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Showing posts with label the writing life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the writing life. Show all posts

Monday, August 15, 2016

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

Stipula fountain pen" by Power_of_Words_by_Antonio_Litterio.jpg: Antonio Litterioderivative work: InverseHypercube - Power_of_Words_by_Antonio_Litterio.jpg. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Commons.

Once I realized that my week was coming up, I started to ponder what I wanted to talk about in my writing life. And the thought that occurred had two components. One: the labels we put on ourselves. And two: the things that we have told ourselves we must do in this writing thing.

In the writing realm on the Internet, certain "truths" float around. We're all introverts. We all mainline our coffee. We're either a "panster" or a "plotter". We should write every day. We should always be working on our novels (or memoirs, or whatever it is we are writing). We should write our first draft quickly, then go back and edit it. And those are just the ones that come off the top of my head.

Of course, reality is murkier. So, when life throws us a curveball (death in the family, car accident, loss of a job, or any of the other myriad of things that go with having a life), we feel guilty for not writing through it.

I think it's time to stop and assess. What are some ideas about writing that you've been holding on to that no longer serve you?

When I started on this writing journey, I needed to make it a habit, so I made it my goal to write every day. Every. Day. Christmas. My birthday. When I had a head cold. (Those three days where I was throwing up every couple hours I took off.) When I went on vacation. (Although, that didn't work out so well.)

But since then, I've had to reevaluate this. Things happened. Time evaporated. I had a choice between sleeping and writing, and sleeping won. Stressors made it so I couldn't concentrate. So, writing slowed. But wonder of all wonders, it didn't stop. (I guess it became ingrained enough that I couldn't stop it permanently.)

We can get through it. But first, we have to take out all the things that make us feel lesser than. Like we're not writers.

What "shoulds" are you putting on your writing? 

Thursday, May 19, 2016

The True Power of Words






Have you ever written a story that creeped you out?  Have you ever written a story that shocked you so much you knew your readers would “never see it coming” (whatever “it” might be) simply because you didn’t?  Have you ever written a story that really made you laugh or cry?  Have you ever had a story that haunted your dreams?

The power contained within the written word can often be stunning even to us, the ones who used them to create a story.  I love it when I get to a part where I have to sit back for a moment and say, “Man.  I never expected that.”  If I didn’t expect it, then the readers likely won’t, and that’s always great.

I love it when a story consumes me so it’s all I think about.  When I was in school, my mama said she could always tell when I was writing.  Even if she didn’t see me doing it, she knew.  How?  I talked in my sleep.  No kidding.  When I was in high school, I had two major passions…Drama (the kind where you perform on stage, not the “She was flirting with MY boyfriend!” type) and writing.  One day the idea occurred to me that I wanted to write a play.  I had written a couple of short scripts for my drama class a few times, but not a full play.  Well, during the time I was working on this, my talking in my sleep reached an
all-time high.  One night my mama and step-daddy were in bed half-asleep when my step-daddy started hearing a sound.  After a few minutes, he realized I was talking.  After a few more minutes, he asked Mama, “Who is she talking to?”  Mama said, “Don’t worry about it.  She’s writing again.”  I actually knew why I was talking that particular time when I learned I had been talking in my sleep.  That particular night I dreamed about the play.  Not writing it, but the play itself.  The storyline.  It was a surreal and vivid dream, and in all honesty, I don’t think the storyline varied much from what I had dreamed.  I finished the play a few days later.

Another time, I was working on a story that was inspired by an old house that was rumored to be haunted.  My sister and I were spending the weekend with a friend of ours, and a friend of hers had a birthday party, so we all went to spend the night at this other girl’s house.  The girl started telling us about this old house that was in the woods at the edge of their property.  Then she started telling us about some of the strange things that had happened to her and her brother when they had gone there, and she said that her brother had made her promise to stay away from that house unless he was with her.  I can’t remember the things she said happened, but something about the house intrigued me.  Yep.  I’m one of those.  Tell me a place is haunted, and I want to go see it.

Anyway, the next morning when the others were still asleep, I went to the woods to see if I could find the house.  Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending on how you look at it, since I didn’t tell anyone where I was going…), I didn’t get to go in the house, because that area was a bit of a low-lying area and parts of it were marshy.  While the idea of the house didn’t scare me, the idea of the very living animals that were in the woods DID scare me.  I remember the thoughts of alligators creeping into my head because of the area being so marshy.  And then of course, there were the animal bones I came across.  I finally made the decision to return to the house, but I took something with me.  The idea for a story.  I started writing this story and it was getting to be what I loved.  Powerful, consuming.  My characters were coming to life.  I can’t remember how long I worked on it, but I had over one hundred hand-written pages.

