How writing is like parenting—especially the kind I’ve just been dealing with:
1) Years of work (often with no pay) with no guarantee how it will turn out and even if we like the results, there’s no guarantee anyone else will.
2) Lots of time spent praying—for inspiration, patience, survival (ours or theirs), etc.
3) Need to be creative.
4) Just because we’ve given birth to them (child or characters in a story) doesn’t mean they will always do what we say.
5) A sense of humor is essential.
6) Occasions when just chucking it all looks like a good idea.
7) An ability to roll with the punches is essential.
8) Our creations (children or stories) can surprise us in unexpected ways—some of them truly wonderful.
9) Lots of sleepless nights.
10) Immense frustration at times and immense joy.
11) We need to be ruthlessly honest with ourselves about what we’re doing right and what we’re doing wrong.
12) We need to be open to learning new ways of doing things and to feedback.
13) We need to trust our instincts.
14) We’re all doing the best we can—hoping that we and our creations make it and are successful.
15) Sometimes feeling desperate for adult conversation instead of only interacting with our creations.
16) Did I mention there will be lots of prayers and sleepless nights?
Well, that should be the end of the Demented Parenting Monologues—at least for the moment.
Now to get ready for my workshops at the Beau Monde and RWA Conferences!
April
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Further Adventures in Demented Parenting
I have this tendency to laugh hysterically when someone who isn’t a writer speculates about how glamorous a writer’s life must be. (Terri Brisbin does a wonderful riff on this!) For those following such things, my saga of demented parenting continues this week with:
Discover there are not one but two phones that need to be hidden after 10 o’clock at night. Discover ex-husband (on a cruise in Alaska with girlfriend) forgot to tell me at least one callee is up in arms about late calls. Wonder what else ex-husband has forgotten to mention about this house and situation where I no longer live.
Continue morning tug of war and sitting on blankets in the morning to get son out of bed.
Someone mentions that Tylenol pm has knocked son out in the past so he slept. Run to store at 10pm to try to get some. Discover many stores closed by then. Cuss furiously as I race from store to store thinking it’s a good thing I haven’t been drinking just in case I get pulled over. Get to store and discover Tylenol pm contains same ingredient as Benadryl which hasn’t worked. Buy anyway hoping stuff at home is just too old and new stuff will work. Think desperately about stopping and buying that whiskey but manage to stay strong and just head home. Discover two hours later that nope, it doesn’t knock out son. Am tempted to take some so I can sleep.
Need to get research done. MUST get research done. Throw son in car when he misses bus by 5 minutes next morning. Vow it’s never happening again and only today because I MUST get to the library and it’s across the street from son’s program. Drop him off, do research, race to meet fellow writer, then race home to be there before son arrives and decides to do “experiments” or rearrange the house—again. Realize forgot to go to store to pick up something to fix for dinner. Decide maybe fast food isn’t a mortal sin once in a while especially if can thereby get son to eat by 7pm instead of 9 pm—or later.
We writers must cope with everything everyone else does. The good thing is, of course, that as writers we’re never alone even when we’re stuck home with our kids. There are all those pesky characters clamoring for their stories to be told. We can’t get bored, even if things are so crazy we can’t get a chance to read a book. (Hey, there’s a reason our TBR—to be read—piles sometimes hit the ceiling!) After all, even if we can’t read, we can make up stories in our heads.
We know how to create heroes and heroines, too. Odds are we know about danger and taking risks—even if it is just leaping tall piles of dirty laundry to dive and snatch something out of our children’s hands at the last possible moment. Or we’ve raced through streets to get someone we care about where they need to be in the nick of time (despite their best efforts to delay us). We know about the hard choices people sometimes have to make. We know that sometimes even when we love someone we have to walk away. We know that there aren’t always simple answers to things—no matter how much we wish there were.
Most people know these things. If we’re writers, the difference is that we have a compulsion to put things down on paper and share them with others. We write because we must. We write knowing that stories are what bind people to together. We write because we know what a difference it makes to open a book and read about someone facing the same kind of challenges we have in our own lives or who feels the same emotions so that we know we are not alone.
Whoops! Time to go leap some more tall piles of laundry!
