Well, it's that time of year. Planting tomato and zucchini plants, stress for kids in college, HOA meetings.
My daughter and I had lunch at a wonderful spot in Austin this Saturday—the Eastside Cafe. Wonderful food and they have a gorgeous garden where they grow produce. Plus plants for sale. One zucchini plant and one tomato plant have gone into the ground in my back yard. Mind you, I had to get some fresh dirt first. What I have isn't the best in the world.
My daughter and I swapped grad school stories. Discovered there were things I'd never told her before. And I found myself thinking how much things have changed.
My HOA had its annual meeting this week, too. We were reminded that we're going to be annexed soon. Don't get me wrong—it's a lovely town. I'm just not so thrilled knowing how much my property taxes are going to go up as a result of our annexation! Lots of intense emotions, too, about choices the HOA will have to make about what to turn over to the city and what to keep. I found myself thinking I could see both sides and honestly didn't know which the better choice would be. Eventually I slipped out and walked back home, thinking how nice it was that I COULD walk home from where the HOA was meeting.
Mind you, this time of year also brings the annual fight against fire ants and I've had to mow my lawn quite a few times already but....still, it's a nice time of year.
Oh, and if you're curious to know more about my online Book in a Week class, Debora Dale has posted an interview with me on her blog.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Journeys
Every year at this time, I think of my cross country journey in 2003. It ultimately led to me settling here in the Austin area. I think with fondness of that adventure. (And I thought gas prices were high then!) It was, as one friend said at the time, a journey in emotional as well as physical miles.
Despite the concerns of some friends, I was perfectly safe going on my own. I learned a lot about myself. I learned it was okay to take wrong turns—sometimes that led to the most interesting experiences and it would turn out all right in the end any way. I learned that I could fit in anywhere. I learned that I liked people everywhere I went. I learned to let go of a lot of assumptions I had about myself and life. I learned that change was what life was all about.
Because of what I learned on that journey, I try, every year, to go new places and do new things. None of it is as grand as that cross country journey, but it doesn't have to be. Each new experience helps me grow. Each time I step outside my comfort zone, my comfort zone expands. And that's A GOOD THING.
What ways do you step outside your comfort zone? What are some of the experiences that are most vivid in your memory?
Despite the concerns of some friends, I was perfectly safe going on my own. I learned a lot about myself. I learned it was okay to take wrong turns—sometimes that led to the most interesting experiences and it would turn out all right in the end any way. I learned that I could fit in anywhere. I learned that I liked people everywhere I went. I learned to let go of a lot of assumptions I had about myself and life. I learned that change was what life was all about.
Because of what I learned on that journey, I try, every year, to go new places and do new things. None of it is as grand as that cross country journey, but it doesn't have to be. Each new experience helps me grow. Each time I step outside my comfort zone, my comfort zone expands. And that's A GOOD THING.
What ways do you step outside your comfort zone? What are some of the experiences that are most vivid in your memory?
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
How Do You Choose?
Who are you as a person? What are your priorities? How do you make choices? What are your fears? What are your hopes and dreams?
It's useful to ask ourselves those questions. Once we know, we can decide whether those answers are working for us or whether we want to rewrite them—and thereby improve our lives.
If we're writers, it's even more useful to ask ourselves these kinds of questions. If we pay attention to our own emotions and emotional responses to situations and people, then we have material for our writing, too.
Example: What is it that has allowed you at times to rise above your fears and do what's right even if you were scared or it wasn't what you wanted to do? Knowing the answer gives you a starting point for how a character in your story might grow or rise above his or her fears. If you write nonfiction, then knowing your own emotional high and low points and what works for you gives you a starting point for realizing what will matter to readers.
EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT A WRITER, it is useful to ask this question! All of us find ourselves at times in situations where, if we could change so that we rose above our fears or past patterns of behavior, it would get us out of a crisis or make life easier in some way. If we know what lets us rise above our fears and past patterns, then we can consciously choose to make sure that whatever worked before is present NOW as we set about making changes.
