Boston Book Festival

    It should have been a no-brainer for me to be attending the Boston Book Festival for the years that I’ve lived here.  But no, I regret now that I missed 9 seasons of an amazing and FREE cultural experience.

But that’s what friends are for. 

    While changing over my laundry at the Big A laundromat (Names may have been changed to protect…well….me I guess) Anyway, while carefully shifting armloads of damp clothing careful to not lose any baby socks, I heard a booming voice behind me, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”  I smiled to myself.  Matt of the laundromat, and more importantly Matt the writer.  In short order, I had apprised him of the most efficient dryers and he had convinced me to attend at least the Writer’s Idol portion of the Boston Book Festival.

    And so sitting in a room jammed packed with aspiring and perspiring writer’s I calculated the chances of my first page being read and analyzed by the agents at the front.  250 submissions, and 20-25 to be read.  It was certainly better than playing the lottery, or not submitting anything at all. 

    As piece after piece was read, I gathered some important insights.  For example, I was quickly schooled about cliches I didn’t even know were cliche.  Sure, after reading thousands of pieces of middle and high school writing I knew better than to let “the sun shimmer” or the “water sparkle.”  But I had less of an idea that I should avoid starting a submission with: a dream, the weather a flashback, how the post office works, a therapist’s office. 

    The most important thing of all is to write.  And I’ve realized that it takes a village to do just that.  So, I’m back in blogosphere, giving a big shout out to each of you amazing readers, the author over at https://candidsandwanderingwords.wordpress.com and to my writing friend’s from TMWC.  So very many thanks!  Now to try NaNoWriMo….

Writing Update

Here is a letter I wrote to my friend a few days ago.  As I was writing I felt like I was writing to everyone who reads this blog, so I decided to post it.  

Hey--
     So it has been entirely too long since we talked!  We need to catch up.

     No word on my Glimmer Train submission but I have been writing.  I hope you have been too!   If there is one thing I've learned from reading "The Artist's Way" this summer, it is that everyone has something to say.  I mean you can paint it, glue it, dance it, sing it or write it but I (mostly) loved the challenge of writing 3 pages every day.  It definitely forced me to be more disciplined about writing. And it opened my eyes to the opportunities all around me.  Most of them are at the library which I love!  #nerdalert

          I was really wishing you were with me tonight because it was the very first meeting of the Writer’s Collaborative I joined!!!  The way it is set up is in a workshop style which means each time we meet we have all read one person’s piece (at least twice) and written comments.  The one we read tonight was a totally spooky Stephen King-like horror story.  I actually liked it which is very unlike me because usually blood and gore are not my thing.  Probably the closest thing I’ve read to “horror” is Harry Potter.

       But this workshop was such a cool experience. Everyone got there super early.  I was on time (which for me now that I have three kids is super early) but I was the last one there.  Plus we had a prompt that we could write about as optional homework and everyone did it but me!!!  Help me not become a slacker.  The prompt was...

Word Choice: One Syllable Words

Write a response (fiction, nonfiction, a scene, a description of a person or place, ect.) that is roughly 500 words and is made up of ONLY one syllable words. This exercise highlights the importance of word choice and pushes the limits of your vocabulary. You may even have to break out a thesaurus!  

           Anyways, I really need to get serious and write something that I can put up for critique.  I mean it takes courage to write but then to sit (silently) in a room while 20 people discuss what they thought was awesome and what they found to be BS (baloney and salami) takes a real solid backbone.  The main thing I loved about the format was that it was like being in a book discussion and in a writing seminar at the same time. I was reading really good writing (almost everyone in the group is published, excepted yours truly #pennedbutnotpublished.blogspot.com) and learning new writing techniques like new ways to hook my reader.

       So my next blog post will be my stab at the one syllable story prompt.  Until then....onward and upward!

( And I'm always looking for guest writers, so shoot me whatever you are working on if you get a chance:)
       
         

Guest Blogger: Hey Little Harbor Writer

The following post is by one of my former students. I am continually inspired by her drive, vivacity and hopeful spirit.  I am honored to post her work here.  