April
Discover there are not one but two phones that need to be hidden after 10 o’clock at night. Discover ex-husband (on a cruise in Alaska with girlfriend) forgot to tell me at least one callee is up in arms about late calls. Wonder what else ex-husband has forgotten to mention about this house and situation where I no longer live.
Continue morning tug of war and sitting on blankets in the morning to get son out of bed.
Someone mentions that Tylenol pm has knocked son out in the past so he slept. Run to store at 10pm to try to get some. Discover many stores closed by then. Cuss furiously as I race from store to store thinking it’s a good thing I haven’t been drinking just in case I get pulled over. Get to store and discover Tylenol pm contains same ingredient as Benadryl which hasn’t worked. Buy anyway hoping stuff at home is just too old and new stuff will work. Think desperately about stopping and buying that whiskey but manage to stay strong and just head home. Discover two hours later that nope, it doesn’t knock out son. Am tempted to take some so I can sleep.
Need to get research done. MUST get research done. Throw son in car when he misses bus by 5 minutes next morning. Vow it’s never happening again and only today because I MUST get to the library and it’s across the street from son’s program. Drop him off, do research, race to meet fellow writer, then race home to be there before son arrives and decides to do “experiments” or rearrange the house—again. Realize forgot to go to store to pick up something to fix for dinner. Decide maybe fast food isn’t a mortal sin once in a while especially if can thereby get son to eat by 7pm instead of 9 pm—or later.
We writers must cope with everything everyone else does. The good thing is, of course, that as writers we’re never alone even when we’re stuck home with our kids. There are all those pesky characters clamoring for their stories to be told. We can’t get bored, even if things are so crazy we can’t get a chance to read a book. (Hey, there’s a reason our TBR—to be read—piles sometimes hit the ceiling!) After all, even if we can’t read, we can make up stories in our heads.
We know how to create heroes and heroines, too. Odds are we know about danger and taking risks—even if it is just leaping tall piles of dirty laundry to dive and snatch something out of our children’s hands at the last possible moment. Or we’ve raced through streets to get someone we care about where they need to be in the nick of time (despite their best efforts to delay us). We know about the hard choices people sometimes have to make. We know that sometimes even when we love someone we have to walk away. We know that there aren’t always simple answers to things—no matter how much we wish there were.
Most people know these things. If we’re writers, the difference is that we have a compulsion to put things down on paper and share them with others. We write because we must. We write knowing that stories are what bind people to together. We write because we know what a difference it makes to open a book and read about someone facing the same kind of challenges we have in our own lives or who feels the same emotions so that we know we are not alone.
Whoops! Time to go leap some more tall piles of laundry!
April
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Adventures in Demented Parenting
Life happens. It even happens to us writers—much as we wish we could just focus on the words and stories we’re creating.
Not only does life happen, but kids (even adult ones) can really happen to us! Here are some brief snippets of what my week has been like:
Up at 5 am, getting to the airport and discovering all flights delayed, sweet talking a gate agent to rebook me on an earlier (still delayed) flight, sprinting through an airport so that I can make my connection with 2 minutes to spare, luggage arriving at midnight, sitting on a pile of blankets at 9 in the morning so my son (Down syndrome) can’t go back to bed and has to get ready for his program, thinking that maybe it’s a good thing there’s no whiskey in the house because drinking this early in the morning probably wouldn’t be a good idea.....
By the second day, whiskey at 9:30am isn’t looking like such a bad idea.
By Saturday I’m hiding the phone so that he can’t make phone calls to God only knows who at 1 o’clock in the morning!
Life happens. As writers, it can be difficult to find ways to carve out the time we need to write. And yet, if we don’t, we lose part of ourselves and our ability to cope with the challenges in our lives.
As writers, we’re lucky. I can put down in words my frustration. I can envision fanciful scenarios that get me laughing and able to rethink how to deal with my son. Heck, just the practice envisioning such scenarios means I’ve honed my creative muscles and just might think of a solution that will work—at least temporarily—with my son.
As writers, we’re also used to putting ourselves in our character’s skin. Which is useful for being able to imagine what might be motivating the person (in this case my son) giving us a hard time. Once we do that, we have a chance to begin to figure out solutions to difficult situations.
If all else fails, we sometimes get great material to some day work into a story!
Mind you, I still plan to hide the phone again tonight and I keep thinking about buying that bottle of whiskey.....