Then came the nightmare.  I won’t bore you with the entire dream because the first part doesn’t really apply here.  I can say this.  The dream FELT REAL.  I was in Florida, and I was walking down a sidewalk with some guy that I think was a guide of some sort.  To our left was a wooden fence, then a stretch of beach, and then the ocean.  The guide and I were talking, and then I started to say, “Florida is beautiful.”  But when I turned to the guide, I saw an alarmed look cross his face as he stared down the sidewalk in front of us.  I looked and saw a crowd of people, and they appeared to be fighting.  The guide ran toward the crowd, and I followed.  I could feel the stitch forming in my side, and I could feel the fear that was creeping in on me.  When we reached the crowd, there was this guy in the middle with shoulder-length blonde hair, and he was struggling with someone.  The guy had a knife in his hand.  I can still see.  A large pocket-style knife.  The handle had this clear yellow plastic on each side.  Sort of like those screwdriver handles that are yellow, but that you can see through, like a clear but colored plastic.  Somehow I got shoved into the center of the crowd, and suddenly the blonde guy broke free of the people who were trying to restrain him and he was standing right in front of me.  He started cutting me with the knife, just below my breasts, across my ribcage.  I FELT every slice of that blade.  FELT it.


Then the dream shattered, literally.  It fragmented into a million pieces and fell away like broken glass.  For several minutes, I was suspended in darkness.  Then I could sense that the light in our bedroom was on, and I could sense that my sister was there.  I could hear everything, but I was still in sleep paralysis.  I couldn’t move.  I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  No, literally.  It felt like my lungs weren’t going to take in a breath.  Finally, the paralysis broke, and I drew in this great ragged breath.  I still couldn’t move or open my eyes, but I heard my sister react to my breath.  She put her hand on me and said “Angela.”  Then I was able to move.  I sucked in another breath and sat straight up.  Then I yanked my shirt up with one hand, and started running my hand over my skin across my ribcage where the man had cut me.  Then I burst into tears.  I couldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t talk.  My sister took me to Mama’s room where she and my step-daddy were sitting on their bed.  Mama took one look at me and wanted to know what was wrong.  I still couldn’t talk.  You know how you get those hard lumps in your throat, and you can barely swallow around it?  You know how you’re very well aware that if you try to talk through it at that particular moment in time, you’re not going to be able to do anything but sob uncontrollably and not get a single coherent word out?  Yeah, that’s what I was experiencing.

Anyway, I was finally able to tell them about the dream, and it made it a little better.  But that dream scared me.  Badly.  So badly that I never wrote another word in the one-hundred plus page story I had been working on about the haunted house in the woods.  Why?  Because the man that cut me in my dream was a main character in the story.  A guy named Matthew that was demonic or possessed, I’m not sure which, because I hadn’t gotten that far.  In what I had of the story, he had lured his sister to that house and sacrificed her with a very interesting dagger.  What was so interesting about the dagger?  I didn’t know yet, aside from the way it looked.  So yeah, I stopped writing that story…cold.  I kept it because I thought that maybe I’d go back to it one day.  I didn’t.  Several years later I burned it.

That was the first time I ever really experienced the true power of my own words.
 
So, have you ever written something that terrified you?  Made you deliriously happy?  Creeped you out a little?  Grossed you out?  Made you cry an ocean?  Tell us about it!

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Some Non-Writers Just Don't Understand



Some Non-Writers Just Don’t Understand

*Please note:  This doesn’t apply to all non-writers.  Just a select few, and you likely know who the ones in your life are.

If you’re a writer (and most likely, you are.  Why else would you be reading this blog?), chances are you’ve come across some interesting questions, misconceptions, or behavior from some non-writers.  There are a lot of things some non-writers just don’t get about us.  We have a tendency to clear our search histories because if a non-writer ever saw the things we researched, they might be inclined to call the local police, or even the FBI.  They certainly might be a lot less comfortable around those of us who have to research murder weapons, ways to dispose of bodies, and rates of decomposition.  And heaven forbid if you ever start sharing some of the interesting tidbits of information you dig up during the course of your research.  But that’s not the only thing non-writers don’t get.