         

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Getting off my flight from Seattle and going straight home from the airport was exciting. I did not see my bed for a good week and missed it so much! My dad opened the front door and I instantly saw a yellow package. I had forgotten I signed up for the Writer's Workshop Program  held in UMass Boston and did not expect for the paperwork to come so soon.  I took my pen and started filling in my information needed but eventually got yelled at by my mom for my sloppy handwriting. July 6th the program started and that’s when everything in my life changed… well in my writing life, that is. 

I finally sat in a classroom where everyone loved to write and all had an equal amount, if anything, more talent than me in writing. I was with “my people.”  The people I had been searching for. The ones who prefer ink time over screen time. For four weeks, I spent four hours a day four days a week improving my writing skills.  I worked on script writing, creative writing, article writing, and all the other fun types of writing. No piece of work was ever neglected, anything written was always admired and was always encouraged to be continued. We named ourselves the Harbor Writers (we had a view of the harbor from our classroom and would turn to the windows when we needed inspiration for our writing)

Free writes took place for twenty minutes every afternoon and discussions followed right after where the groups divided by high school and middle school were allowed to share their thoughts and wonderful writing. 

We were then given an hour for lunch where many memories were created and friendships became more developed. Laughs and jokes always arose from our two tables and an hour never felt like enough.  

After lunch, we were given some focused writing assignment where a certain project was given and students had to create a piece of writing using the project outline. On the nice summer days where it wasn't too humid, we did these assignments in the courtyard outside of the classroom giving us a chance to feel the fresh air and feel blessed for our surroundings.

When the program approached an end, the class put together three of their most cherished writings for our anthology. To top off our amazing and improved writing skills, the class invited family members, teachers, and any other person making a big involvement in their writing careers to a reading. Each student was allowed to read one out of their three pieces of writing to the audience of supporters. This program overall allowed me to improve in my writing, speaking, AND expanded my heart for all the people I met in this program. I did not know what kind of experience I would be sailing into but I docked my boat and stayed for the experience. The Harbor Writers have found a special home in my heart and I will never forget any of those four wonderful weeks!

This is the piece I chose to perform for the audience… ENJOY!

Hey Little Fighter 

Hey little fighter 

Soon things will get brighter

For you are not the size you wear 

or the color of your hair

You are not the color of your skin 

or anything bad said about you 

You are the words you speak 

You are the love in your heart 

You are the smile that brightens each day 

You are beautiful 

So keep your head up 

You are made up of so much beauty 

Please do not forget 

‘For the things that you think define you 

Means absolutely nothing at all 

Visual Chronicles

I stumbled upon a copy of Visual Chronicles I bought at The Paper Source when I was newly married, full of ambitious creativity for my journals and in possession of $20 to spend.  These days none of those phrases would very accurately describe me and yet I found myself enjoying the book deeply despite the cynicism that tends to come with crow’s feet and varicose veins.  

Visual Chronicles 

I still believe that every day is a journey and that every story is worth telling because everything happens for a reason.  I still want to learn how to tell those stories well, whether through writing, speaking, art, music. Communication will always be my absolutely favorite subject to teach.  Because to communicate well brings joy, laughter, tears, healing, strength and so much more.  People change the world by the way they communicate.

To express our experiences in this world we have to pay attention to them.

Right that is first and foremost.  Pay attention to your life, it’s happening right now, don’t miss it.  (I’m preaching to myself here)

Attention: Today I noticed my refrigerator door.  we do not have nearly enough magnets to hold up the pictures, drawings, notes and cards we have up there.  But It says so much about our lives right now.  every photograph is one I treasure, every word is one that brings me hope throughout the day.  

My favorite thing at the end of a long day is to sit down and journal because it lets me mull over all of the strange things I saw, heard, did and felt today.  By replaying it and finding words for it all I appreciate it in a new light.  So, if I’m making a list (my go to way of journaling) the second thing for me to remember is to appreciate the day.

Appreciation: Instead of kid friendly cursing everytime I slammed the “blasted, dogone door.”  I began to think about this phase of life, with small children who love to finger paint, and friends and family who send Christmas cards.  I am blessed by every piece of     our lives that hangs on that door.  

