A Plea to the Writing Gods

I don’t like asking for help. Who does? It’s admitting not only to yourself, but to others that you have a weakness, something that you can’t do by yourself. Let me try to put that in a more positive light… it’s an area of opportunity (work lingo) or a strength I have yet to develop. However you want to put it, there’s something I need help with, and I'm asking for the Writing Gods to help me out a little. When I wrote out my 2012 resolutions, I realized that I needed to take more steps to advance my third goal, which is completing a manuscript of a book. This has been my third resolution for (including this year) three years in a row. I’ve done very well on all of my resolutions (whether it’s working out more or traveling and such) but I’ve been stuck on this one and it’s time to break myself out of it.

I love writing, I really do, but my focus has always been elusive, despite the fact that I come up with two or three ideas for a book in a day, and that’s on a slow day. So my first step is, as it always seems to be, admitting that I need help in the first place. Let me say it again, “I NEED HELP!!” (sigh of relief) that’s much better.  With that being said, the next step I’m taking to figure out my issue is actually picking up a book on how to write fiction. There is a book written by a well known Sci-Fi writer, Orson Scott Card, on how to create memorable, unique characters and voice in fiction writing and although I’ve never actually read a book written by him before, I’m willing to test it out. A lot of my friends have read some of his work, and if they like him, I should too, right??? Anyway, I've purchased this book (on the Kindle, which was a nice surprise) and I've got to say that this guy really knows what he's talking about. I’m not going to say it’s changed my life (that would be way too dramatic) I’m also not going to say that it’s directly and ineffably changed my writing forever (that, too, would be a tad on the dramatic side) but to have such a well known writer tell me (or the intended audience) that it’s okay to do certain things, to think a certain way and that I don’t have to worry about the first draft or the fifth draft just write, write, write… wow. Who knew all I needed was simple permission, someone to tell me that, “Yeah, your characters might be undefined at first, but you just need to get to know them a little better,” or “Sure the scene might not fit this story, no matter how well written it is, but twist it and fit it into another story, or save it until you need it later. It’s okay to write and not have everything fit, that’s why there’s an editing process…” It’s like I knew these simple things before, but I would never allow myself to continue on unless I felt the story was perfectly in sequence, or that there weren’t any grammatical errors. Writing doesn’t have to be perfect, and to be honest, I’d never catch every single error in it no matter how much time I spent on it. So thank you, Mr. Card (Mr. Scott Card…Mr. Orson??) whatever name you go by, thank you for giving me permission to not have to write perfectly.

Now, let's see what I can come up with.

Adventures in Writing Land Part 3

I recently read a blog post about ‘writer’s fatigue,’ and suddenly my inattentiveness, lack of focus, and my ADHD approach to writing made perfect sense. I’ve got writer’s fatigue. Who’d of thunk? Boom, problem solved. No, not really, but it helped me to reach the difficult decision that will hopefully lead to a more focused, in-tune me. So, what is ‘writer’s fatigue’ you ask? Excellent question.

The blogger described how getting ‘tuned-in’ to the internet and technology turns off your creative process and distracts the brain from doing what you’ve set out to do, at least that was my interpretation of his writings. And it’s true, how easy it is to get on the internet and get completely sidetracked and distracted because of all the social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, e-mail, Blogger…. Even music can be a distraction that doesn’t allow our minds to focus properly. I know that I do my best writing when I’m by myself in silence so that I can completely focus on my work. It’s been a long time since I was able to do that because of the pull and enticement of popping online for ‘a few minutes’ to just ‘check’ Facebook or ‘browse’ through my e-mail… we all know it’s always going to be more than a few minutes, and for most of us, it can be a few hours before finally returning to the task at hand. Ugh, too true.

