Week 4: Eyes Forward, Don’t Look Back

Gang of writers!  You are into Week 4 now!  Do not give up.  You will be tempted to read back through what you’ve already written, to see how you’ve been doing…. DON’T!  There lies madness.

Hemingway used to have a practice that he would look back only at the last page he wrote before starting again the next day, just to give himself context, but he didn’t read back through the whole thing.  You can’t really see the manuscript in the right light right now.  It is something you’ve enjoyed writing and it kind of wavers in your mind as a beautiful dream.  Let it.  Don’t go back and see the typos, the run-ons, or any other flaws.  It will just discourage you.  All rough drafts, even all drafts, have their flaws—and that’s okay.  But if we stop to correct all our flaws before moving forward we will be caught just correcting our mistakes, and editing.

This is not a time for editing.  This is a time for creating (unless you are Jim and you have set out to edit!).  Create the stories inside of you and damn what they look like.

I always think of Orpheus and Eurydice as a comment on the act of creation.  As long as he believed he had Eurydice in the boat, he could make it–but as soon as he looked to make sure she was really there, then she disappeared from him forever.

This picture, in marble, I think, is the picture of Orpheus covering his eyes and walking foward.  He’s got to believe it’s all good behind him.  And you do too!

It actually WAS good behind him, but he messed it up by looking.

Your writing IS good behind you–but you’ll wreck it because you want to MAKE SURE it’s good.  Don’t look.  Just keep believing it is what it needs to be, and that your critical mind will only play havoc with your will to write.

Persevere!  You can keep going till the end of the sixth week!  I believe in you.  Do not look back.

Everything you’ve written is behind you 100% and so are we.

CBC North interviews Karen Joy Fowler about the Clarion Write-a-thon!

Well, this is freakin’ cool!  Dave White, one of the local broadcasting DJs here at CBC North, asked if he could interview Karen Joy Fowler about this write-a-thon–the VERY ONE YOU ARE DOING.  Yep!  Team Bears Discover Fire gets a shout out even!

And two of our writers, besides myself, are from Whitehorse, and this gave it its local component–but the talk with Karen is about the importance of Clarion, this write-a-thon, and your getting done with what you are doing!

If you’ve got a moment, here’s the full clip.

http://www.cbc.ca/airplay/episodes/2012/07/16/supporting-science-fiction/

She says I’m supposed to nag you more…. I need to nag you!

How are things going?  How are you feeling?  What are you doing?  And most importantly, are you having fun yet?

What Fire Have You Discovered?

So, we’re nearing the end of WEEK 2!  What FIRE have you discovered, bears?  What kinds of things are astounding you, surprising you, driving you?  What did you find that you never knew you had?

Let me know below what kinds of things you’re discovering about yourself as a writer!  Or about your stories?  Where is your fire coming from?  What is that fire?

This is Brunnhilde from the NY MET’s production of Wagner’s Ring Cycle (specifically this picture is from Götterdämmerung, the lovely Debra Voight).  She’s discovered a fire in her that she never knew existed.  She was a Valkyrie and put her job and life on the line when she decided to protect a much-maligned woman, pregnant with a Very Important Hero.  She stood up to her own Father, king of the gods, was stripped of everything she knew and left inside a mountain, vulnerable to whatever hero might come along and save her.  That’ll teach her for letting her passion guide her!

Lo and behold, it was that same unborn child who grew up to save her from the mountain’s exile, and went on to truly love her!

She found her fire–and she went through Hell and back–but she did what she believed in.

What’s the FIRE YOU’VE DISCOVERED?  Let your passions guide you as you write this weekend!  Stoke them and see how they burn bright.  Tell us below about what you’re finding are YOUR fires!

When You Lose the Will to Write

Lots of other write-a-thons and timed writing exercises, like three day novels and NANOWRIMO out there, will keep pushing and prodding and cheerleading!  They are getting you through a process, keeping your will strong!  They hope that you don’t ever…slow…down…and possibly have the worst thing happen to you: you lose the will to write.  You sit in front of your computer and you don’t really WANT to write.

(You shrink back, aghast!)

It happens.

It’s okay.  As long as you don’t panic.  Don’t think that you have PERMANENTLY lost the will to write.  Don’t project into a boring future where you will NEVER want to write again.  It’s too scary to make it a permanent condition.

I think this happens to all writers–that there will be days you just don’t care about writing.  Take them in stride.  Go outside, go walking, go do the housework you’ve put off, go see a friend, go do anything.  I don’t think it’s helpful for me to sit at the computer and push something out.  This is different than Writer’s Block–which should be pushed through.  This is Writer’s Depression, maybe.

It has happened to me.  Perhaps it was that I had several stories all wanting my attention.  Perhaps it was that I had a lot of other stressful things on my plate.  Perhaps, this or that….but there I sat in front of the computer saying, Meh.  It scared me.  I thought perhaps I had reached a point of no return–that the will to write would never come back.

Dear God!

All those wasted hours typing words!  What would become of me?? (x 3 days)

And then I got a hold of myself.

Here’s how it got cured:

1.  My friends whom I confided in said “this too shall pass”–and that helped.  Treating it as if it were going to last forever just exacerbated it.