Many don’t even understand how the process works.  Once I was telling someone about a story I was working on, and the person asked me how the story ended.  Well, I was forced to admit that I didn’t know yet.  They asked me how I couldn’t know, wasn’t I the one writing the story?  Well, I’m a pantser, not a plotter, so no, I really had no idea how things were going to turn out.  We can discuss pantsing vs. plotting at another time, but I will say that I’ve never been a plotter.  When I was in creative writing classes in school, I despised the outline with a purple passion, as we used to say.  My stories NEVER stuck to the outline, and the few times I tried to force it to stick to the outline, the story came out lifeless and forced, not very good at all.  While I didn’t realize that what I was doing had a name, I did know that I wrote better when I just sat down and started writing.  Most of the time, my characters would come to life and started doing whatever they wanted, and let me tell you, it was wonderful to watch.  Disconcerting sometimes, because sometimes they would do things I didn’t want them to do, or they would do things that shocked me, but fun nonetheless.  But most non-writers don’t understand that.  The scope of their experience with writing is whatever they learned in creative writing or composition classes in school, and most of those classes crammed the outline down your throat.  They think that’s the process for every writer.  That you sit down, plot out your story and then write it.  Some non-writers just don’t understand that sometimes you don’t know everything about your story while you’re writing it.

Along those same lines is the question of “How long is your story going to be?” or “How many chapters is it going to have?” or “How many pages will it be?”  Uh…I don’t know.  The first time I was ever asked that question, I sort of stared at the person who asked.  I honestly didn’t know how to answer her.  Of course, as a writer, I always knew the story was done when the story was done.  It came to its conclusion on its own, and that was always what determined the length of the story.  I once wrote a story for the school writing fair that was somewhere between sixteen and twenty hand-written pages.  (I still have part of the copy floating around here somewhere, but I believe the last couple of pages are missing.  And yes, there are plot holes in the story that I cringed over when reading it a few years ago, before the ending went missing.  But it was pretty good, and I was happy it placed in the writing fair.)  It was one of those stories that originated from a prompt the teacher gave us, and the other kids in my Freshman Honors English class were stunned that my story was so long.  They wondered why I didn’t MAKE it shorter.  It didn’t seem long to me.  The story ended when it reached its natural conclusion.  In all honesty, I could have expanded it, but it probably was long for a school assignment.  The point is, again, the story ended when it ended.  I didn’t set out to write a long story, but that’s what happened.  Some non-writers just don’t understand that a story ends when it ends, and that you don’t always have control over the length (at least, not before revisions and edits).

And what about the misconception that makes well-meaning people tell you how much it’s going to cost you to publish your story?  Yes, now we have a lot of indie writers who self-publish, but they’re not talking about that.  They’re talking about taking your story to a vanity or subsidy press.  These people want to tell you that you’ll have to have a lot of money to get your book published.  I try to very politely tell them that you don’t HAVE to publish that way, that you can try to get an agent and publish your book through one of the “big houses”.  When I tell them that, they want to tell me I HAVE to have my manuscript in printed book format before I can even get an agent or publisher to look at it.  I try to again politely point out that’s not true, but they’ll have none of that because they know someone (relative, friend, cousin of a friend, boyfriend’s sister’s first cousin’s daughter) who couldn’t get an agent or publisher to look at their manuscript and they were told (by whom?  I’d love to know) they would have to have the book published before those people would even look at it.  At this point, I have two options.  A) Say “Okay” or “I didn’t know that” and move on while feeling sorry for the person who actually fell for that scam, or B) get into an argument that would only lead to hurt feelings and in which I would likely be called names.  I’m more likely to choose A., unless the person trying to argue with me is someone I really can’t stand.  Some non-writers just don’t understand that you don’t HAVE to publish your book to get published.