And because my obsessive compulsive tendencies demand that something just isn’t finished until it is a triad.  My third observation about journaling and living and creativity is that I find great satisfaction in embellishing things.  Not changing their veracity or constitution but simply clarifying the beauty that can be muddied by this imperfect world we live in. This is why I think arts (and crafts) are good for your soul. 

Adorn:  (1. to make more pleasing, attractive, impressive, etc.; enhance: Piety adorned Abigail's character. 2. to increase the beauty, distinction, etc, of)   SO I took a picture of this door.  And gussied it up with Instagram, and wrote about it with some of the fanciest words I could find.  And you know what.  I feel good.  I feel good about my day, I feel good about my house and I feel so much love for my kids and their smudgy finger prints, the people on those Christmas cards, even the lady who lived her before us and stole the previous refrigerator in the night so we had to buy this new one... but that’s a story for another time.  

My Life in 100 Words

I have always, always aspired to be in Reader's Digest.  I'd love to have even a letter to the editor published, let alone one of my anecdotes I so often submitted to them as a middle and high school writer.  I gave up on it for a while but recently I came upon a contest that was just too good to pass up. 

Reader's Digest - 100-Word True Story Contest
Write a story about your life in 100 words or less and you could win $5,000 and publication or other prizes in Reader's Digest's 100-Word True Story Contest. 
Entry Frequency: Unlimited entry per person 
End Date: March 14, 2014 at 11:59 p.m. ET 
Eligibility: USA, 18+

Here is what I submitted:

Crouched low and breathing hard, he peered around the corner just in time to detect the shadow that leapt toward him.  He wielded his sais expertly to deflect the onslaught.  He tucked and rolled.  As he rose he felt a searing pain pierce his abdomen.  He clutched his stomach and ran, shaking off armor and weaponry.  It was too late.  A pool was forming at his feet.  He called desperately, “Help! Mom, I so sad... I peed my Ninja pants.”  Hot tears burned his three year old eyes.  I found him struggling out of his soiled clothes, humiliated by defeat.

My Favorite Ninja

The Mount of Freedom by Anonymous

Today's guest blogger is one of the most extraordinary students I have ever had.  She has been writing a short story every single week of this year.  That is 46 stories to date!!!  I love this piece. I love the tone and emotion.  I love the authenticity and freedom she conveys. I am so excited to share it with you:

WeHeartIt.com

I was 1000 meters off the ground feeling like I could touch the sky. I could feel the crisp fall air and soft winds brush across my hot face. The blue skies above me and a gray rock underneath. I saw miles and miles of green with birds flying sky high towards the horizon. I took a breathe of the fresh air and felt freedom... Like a bird in the sky. No limits what so ever!

It wasn't the first time I climbed up Mount Monadnock. I actually went for my 10th birthday with my family. It was a surprise gift, adventure from my aunt and all I could remember was feeling free. I was going through a somewhat tough week. I just wanted to run away... and that's exactly what I did. I told my aunt who was in town, I wanted to take a hike up Mount Monadnock again. 

Without any questions or second thoughts, we were off on the road. We got a hotel room and stayed there for the night. By the time we got there, it would have been to late to be hiking. Early the next morning, my aunt and I got up. We gathered our stuff and got ready for the hike, I was so eager to get back up to the top of the mountain. I just wanted to relax while I had my time up there. No one was really on the trail to the top of the mountain that morning so it was very quiet. Quiet enough for me to take in the nature surrounding me as well as to think on my way up. I plugged in my headphones to my iPod and I was off. There wasn't much talking between my aunt and me until the middle of the hike... My iPod died so I had to talk to my aunt. We talked about college and the future which got me upset because even when I was trying to escape the world/reality, annoying life conversations came up.

WeHeartIt.com

I was getting hot from climbing but the occasional winds made the climb worth it. The winds gave me another reason to get to the top. A couple hours later, we got there. I couldn't believe my eyes! I saw everything! At that moment, I was looking down at the world! I saw the trees from the top and no longer from the bottom! I was as high as the birds! I felt some weight lift off of me while I was at the top. No one was telling me what to do or what to think! I was finally happy! It was very breezy and every breeze made me feel more and more relaxed. Everything felt possible to me then. I took a seat at the edge of the rock and thought. Not about anything in particular, I just thought. I thought about the feeling of being so high up where I felt like the queen of the world. Everything was in my power and I could do whatever makes me happy! Feeling free from the world was amazing. No one was judging me on my messy hair and red face. No one was telling me to be a bigger person or to go away! For that hour I was at the top, I ran away. If I could, I would stay up there, on top, in a world of my own by myself smiling. There is nothing in this world that compares to being free!