2.  I didn’t sit in front of the computer acting like a jilted lover waiting for the phone to ring.  I got up and had me some LIFE.  I hiked; I did housework; I gave myself permission to watch movies, read books, and do other things that stimulated me.  I didn’t get more depressed because my will was gone.  Reading books is WONDERFUL.

3.  I gave myself a goal for one of those stories–when I got back to it.  I wrote it down.  Goals are good.  They fuel all those writing races I talked about–but those are time goals.  Sometimes, just telling yourself that you will finish this story or that story takes the pressure off and allows the play to come back.  You’ve promised that you’ll re-consider it.

4.  Instead of bemoaning how the Will hadn’t come, I took a specific problem in a specific story and I sat down with a notebook in bed.  Yep, pen in hand, notebook open, I decided to think about one certain section just making it a problem to solve.  I took away the computer, the pressure to perform, and just went after a problem like a detective.  THAT was refreshing!

5.  I tended  to other things that had been depressing me–cause sometimes it’s transference.  Other places where you were experiencing depression or rejection or feelings of failure.  Work on those.  I found a particular thing I was doing that was making me feel rejected over and over…. online dating.  It’s like being trapped in a bar and saying hello to every handsome person that comes in the door–but you yourself never leave the bar.  That’s not good for an ego that has to be pretty high to write!  (yes, we have strong egos, us writers!)  Rejection in one area can transfer to other areas.  Perhaps it’s rejection in sending stuff out.  Or feelings of failure in other areas.  Tend to those areas, separating those from you the writer.

6.  I tended to things that have been piling up— sometimes we write to escape.  Well, sometimes the problems won’t go away.  Many of us have had times in our lives where the writing isn’t the most important thing to get done.  That’s okay.  As little as ten minutes or an hour doing the thing we’re avoiding actually creates joy and space in our brain to do the thing we like. Sometimes we just have to wait till the other crisis is over.  Writers who have established long-running writing times may be able to sail over these bumps, but sometimes these issues and problems need some attention or they won’t allow us to write.

7.  I breathed.  And gave myself some room NOT to write.  I know, how can I say that in a 6 week write-a-thon!?  (*Karen would kill me!)  But I would be negligent if I told you to write every moment of your available time, like turning the engine on for six weeks straight.  Like keeping a light on 24hrs a day–the bulb will need to be replaced.  It will burn out.  But pacing yourself, oh that’s nice.  Don’t burn yourself out with pressure to perform.  These are your six weeks–know when to take a break.  (*Karen wouldn’t kill me. She knows this is true.)

Slowly, like that wolf comes to Kevin Costner in Dances with Wolves, the Will to Write will come back to you.  Be patient.  Don’t sweat it.  It happens.  Don’t beat yourself up about it.  It may take hours, or days, or weeks.  But it will come back if you don’t get upset about it being gone.

LIVE and the writing will follow. 

Hey Teammates! …

Hey Teammates! Clarion is all about sharing stories and hearing what fellow writers think. Here’s a children’s Christmas story I wrote a couple of years ago. Still hunting for a publisher, but in the meantime, thought I’d share.

It’s formatted in the pages I envision for the images; when I send it to publishers, I send it as a story, but I prefer to think of it in this format!

Jim

==========================

SEYMOUR
THE CHRISTMAS BILLY-GOAT

1.
Seymour the Christmas Billy-goat was sad.
Looking out the window of the shack where he lived on the Christmas tree lot, he could see that all the Christmas trees were sold.
Except one.

2.
One last lonely Christmas tree.

3.
Seymour trotted over to the lonely tree.
It was his job to sell all the trees, but no one had bought this one yet.
And tomorrow was Christmas Day.
“You’re too far from the road,” Seymour told the tree. Lowering his horns, he butted the tree to push it forward.

4.
“HEY!” said a little voice.
Seymour stopped.
“HEY!” said another little voice.

5.
Seymour looked closely at the tree. He saw a mouse on one of the branches.
No, he thought, two mice.
“Who are you?” he asked.

6.
“I’m Hannah,” said one mouse.
“I’m Henrietta,” said the other.
“We’re mice,” said Hannah.
Henrietta rolled her eyes. “He knows that, silly.” To Seymour, she said, “We’re sisters.”

7.
“Why are you in my tree?” Seymour asked.
“It’s our tree,” Hannah said. “We live here.”
“But I have to sell it. It’s the last lonely Christmas tree, and it needs a home.

8.
Henrietta and Hannah looked at each other, their eyes big.
“We need a home,” Hannah said. “Besides, you have to find our mother. She’s lost.”
Seymour thought that maybe Henrietta and Hannah were lost. Mothers don’t get lost.
“She was in another tree when someone bought it,” Henrietta said. “They took her away.”

9.
“How will you find her?” Hannah asked.
“Me?” said Seymour.
Henrietta rolled her eyes again. “We’re too SMALL,” she said.

10.
Seymour looked around. There was no one else there to help.
“But anyone could have bought that tree,” he said.
He was thinking very hard, but didn’t know what to do.