Another favorite misconception of some non-writers that I love is that since a person writes, the writer must always have time to spare, since they, you know, don’t have a “real job”.  They don’t understand that many writers do have a set schedule for when they write.  It might be from 7:00 am to 9:00 am.  Or it might be from 1:00 pm to 4:00 pm.  It doesn’t matter what the time is, a lot of writers do have a writing schedule.  But the non-writers think they can drop in or call anytime, even if they KNOW the writer’s schedule, and they expect the writer to drop everything and cater to them.  If the writer tries to tell the non-writer that they’re trying to work and can they call them back or visit later, the non-writer either want to know A) when they got a new job, or B) what time they have to be at work, or C) what the writer’s plans are, and maybe they could do it together.  Now, I’m all for spending time with family and friends, absolutely love it.  However, this always strikes me as a bit rude, not to mention depressing.  If the person knows they’re invading the writer’s writing period, this shows a lack of respect for the writer and their chosen field of work, which is what I find rude.  I also said depressing, because it seems like the person doesn’t support what you’re trying to do in life, that they don’t take your dream seriously, or they don’t think you’re going to be successful anyway, so what’s the big deal?  Or all three.  Yeah, that’s just depressing.  Some non-writers just don’t understand that your time is just a valuable as anyone else’s.

Some non-writers don’t understand why you’re so excited that your character just showed you how they really feel about the boy who sits across from them in psych class (especially true if you’re a pantser). Or why you’re a little creeped out by your character because they’ve decided they’re done with their girlfriend and are now going to kill her because they decided that even though they don’t want her, they don’t want anyone else to have her, either.

Some non-writers don’t understand how you can cry because a character YOU CREATED had to die, or isn’t going to wind up with the person you thought they would wind up with.  They’re going to tell you if you feel so upset about it, why don’t you just NOT kill them off, or why don’t you just put the couple together.  They don’t understand you when you tell them it doesn’t always work that way, that the story is the boss and that you’re just the medium through which the story chooses to tell itself.  Again, this is primarily true if you’re a pantser.

Granted, this isn’t true of all non-writers, and bless those this doesn’t apply to.  We need their support!

But sometimes, some non-writers just don’t understand.

What are some things you’ve been told or asked by non-writers?  Or some things you wish non-writers wouldn’t do?

Monday, April 27, 2015

Dear Withdrawn Writer

NOTE: Since I am participating in the A to Z Challenge, I am only going to post today and Friday. I’m sorry about this, but I am pooped. I promise more posts the next time it’s my time to host. Xoxo Chrys Fey


Dear Withdrawn Writer,

Writers often put a lot on the back burner to write and to do all the things that writing and publishing entails. Sometimes, without meaning to, we even put family and friends behind our writing. Not long ago I realized that I was doing this and wanted to remedy that.
If you worry that you’re doing the same thing, you can try this:

1. The first thing you can do is send out a mass email to your family members and close friends, or post a status on Facebook, to explain your absence and why you don’t call as much as you should. Let them know about your responsibilities and that you’re not purposefully withdrawing from anyone. I did this a few months ago.
Here’s part of my message:
“This is a blanket message to all of my family and friends who may feel as though I've become distant. And I'm posting it with love. Every day I am writing, editing, blogging, and marketing. You may not know how difficult all of that is, but trust me when I say it's not easy and it's never-ending . . .Because of that I don't make phone calls, send messages or texts as much as I should . . . Anyway, I just want everyone to know that I'm still here...writing, of course, but here all the same and that I appreciate all of you.”
2. If you’re always writing or doing something related to marketing, it’s a good idea to designate a certain time every day to spend with your loved ones at home. This could be breakfast time or dinner time when you sit with your family and talk, or bedtime when you read to your kids or get a little one-on-one time with your significant other.

Image from Wikipedia
At least it's easier to talk on the phone nowadays.

3. Call at least one person a week for a little chat to catch up. Not only will you benefit from having a nice conversation, but your loved ones will love that you’re calling them to hear about their troubles and/or happiness.

4. Set up one day a week to bond with your family such as family game night, movie night, or a pizza party. Your kids and significant other will enjoy this, and having a little fun will erase any of the stress you have and even help you with writer’s block.

5. Plan a fun outing at least once a month. (You can do it every other week.) This doesn’t have to be expensive either. This can be a trip to the library or mall, garage sale hunting, a beach day, a lunch out with your girl friends, or a night at the fair. Every writer needs to get out of the house and have some fun!

By doing 2-3 of these things, you’ll strengthen your relationships, create memories, and de-stress.


QUESTION: Have you withdrawn from your family and friends to write?


Have a writing-related question? Leave a comment and I may turn it into a post right here!


Author of Hurricane Crimes, 30 Seconds, Ghost of Death, and Witch of Death. Blogger. Reader. Auntie. Vegetarian. Cat Lover.

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