Back in Action

Yes, well I am back, 2 kids later and more determined than ever to write, just write and see what happens.  That may be the most valuable lesson that I have learned in the past 3 years... my two year old says it best,

 “Mom, let’s just see what happens...let’s do that plan.”  

“I like that plan” I tell him, and I do.  I like the freedom I’ve discovered of going with the flow.  Granted it is not a naked freedom, lying on my back in dappled sun going with the mellow flow.  For me, it is more of a white water rapids ride, where I am strapped with helmet, “absolute adult compliance” life preserver, and grippy gloves to disguise my white knuckles clutching my paddle as I get pulled into the ferocious flow.  

So, here is my plan.  I am taking a year off teaching to stay at home with my two kids. This in and of itself is scary, on so many levels, I think each of those levels may need a post or two to tease out, so I’ll just skip ahead scary decision number 2: to submit something to a competition of publication every single month.  I’ll post the first paragraph of my current work in progress here for feedback, because Lord knows, I will need it. 

 My first attempt was with Glimmer Train, a publication I very much like and recommend.  I felt that the category “New Writer’s Short Stories” sounded about right.  Especially because this publication only accepts work from yet unpublished writers.  Even better, the editors are two sisters.  Just the thought of my two sisters makes me want to be part of this venture.  My first plan was to distill my entire life saga into 5,000 words.  I only had 2 weeks and soon found this might be biting off more than I could chew.  So, I started small.  I found an old piece, one that I had written as an undergraduate and gotten a generous A- on.  I worked on it, made it presentable.  

When I had the opportunity for 250 words of explanation or cover letter I was tempted to write, “I know this isn’t good...but this is something I have to do...bear with me. I believe I’ll get better.”  I was panic stricken at the thought of actually submitting it but I did it.  I paid $15 and put some work (read: my tender heart and soul) out there to be evaluated by strangers.   I will post the first paragraph tomorrow for feedback and thoughts. I just wanted to let you know what I was up to and that I am back.  

Time

A friend left a message for me the other day and prefaced it with, “I know we are both so busy right now.” Then she paused and added, “and when are we not?!” Which got me to thinking, how did we get stuck in the perpetual state of scrambling for time, feeling like there is never enough?

We have a neighbor from Algeria, he always jokes that Americans are rich with money but poor with time and Algerians are just the opposite. What an insightful and challenging statement.

I think half the struggle with time is our frantic fear that there is never enough. We try to squeeze activities out of every second and yet are unconscious of the distractions which suck away our time from our true passions and creative pursuits.

Barbara DeMarco- Barrett in her book, Pen on Fire, explains how we trick ourselves into thinking we need more time than we do to be creative. We can only use the time we have, but we have to be intentional about how we spend it or we fritter it away.

So, I am trying to be intentional this week with my time, to sit down and write, even if it’s only for 15 minutes, to spend time with people rather than with projects. I am determined to fight the lie that there is never enough time and believe instead that there is just enough.

How do you decide what is worthy of your time? So how are you spending your time this week?

Creating in Community

“Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down, 

his friend can help him up. 

But pity the man who falls 

and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. 

But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered, 

two can defend themselves. 

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”
-The Bible (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12)

What a success your ideas on motivation were. I got more done this week on my screenplay than I have in months! Those thoughts, in conjunction with a beautiful letter from a dear friend, got me thinking about creativity and how it flourishes in community.

I find it interesting that although I often seek solitude in which to write, I would have little to write about without those who surround me, both strangers and friends. Not only are others the source of my material but they are what make my dreams so brilliant. Shared excitement over a goal or vision is dynamic. A simple plan when encouraged by another’s enthusiasm can become a vital direction in a creative journey. It just takes the courage to share those dreams and plans.