Isn't it great to know that we CAN rewrite our lives? Just because we've always had a fear of heights or had trouble managing money or told ourselves we couldn't do X, Y or Z doesn't mean we have to keep being that way!
And if we are writers, just think of the fodder for setting up turning points for our characters or in nonfiction recognizing what our readers' concerns (and possibly objections) will be.
So what questions can you ask yourself this week? What changes could you make in your life if you did?
Best,
April
PS I'm setting up an online class on REVISIONS THE PRACTICAL WAY. (April 25 to May 9, $25). Full details are on my website April Kihlstrom.
It's useful to ask ourselves those questions. Once we know, we can decide whether those answers are working for us or whether we want to rewrite them—and thereby improve our lives.
If we're writers, it's even more useful to ask ourselves these kinds of questions. If we pay attention to our own emotions and emotional responses to situations and people, then we have material for our writing, too.
Example: What is it that has allowed you at times to rise above your fears and do what's right even if you were scared or it wasn't what you wanted to do? Knowing the answer gives you a starting point for how a character in your story might grow or rise above his or her fears. If you write nonfiction, then knowing your own emotional high and low points and what works for you gives you a starting point for realizing what will matter to readers.
EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT A WRITER, it is useful to ask this question! All of us find ourselves at times in situations where, if we could change so that we rose above our fears or past patterns of behavior, it would get us out of a crisis or make life easier in some way. If we know what lets us rise above our fears and past patterns, then we can consciously choose to make sure that whatever worked before is present NOW as we set about making changes.
Isn't it great to know that we CAN rewrite our lives? Just because we've always had a fear of heights or had trouble managing money or told ourselves we couldn't do X, Y or Z doesn't mean we have to keep being that way!
And if we are writers, just think of the fodder for setting up turning points for our characters or in nonfiction recognizing what our readers' concerns (and possibly objections) will be.
So what questions can you ask yourself this week? What changes could you make in your life if you did?
Best,
April
PS I'm setting up an online class on REVISIONS THE PRACTICAL WAY. (April 25 to May 9, $25). Full details are on my website April Kihlstrom.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
The Unexpected
It’s easy to fall into patterns of thinking we know people by what we see. If we do so, however, we miss 9/10ths of what might be there.
When you pass the overweight woman in the store, do you stop to realize she might have been an aerobics instructor?
When you see the college professor, do you picture him hiking in the woods or playing a guitar?
When you see the harried mother in the airport, does it occur to you that she might be a high powered attorney?
When you see the young man with Down syndrome does it occur to you that he might play the piano?
If you are a writer creating characters, do you think to give them the unexpected talent or background or hobby?
Our lives will be richer if we look beyond the surface to see what we might not usually stop to notice or ask about or wonder. Our lives are richer when we truly look at people, look beyond our expectations and see the person who might defy every one of them. And the stories we write will be infinitely more interesting if we add dimensions to our characters that go beyond the surface to make each one unique.
When you pass the overweight woman in the store, do you stop to realize she might have been an aerobics instructor?
When you see the college professor, do you picture him hiking in the woods or playing a guitar?
When you see the harried mother in the airport, does it occur to you that she might be a high powered attorney?
When you see the young man with Down syndrome does it occur to you that he might play the piano?
If you are a writer creating characters, do you think to give them the unexpected talent or background or hobby?
Our lives will be richer if we look beyond the surface to see what we might not usually stop to notice or ask about or wonder. Our lives are richer when we truly look at people, look beyond our expectations and see the person who might defy every one of them. And the stories we write will be infinitely more interesting if we add dimensions to our characters that go beyond the surface to make each one unique.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Playing When We Write
How often do you play when you’re writing? How often do you let yourself remember the sheer joy of playing make believe as a child—and then extend it to your writing?