April
Not only does life happen, but kids (even adult ones) can really happen to us! Here are some brief snippets of what my week has been like:
Up at 5 am, getting to the airport and discovering all flights delayed, sweet talking a gate agent to rebook me on an earlier (still delayed) flight, sprinting through an airport so that I can make my connection with 2 minutes to spare, luggage arriving at midnight, sitting on a pile of blankets at 9 in the morning so my son (Down syndrome) can’t go back to bed and has to get ready for his program, thinking that maybe it’s a good thing there’s no whiskey in the house because drinking this early in the morning probably wouldn’t be a good idea.....
By the second day, whiskey at 9:30am isn’t looking like such a bad idea.
By Saturday I’m hiding the phone so that he can’t make phone calls to God only knows who at 1 o’clock in the morning!
Life happens. As writers, it can be difficult to find ways to carve out the time we need to write. And yet, if we don’t, we lose part of ourselves and our ability to cope with the challenges in our lives.
As writers, we’re lucky. I can put down in words my frustration. I can envision fanciful scenarios that get me laughing and able to rethink how to deal with my son. Heck, just the practice envisioning such scenarios means I’ve honed my creative muscles and just might think of a solution that will work—at least temporarily—with my son.
As writers, we’re also used to putting ourselves in our character’s skin. Which is useful for being able to imagine what might be motivating the person (in this case my son) giving us a hard time. Once we do that, we have a chance to begin to figure out solutions to difficult situations.
If all else fails, we sometimes get great material to some day work into a story!
Mind you, I still plan to hide the phone again tonight and I keep thinking about buying that bottle of whiskey.....
April
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Writer's League of Texas
I’d been hearing about the WLT even outside of Texas. People at the East of Eden conference in Salinas, CA last fall asked me if I belonged. I kept thinking I should join but never got around to it until last month.
I’ve been to two meetings now and listened to some very talented writers read from their work—contest winners and published authors. I talked to other writers sitting in the audience. One of them asked me why, if I have so many published books, I would need a writer’s organization at all.
Maybe it’s because I wrote my first 16 books in isolation. I didn’t know any other published authors. I sure as heck didn’t know anything about the business! I didn’t know anyone who would really understand when I talked about my characters arguing with me and refusing to do what they were told.
I learned so much when I joined Romance Writers of America in (I think) 1994. Got an agent for the very first time—the terrific Linda Kruger who retired a couple of years ago. (I have to admit I haven’t worked very hard to replace her yet but I know that I should.) I learned so much about the business that I had never known and I've made wonderful friends.
In the years since then, I’ve found myself speaking to non-romance writing groups as well—horror/sf writers, mystery writers, and general writing groups. What I’ve found is that each has its own distinctive feel. Each has a somewhat different perspective on the world of publishing. And yet ultimately we all share the same hopes and dreams and fears.
There are no magic short cuts. There are no secret handshakes. There are no 100% guarantees a given project will be bought by NY. I’ve heard it said that if we can stop writing we should. The problem is, of course, that we can’t. If we’re writers, we’re writers and we’ll write no matter what. If we’re writers, we have stories to tell, wisdom or ideas to share, a need to communicate through the written word. And the world needs those stories, that wisdom, those ideas.
All of which is my way of saying that I’m glad I finally joined the Writer’s League of Texas.
April
I’ve been to two meetings now and listened to some very talented writers read from their work—contest winners and published authors. I talked to other writers sitting in the audience. One of them asked me why, if I have so many published books, I would need a writer’s organization at all.
Maybe it’s because I wrote my first 16 books in isolation. I didn’t know any other published authors. I sure as heck didn’t know anything about the business! I didn’t know anyone who would really understand when I talked about my characters arguing with me and refusing to do what they were told.
I learned so much when I joined Romance Writers of America in (I think) 1994. Got an agent for the very first time—the terrific Linda Kruger who retired a couple of years ago. (I have to admit I haven’t worked very hard to replace her yet but I know that I should.) I learned so much about the business that I had never known and I've made wonderful friends.
In the years since then, I’ve found myself speaking to non-romance writing groups as well—horror/sf writers, mystery writers, and general writing groups. What I’ve found is that each has its own distinctive feel. Each has a somewhat different perspective on the world of publishing. And yet ultimately we all share the same hopes and dreams and fears.