I never wanted to be one of those people. You know, the avid Facebook checker, the obsessive smart phone user, the one who is seemingly controlled and diverted by technology… unfortunately, for as long as I held out, the allure was too much and I got hooked. I can’t tell you how many times a day I pull out my phone to check IMDB for random factoids that don’t really matter but helps me to argue a point about an actor or actress or movie that I saw five years ago but can’t remember the particular details about. It probably wasn’t the best movie if I can’t even remember who starred in it anyways, but there I am, whipping out my sweet phone to check it out. Oh, and Facebook? Forget it. I’m pulled in every few minutes to see if there are comments or new friends to add or messages in my inbox. It’s ridiculous and I’m embarrassed by the fact that I’ve stooped to this level. Really, should I care about how many friends I do or don’t have? Is it really important to read through all of my friend’s status updates? Is there life altering information every three minutes that forces me to check my newsfeed? No.

For a few days, I decided to try a self-imposed break from being online. Truthfully, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it was going to be. I still had my phone, but I didn’t check my Facebook or e-mails from it, it served its purpose of telling me the time and being my alarm clock, oh and keeping in contact with people  I see on a regular basis. You know, the actual function of a cell phone before it blew up to be this mini Mecca of super technology. I even *gasp* left my computer at home instead of toting it around with me like I usually do. My shoulder miraculously didn’t hurt for those few days… needless to say, it was a huge relief not being so dependent on all of this technology that can bog you down and suffocate you without even realizing it.

After I read through the ‘writer’s fatigue’ blog, it was clear why it’s been so difficult to produce anything worth, well, anything. The endless distractions that not only the internet but technology itself provides is astounding, and I had hardly realized it before. Not to say that I’m going to delete my Facebook account, or throw my computer in the trash, come on my computer is like my baby, but the realization I’ve had will allow me to proceed with caution and awareness. I won’t be blindly jumping online every time I turn my computer on because I know now that that’s not what’s most important. Just because the technology is there, doesn’t mean I have I abuse it, and that’s what I’ve been doing for too long. Appreciate without letting it consume, that’s my new philosophy and I’m sticking to it.

I started writing this post with a pen (eeep!) and actual paper (no way!) and it felt really good. Awe Yeah.

I wear my roommate's socks.

Before you get all grossed out, they are clean whenever I wear them. Just sayin’. But this sock wearing business is just a scratch on the surface of this previously foreign concept I call sharing. Buh, I shudder still at the thought, but I’m getting better about it.

I’ve never had a sister before, and I’m still getting used to the whole thing, but sisters share, or so I’ve found out. I grew up with a little brother, and when I say ‘grow up’ I mean I was nearly nine when the little demon was spawned and ruined my only child mentality…eh hem I mean when the lovely boy was born and brought into this world… anyways we were not sharers. The only thing we shared was our DNA, everything else was, ‘That’s mine! Don’t touch it! Moooooooooom! Give it back!’ Yes, I’m embarrassed to admit that even with the almost nine year age difference, we still fought over everything and anything and wanted to share nothing. Seventeen years later, I’m proud to say that we’ve gotten better, but there is still that hard-to-kill habit of wanting to say no when it comes to sharing. What can I say? We’re both stubborn.

Anyway, when my roommate moved in about three years ago (actually exactly three years ago nearly to the day) I had never before been introduced to the idea of being okay with sharing. What I thought of as ‘sharing’ would have included air, living space, and taking turns driving to the grocery store to equalize gas spent on doing things. That was logical to me, I would most definitely not have considered ‘sharing’ to include food, DVD’s, or socks. Especially not socks. And by no means would I ever have imagined people willingly lending out their things to other people, or allowing them to eat their food without expecting payment or anything else in return. SO WEIRD!!! I wouldn’t say that I was necessarily selfish in my thoughts of not sharing, well maybe a little, but I had never been met with that kind of generosity before, and the first time my roommate said I could have some of her food shocked the hell out of me. I was like, ‘Uh, you sure?’ and she was like, ‘Duh.’ That’s basically how the conversation went. She explained to me that family is all about sharing, and whatever you have, you give to your siblings or your parents. I think I broke out in a sweat when she was explaining it to me, but very gradually I became accustomed to the idea of sharing. And of course the benefits of it too.