Last week I suggested playing “what if” with our lives. If you’re a writer, you know it’s an invaluable tool when planning a book. How often, though, do we put limits on how far we will push “what if”--especially if someone has reacted negatively and said: You can’t do that in a _________ book?
We need to be aware, of course, of reader expectations. And it’s useful—if we can—to fit what we’re writing into what editors are looking for. At the same time, some of the most memorable books have been those that broke the rules.
So the question becomes: How do we balance what expectations are with the vision we have for our own work?
My personal bias is to let there be no limits IN THE FIRST DRAFT of our project. Let our imaginations have full rein and see where the story goes. Then we can step back and look at whether or not what we have will work and what changes we might want and need to make.
I know there are some brilliant authors out there whose first draft is essentially ready to go to an editor. For most of us though, we’re going to be making revisions anyway. Why not see where our imagination takes us? If you are one of those writers who writes an essentially single draft book, then at least in the planning stage, before you start to write, let your imagination soar. You might think of things that will enrich your story immensely.
The key in taking such risks, I believe, is understanding the TRUE reader expectations—and finding a way to meet them. This isn’t necessarily just the stated conventions of the genre. It’s also about the EMOTIONAL payoff the reader wants to get from the book.
The other key is knowing what matters most to YOU about what you’re writing. Perhaps tweaking how you use certain elements will allow your story to fit the market a little better.
There are risks to writing outside the box but how will we discover the possible rewards if we don’t try?
Last week I suggested playing “what if” with our lives. If you’re a writer, you know it’s an invaluable tool when planning a book. How often, though, do we put limits on how far we will push “what if”--especially if someone has reacted negatively and said: You can’t do that in a _________ book?
We need to be aware, of course, of reader expectations. And it’s useful—if we can—to fit what we’re writing into what editors are looking for. At the same time, some of the most memorable books have been those that broke the rules.
So the question becomes: How do we balance what expectations are with the vision we have for our own work?
My personal bias is to let there be no limits IN THE FIRST DRAFT of our project. Let our imaginations have full rein and see where the story goes. Then we can step back and look at whether or not what we have will work and what changes we might want and need to make.
I know there are some brilliant authors out there whose first draft is essentially ready to go to an editor. For most of us though, we’re going to be making revisions anyway. Why not see where our imagination takes us? If you are one of those writers who writes an essentially single draft book, then at least in the planning stage, before you start to write, let your imagination soar. You might think of things that will enrich your story immensely.
The key in taking such risks, I believe, is understanding the TRUE reader expectations—and finding a way to meet them. This isn’t necessarily just the stated conventions of the genre. It’s also about the EMOTIONAL payoff the reader wants to get from the book.
The other key is knowing what matters most to YOU about what you’re writing. Perhaps tweaking how you use certain elements will allow your story to fit the market a little better.
There are risks to writing outside the box but how will we discover the possible rewards if we don’t try?
Monday, March 24, 2008
What If....?
This time of year is always a reminder to me that rebirthing ourselves over and over again is a natural and powerful step to take all through our lives. By that I mean stopping to think about where we are, how we got here, and whether changing any of our assumptions about our lives and ourselves—and our writing—might be worthwhile.
We make assumptions every day about how things are and who we are—as individuals and as writers. Often those assumptions are things we were taught by our families or society and often we outgrow them or discover they were never true in the first place—IF we stop to challenge them.
It’s so easy to go through life never questioning our assumptions but we do so at a very high price—cutting ourselves off from wonderful possibilities we might otherwise have. Some of the most wonderful writers out there didn’t listen to conventional wisdom—and we are all the richer because they didn’t. Some of our greatest inventions came from people who didn’t listen when they were told it couldn’t be done.
When we were children, we knew how to play make believe and ask: What if? What if we did that with our lives now? What if we asked ourselves: Could we be wrong about the person we think has insulted us? What if they were saying thinking something entirely different than what we think we heard?