There are no magic short cuts. There are no secret handshakes. There are no 100% guarantees a given project will be bought by NY. I’ve heard it said that if we can stop writing we should. The problem is, of course, that we can’t. If we’re writers, we’re writers and we’ll write no matter what. If we’re writers, we have stories to tell, wisdom or ideas to share, a need to communicate through the written word. And the world needs those stories, that wisdom, those ideas.
All of which is my way of saying that I’m glad I finally joined the Writer’s League of Texas.
April
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Father's Day 2007
I just finished reading Match Me If You Can by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. It works on many levels—as all her books do. One aspect of it, though, struck me in light of this being Father’s Day.
One of the ideas in this book is that a family can love and believe in someone even if they act like jerks toward that person. I found myself thinking what a powerful idea that is.
Many of us had less than ideal families who treated us in less than ideal ways—including perhaps our fathers. And there is a part of each of us for whom that is true that wants to believe we are loved and that our families do believe in us—whatever the apparent evidence to the contrary.
And that’s what makes a book “work.” It’s the emotional points of connection, the moments when we feel as strong a tug to our heartstrings as the characters feel to theirs. It’s when we KNOW how the characters feel because a part of us feels the same.
This is true even of hard thrillers. The emotion may be less explicitly on the page but it’s there. It’s implicit in the: What if I could be the one who saves the world? What if my life was at stake? What if I had to choose between power and wealth and the principles I believe in?
When I read a book about a loving father, it always gets to me because I wish I’d had one. When I read about a father like mine, I find myself nodding with understanding over what the son or daughter feels. And it’s always a point of emotional connection for me.
One of the reasons I loved books growing up is that because in books I could see how fathers might be. And it let me believe that not all men would be like my father. I could find role models for how to love that I didn’t see at home. It’s why I think I became a writer—because I know how important the stories we tell might be to the right person who reads it. It’s why I celebrate the success of every writer—not just my own. All our stories matter.
Happy Father’s Day to everyone who has a reason to celebrate it today. A silent toast to those of us who do not.
April
One of the ideas in this book is that a family can love and believe in someone even if they act like jerks toward that person. I found myself thinking what a powerful idea that is.
Many of us had less than ideal families who treated us in less than ideal ways—including perhaps our fathers. And there is a part of each of us for whom that is true that wants to believe we are loved and that our families do believe in us—whatever the apparent evidence to the contrary.
And that’s what makes a book “work.” It’s the emotional points of connection, the moments when we feel as strong a tug to our heartstrings as the characters feel to theirs. It’s when we KNOW how the characters feel because a part of us feels the same.
This is true even of hard thrillers. The emotion may be less explicitly on the page but it’s there. It’s implicit in the: What if I could be the one who saves the world? What if my life was at stake? What if I had to choose between power and wealth and the principles I believe in?
When I read a book about a loving father, it always gets to me because I wish I’d had one. When I read about a father like mine, I find myself nodding with understanding over what the son or daughter feels. And it’s always a point of emotional connection for me.
One of the reasons I loved books growing up is that because in books I could see how fathers might be. And it let me believe that not all men would be like my father. I could find role models for how to love that I didn’t see at home. It’s why I think I became a writer—because I know how important the stories we tell might be to the right person who reads it. It’s why I celebrate the success of every writer—not just my own. All our stories matter.
Happy Father’s Day to everyone who has a reason to celebrate it today. A silent toast to those of us who do not.
April
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Writer's Block
This is a topic I’m seeing on a couple of loops I’m on. And I think it’s important to talk about it.
Every writer I know worries, to some degree, with every book they write. We care about the stories we tell—sometimes too much. We worry that it won’t be good enough or that it won’t matter in the way that we want it to matter. If our last book didn’t have the numbers we want, we worry our books never will. If our books got great reviews or sales or nominated for an award, we may worry that we’ll never be able to do it again. If we worry enough, we get paralyzed and that’s writer’s block.
Writer’s block is one of the big things that can bring a writer to me for life coaching—that or the desire to have me evaluate a manuscript so they can know if they’re on target or not.
I give workshops on Book in a Week as a way to write better and faster, yes, but really as a way to out run the fear so many of us deal with at some point in our writing careers.