I actually think now before letting someone borrow something instead of automatically saying no. Don’t get all crazy now, I said ‘think,’ not ‘I always share my things with everyone because I’m such a good person.’ Definitely didn’t say that, but I will actually think about it, and consider if I know where they live and how long I’ve known them in case they don’t return it…kidding, only kidding. Something I find funny is that I’m the worst at getting people back their stuff. I still have a book from someone (well, more than a few books from more than a few someones) an anime series (sorry! I promise I will return it, and it will be watched! Swear!) and I believe I just returned someone’s binder that I’d had for a couple of months… yep it’s not on my shelf, definitely returned it. (phew). Sharing can be so stressful!

When my roommate got home today, I smiled hugely and said ‘I had some of your chips, oh and a little Sprite too. And, I’m wearing your socks!’ Her automatic reaction was a scowl followed by, ‘Bitch,’ and then immediate smile and shrug. As I said before, we’re sisters, and sisters share. You might be thinking what does she get out of this because it seems a little one-sided on the sharing thing… but I also share my food, and she wore my socks last night, oh and I have a wealth of knowledge that is completely at her disposal, along with the largest RomCom DVD collection in the world. Yeah, I’d say she’s sittin’ pretty.

Sharing is caring. Especially when you share socks.

Adventures in Writing Land Part 2

So, for those of you who follow me (and I must say that I appreciate every one of you) you know that I’m writing a book. Or attempting to write a book. And by ‘attempting to write a book’ I mean unsuccessfully filling blank pages with words that may or may not be completely useless phrases strung together with a flurry of punctuation. Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing right now, and I’m rolling my eyes at myself. ‘Come on,’ I tell myself, ‘it shouldn’t be this hard,’ again an eye roll, ‘hundreds of people get books out every year that don’t have as much time as you or don’t follow any logical sentence structure and they still find time to find someone to publish them…’ This is a constant argument that I have with myself, in my head of course because having it out loud would mean that I’m crazy, and I still can’t find the fire that I need to keep myself rolling. And by ‘rolling’ I mean find a steady pace with which words flow freely from my mind down through my fingers and alight prettily in a special font on my gargantuan computer screen. Try saying that five times fast.

And so, lately, I’ve taken to extremes. Nothing weird or abnormal mind you, although at this point perhaps that’s what I need to try in order to get my brain functioning properly, but what a friend and fellow writer told me to try was this: pick an alcohol. Okay, after looking in my freezer, I had whiskey or tequila. My spicy roommate is more for the Ta-kill-ya, so I pulled out the whiskey and put it on the counter. She then told me to pour three fingers, add a few ice cubes, and a splash of Coke if necessary, and proceed to get drunk. She swears by it. So, that’s what I attempt to do. I sit at my computer, brain fuzzy, and start writing what I think is fantastic stuff. Character development, plotline, amazing descriptions of places, visualizations of a map to use for the realm I’ve created. I think that I should do this more often, that writing is easy when I’ve been drinking because I don’t hold back…. Ya come to find two days later when I finally reread what I wrote that it’s all shit. And not even potentially-workable-shit. I mean I-must-have-put-more-whiskey-in-my-glass-than-I-thought-shit. Needless to say, I erased the whole thing (measly 3 pages anyway) and now I’ve started over. Sober. But I’m stuck again.

I’ve tried to do the whole clearing of the mind, putting myself in a calm, clear state, but my upstairs neighbors make that nearly impossible no matter what time of day it is. My lack of focus is really irking me, and now I’m whining to you. I feel that I’ve been doing a lot of unnecessary whining lately, and I apologize to those who have heard it outside of the writing realm. My inattentiveness might stem from the fact that even though I’m incredibly busy, I’m also bored, and when I’m bored there seems to be a lack of focus. I’ve said it before and here I go saying it again, I think I have a form of ADHD when it comes to writing a book. Whine, whine, whine, bitch, bitch, complain. Okay, I’m done. Thanks for listening.

Squirrel!

There I go again… onto the next project.