What if we could do that thing we were told we couldn’t do when we were children? What if we aren’t tone deaf or incapable of doing math or shouldn’t even think about picking up a hammer or wrench?
What if we can find joy even on the most difficult of days? What if it’s okay to have fun as we move forward in our lives and take on new challenges? What if we can get our finances under control? What if....?
What if we stop and ask ourselves: What assumptions do I want to challenge TODAY? What new possibilities do I want to bring into my life NOW--even if I didn't know I could have them before? How can I expand my expectations for what’s possible for me—as a person AND as a writer?
How about you? What ways could you enrich your life AND your writing by asking: What if...?
We make assumptions every day about how things are and who we are—as individuals and as writers. Often those assumptions are things we were taught by our families or society and often we outgrow them or discover they were never true in the first place—IF we stop to challenge them.
It’s so easy to go through life never questioning our assumptions but we do so at a very high price—cutting ourselves off from wonderful possibilities we might otherwise have. Some of the most wonderful writers out there didn’t listen to conventional wisdom—and we are all the richer because they didn’t. Some of our greatest inventions came from people who didn’t listen when they were told it couldn’t be done.
When we were children, we knew how to play make believe and ask: What if? What if we did that with our lives now? What if we asked ourselves: Could we be wrong about the person we think has insulted us? What if they were saying thinking something entirely different than what we think we heard?
What if we could do that thing we were told we couldn’t do when we were children? What if we aren’t tone deaf or incapable of doing math or shouldn’t even think about picking up a hammer or wrench?
What if we can find joy even on the most difficult of days? What if it’s okay to have fun as we move forward in our lives and take on new challenges? What if we can get our finances under control? What if....?
What if we stop and ask ourselves: What assumptions do I want to challenge TODAY? What new possibilities do I want to bring into my life NOW--even if I didn't know I could have them before? How can I expand my expectations for what’s possible for me—as a person AND as a writer?
How about you? What ways could you enrich your life AND your writing by asking: What if...?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Why Do We Write What We Write?
If you’re a writer, do you know why you write what you write?
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. Sometimes I know the answer. Sometimes I have characters who demand that I tell their story. Sometimes it’s an idea that intrigues me. Sometimes I haven’t got a clue; I just know that I have to write something.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that whether or not I consciously know where a story comes from, it will always in some way be connected to something I’m sorting through in my own life. It might be the theme of faith and honor and courage or it might be watching someone I love struggle with a difficult challenge and hurting for them. It might be how to balance self and responsibility to others or it might be the power we have within us to overcome any challenge and change our lives—if we believe we can.
I know that my experiences affect what I write. I also know—as Barbara Samuel said so eloquently in a speech a few years ago—that what I write impacts me as well.
I guess it keeps going back to that saying: It’s easy to write. Just open a vein and bleed all over the page.
Except that sometimes it’s laughing all over the page or simply embracing that connection that in our best moments we as writers have—heart to heart with those who read our words.
At least that’s how I see the answer to the question of why I write what I write. How about you? Why do you write what you write?
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. Sometimes I know the answer. Sometimes I have characters who demand that I tell their story. Sometimes it’s an idea that intrigues me. Sometimes I haven’t got a clue; I just know that I have to write something.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that whether or not I consciously know where a story comes from, it will always in some way be connected to something I’m sorting through in my own life. It might be the theme of faith and honor and courage or it might be watching someone I love struggle with a difficult challenge and hurting for them. It might be how to balance self and responsibility to others or it might be the power we have within us to overcome any challenge and change our lives—if we believe we can.
I know that my experiences affect what I write. I also know—as Barbara Samuel said so eloquently in a speech a few years ago—that what I write impacts me as well.
I guess it keeps going back to that saying: It’s easy to write. Just open a vein and bleed all over the page.
Except that sometimes it’s laughing all over the page or simply embracing that connection that in our best moments we as writers have—heart to heart with those who read our words.
At least that’s how I see the answer to the question of why I write what I write. How about you? Why do you write what you write?
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