11.
Then Seymour had an idea.
“Maybe if I look for a house with a pest control truck outside, it will be the house where your mother is.”
Hannah and Henrietta were horrified.
“Mice are NOT pests!” said Hannah.
Hennrietta put her tiny hands on her hips, and stared at Seymour. “Not pests at all!” she added.

12.
“I wasn’t calling you pests,” Seymour protested. “It’s just what it says on the truck.”
“Humph!” said Henrietta. She crossed her arms and turned away.
“Yes, well, humph!” said Hannah. She looked at Seymour, and then at Henrietta. Looking at Seymour again, she wrinkled her nose and asked, “Do you think it will work?”

13.
“I can try,” said Seymour.
He trotted back across the Christmas tree lot, and into the neighborhood.
“Her name’s Hermione,” Hannah called after him.

14.
First he went to Breck Hill Lane.
No truck there.

15.
Then he went to Shoestrap Road.
No truck there either.

16.
Then he went to Hilltop Drive.
There it was, a truck with ‘PEST CONTROL’ written in big letters on the side, outside 9 Hilltop Drive.

17.
“Mice are not pests,” Seymour mumbled to himself as he walked slowly across the lawn.
Standing on his hind legs, Seymour peered inside the window.
It was chaos.

18.
He could see a young boy and his little sister running around the room, laughing and screaming. Their mother was on a chair, while their dad held a broom firmly in his hands.
The pest control man had a net, and was closing in on a tiny mouse, trapped near the front door.
Seymour had to act fast.

19.
Seymour ran to the door and, lowering his head, banged his horns on the door as if he was knocking really loudly.
It got suddenly quiet inside, and the door opened.

20.
It was the dad, broom in hand. He stared down at Seymour.
The pest control man was staring at Seymour too, wondering what had made such a noise.
The little mouse saw her chance. She raced right out the door past Seymour and kept going.

21.
“Wait! Hermione!” cried Seymour, running after her. “Do you know Henrietta and Hannah?”
“My daughters!” she said, and ran back to Seymour.
“Climb up my beard,” he said, “and I’ll take you to them.” Lowering his chin, he felt a little tiny weight climbing through his beard, and then winced at the little tiny feet scratching across his face until Hermione settled in between his horns.

22.
When they got back to the Christmas tree lot, Hannah and Henrietta were waiting nervously. They cheered when they saw their mother. Seymour lowered his head just in time as Hermione ran down his face and jumped to the ground, giving both her girls a huge hug.
“Mommy, you got lost,” cried Hannah.
“Well, actually,” her mother replied, “you climbed into the wrong tree, young ladies. But it’s okay now, we’re back together for Christmas.”

23.
Hermione turned to Seymour. “Thank you, sir, for saving me and saving our Christmas.” She curtsied, and the girls chimed in with their thank-yous.
“You’re all welcome,” Seymour replied.

24.
Hermione turned to the children and said, “Now it’s time to go back to that tree you found.”
“But you can’t live in that tree,” said Seymour. “Someone might buy it.”
The three little mice stared up at Seymour, scared looks on their faces.
“You can’t live in a tree, anyway,” Seymour continued. “It’s too cold. You have to come live in my shack.”

25.
Hermione started to protest, but with two tiny shrieks of delight Henrietta and Hannah raced toward Seymour’s shack and, finding a narrow gap in the door, ran inside.
“I guess it’s settled,” Seymour told Hermione.

26.
A little while later, Hannah and Henrietta were drinking hot cocoa out of a small saucer Seymour had found. He didn’t have mouse-sized teacups yet, but the girls didn’t seem to mind.
There was a loud knock at the door.
Seymour opened the door to find the pest control man. For a moment, he felt afraid.

27.
Hearing a little tiny scream from behind him, Seymour knew he had to be brave.
He stood on his hind legs so the pest control man wouldn’t be able to see Hermione and her daughters. “May I help you?” he asked.
“Is that last Christmas tree for sale?” the pest control man asked. “Tomorrow’s Christmas, and I don’t have my tree yet.”

28.
So Seymour sold him the tree, and that’s how the last lonely Christmas tree found a home. It’s also how Hermione, Henrietta and Hannah found a new home too.
If you buy your Christmas tree from Seymour this year, make sure to ask him to say hello to them for you. They’ll be inside the hut, warm by the fire, trying to stay out of trouble.

It’s Tuesday, where have your words taken you?

Bloodroots Barter

Oh, I’m curious what’s been happening on your side of the screen!  Where have your words taken you the first week?  Inside the hull of a whaling ship?  Across a beachhead in Southern France?  to an island in the sky?  into the future?

My words have taken me into the traveling bus of a bluegrass band, one with a secret that could get them off the tops of the charts if they don’t play their songs juuuust right.

Where have you been going, Bears?

Tell me by answering this post with a reply below.

 

 

 

 

* pic from Bloodroots Barter, a Kentucky Bluegrass band.  While they themselves look fitting enough for a fantasy story, my story has nothing to do with this fabulous band.  But check out their work here.

June 2011-Jeremiah S.Papineau

“The band has been performing its own brand of “dirty, raw, passionate, desperate, intricate, moonshine-driven American roots Music” across the country”–The Burgh