I believe that when we are having fun we do whatever we’re doing better and with less fear. Often when I coach someone I spend a fair amount of time on how to make writing more fun and how to build self-confidence. Some of the things I suggest for everyone:
1) Make a list of every success in your life. In a sense, this is your list of reasons to believe in yourself.
2) Make a list of things that make you smile and do at least three things from that list every day.
3) Make a list of why your writing matters to you—what you love about your work and what you value—so that you remember why you WANT to write.
4) Try writing in short burst where you don’t let yourself second guess what you write—that can come later when you’re doing revisions. Odds are your muse or subconscious knows things it isn’t telling you and it will be okay.
5) If you’re really stuck, stop and do something fun and creative. Odds are that will jump start your muse and you’ll see the solution to the problem or what to write next.
6) Play around with something you write just for yourself so that you can tap back into that joy that got you started writing in the first place.
And if all else fails, close your eyes and remember playing make believe as a child. That’s what we’re still doing as writers—we’re just putting it down on paper (or into the computer) too.
April
Every writer I know worries, to some degree, with every book they write. We care about the stories we tell—sometimes too much. We worry that it won’t be good enough or that it won’t matter in the way that we want it to matter. If our last book didn’t have the numbers we want, we worry our books never will. If our books got great reviews or sales or nominated for an award, we may worry that we’ll never be able to do it again. If we worry enough, we get paralyzed and that’s writer’s block.
Writer’s block is one of the big things that can bring a writer to me for life coaching—that or the desire to have me evaluate a manuscript so they can know if they’re on target or not.
I give workshops on Book in a Week as a way to write better and faster, yes, but really as a way to out run the fear so many of us deal with at some point in our writing careers.
I believe that when we are having fun we do whatever we’re doing better and with less fear. Often when I coach someone I spend a fair amount of time on how to make writing more fun and how to build self-confidence. Some of the things I suggest for everyone:
1) Make a list of every success in your life. In a sense, this is your list of reasons to believe in yourself.
2) Make a list of things that make you smile and do at least three things from that list every day.
3) Make a list of why your writing matters to you—what you love about your work and what you value—so that you remember why you WANT to write.
4) Try writing in short burst where you don’t let yourself second guess what you write—that can come later when you’re doing revisions. Odds are your muse or subconscious knows things it isn’t telling you and it will be okay.
5) If you’re really stuck, stop and do something fun and creative. Odds are that will jump start your muse and you’ll see the solution to the problem or what to write next.
6) Play around with something you write just for yourself so that you can tap back into that joy that got you started writing in the first place.
And if all else fails, close your eyes and remember playing make believe as a child. That’s what we’re still doing as writers—we’re just putting it down on paper (or into the computer) too.
April
Thursday, May 31, 2007
The Fruit Tree
Some of you have been with me since I was sending email as I went across country. Some of you have been reading since I began this blog as I drove to Texas to my new home here. If so, you remember my uncertainty, my hopes, my adventures finding secondhand furniture. This week I learned something new about my home. There is a fruit tree in the back yard.
Now I can only assume it produces fruit every other year because it definitely did not do so last year. Nor do I know what kind of fruit tree it is though it looks as if it might be apricots or peaches.
I’ve always wanted a fruit tree in my back yard. Thought about planting one but the information said that two were required to actually produce fruit. So you can imagine my confusion when I saw the green fruit appearing on my one little tree. Then yesterday I noticed that there is a huge, extremely prolific (far more so than mine!) peach tree in a yard nearby. So maybe that’s where the cross pollination came from. If so, I’m grateful.
Discovering this week that I have a fruit tree in my back yard seemed one more indication that this is indeed the right house for me.
Here’s hoping that all of you are in the homes that are right for you.
April
Now I can only assume it produces fruit every other year because it definitely did not do so last year. Nor do I know what kind of fruit tree it is though it looks as if it might be apricots or peaches.
I’ve always wanted a fruit tree in my back yard. Thought about planting one but the information said that two were required to actually produce fruit. So you can imagine my confusion when I saw the green fruit appearing on my one little tree. Then yesterday I noticed that there is a huge, extremely prolific (far more so than mine!) peach tree in a yard nearby. So maybe that’s where the cross pollination came from. If so, I’m grateful.
Discovering this week that I have a fruit tree in my back yard seemed one more indication that this is indeed the right house for me.
Here’s hoping that all of you are in the homes that are right for you.
April
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