizing for some reason. So I thought, hmmm…why not take a snapshot of my own writing space? I did, and the pic you see is the result. When I step back and look at it, my space looks cozy but rather dark and it is dominated by that one-eyed monster perched atop my desk. If you’ve ever fought the tyranny of the blank white page you can imagine what it feels like to stare into a blank white page on this screen. It’s great for doing layouts and keeping multiple apps open and running. But writing in front of this thing is really different from writing in a composition book or on a typewriter or on my iPad or my smaller laptop. It’s more fatiguing. So…the pic is useful. It shows me some things I might want to change about my writing space. What about your writing space? Have you taken a picture so you can pull back to see how it works for–or against–your writing? Might be worth a try!
Do you ever feel like your mind has become a wasteland filled with countless identical grains of sand? These days, mine often does. I know why: it’s the morning news. Since last November I have let the crazoids featured in the day’s news dominate my mornings. I used to read books. Now I read whatever pops up on my iPhone news apps. The only good thing this has done for my writing is to get me to say “yes” to writing lyrics for a protest song a musician friend had a hankering to create. But that’s not much when it comes to output. Garbage in…little to nothing out. I know that great writing, great literature, has come out of every human struggle, but when you’re on the sidelines watching the struggles you don’t have a real experience; you can’t write with the realism, relevance, or authority needed to craft something truly credible and worthwhile. What to do? I’m now on a quest to broaden the input going into my brain, to read more books, and to do more real-world things to re-energize my writing.
Meanwhile, I’m still adjusting—post being downsized out of my editing job—to being able to sit down at my writing desk at almost any time of day and write something. It’s somehow…stymying. Weird, but true. So, here’s my question for the day if anyone out there has answers: What do you do that brings energy to your writing rather than sapping writing energy like an ink-sucking vampire? What practices make it easy to sit down to write rather than difficult? I’d love to know!