I think everyone, especially every writer, artist, singer, gardener, creator(and who is not one of those things?), feels this tension between the unique experience that is their life and their desire to share who they are with others. I am not saying that it is not terrifying to allow another to gain a glimpse of your true self. I am simply saying that it is often where the most powerful and creative material springs from.

I encourage you to take just a moment to soak in gratitude for all those who have brought creativity into your life. For me, they have come in every shape and size. We have shared our stories: face to face, via phone, over email and, most recently, on our blogs. Where would I be without them? Do you share your dreams and aspirations? I hope you will share some this week.

Love

I think one of the first things that amazed me about my husband (though there were many) was his validation of my writing. He liked to read my poetry, my childhood stories, my random thoughts while journaling, he loved to read everything I wrote and I was amazed. Now, I'm sure that this seems like I fell victim to the first flatterer to compliment my work. But this is certainly not the case. The part of this story that reveals the depth of our love is that I showed him my writing at all.
I began writing everyday in elementary school. I wrote in a locked diary, I wrote letters, notes- I even roped my sisters into writing a family newspaper with me. I wrote like my pen was on fire. I wrote like I had to get out onto paper everything that was in my head. And that was enough. I just wanted it on paper. I didn't care if anyone ever saw it or liked it. And for the most part I did not show anyone what I wrote. At least not until it was polished or perfect, usually I had someone read it only because it had to be submitted for a grade. My writing was mine and mine alone. It was my private world to escape to when this life seemed unbearable, unbelievable or amazing. I escaped there to sort things out, to think them through with myself.
But something about my husband made me trust him. I remember when he read the first poem I wrote for him. He paused for a long moment, looked up and told me, “You are a great writer.”
He reminded me that you cannot get any better unless you show others your work. You cannot write in a vacuum. He gave me confidence and I doubt that I ever would have begun writing seriously if not for him. He taught me to trust my writing instincts and not worry about being perfect but just about being me. How can I express my gratitude for his encouragement and love?
How about you? Do you have others you can count on to appreciate your work? I would love to hear about your critics, fans and inspirations.

When

I thought for a very, very long time that I could control when things happened. I understood the concept of causation and simply imagined myself to be the only catalyst needed to start my plans in motion. I didn’t fail because it never crossed my mind as a possibility.

I cruised along under this determined and diligent narcissism until I was about 14 when I entered the Reader’s Digest writing contest. It was a humor contest, asking for amusing stories from reader’s daily lives.

Even at that age, I knew that humor was one of the most challenging endeavors for a writer. But, I was determined and that meant I must succeed. Fortunately, I did have plenty of fodder for the funny piece. I chose to write about a recent baking fiasco, when I attempted to bake “No Fail Fudge.” (I’m sure that you can already foresee the irony of the piece.)

I had the kitchen to myself and I was eager to begin my culinary career. I got the recipe for No Fail Fudge from the back of a fluff jar. Looking back, this should have been the first clue that I was not on the path to sweet success. Fluff is certainly not the foremost ingredient of sublime pastries.

The real problems began when I tried to substitute ingredients. The recipe called for evaporated milk. I had never even heard of evaporated milk. Using the power of deduction I figured that the liquid has been evaporated out of the milk making it pretty much the same thing as powered milk.

It is not at all the same thing. A truth which I came to realize minutes later when faced with a burnt pan, a kitchen full of smoke and a full blown failure.

Sadly, not only my fudge was a failure but also my attempt in narrating it humorously. I was hit with my first rejection letter.

Since then I have written several more dismal pieces of writing. My frustration came in the fact that the harder I tried to make something good and worthwhile the worse it turned out.

Success does not submit to our time table.

I often wonder when I will believe that I am a writer? Perhaps when I surrender my futile attempts to bridle success. Perhaps when I stop trying so hard and start enjoying the journey.

Who

As promised I am getting back to the basics by asking the 5 Ws Who, What, When, Where and Why? Today, I tackle...

WHO...

I started out asking the question Who? in a very pragmatic way. I realized that I needed to figure out: Who will be interested in reading (or even better-buying) my writing? I know absolutely nothing about the business end of anything, especially not writing. I never knew (and perhaps still don’t) the difference between an agent, an editor and a publisher. I have always been fuzzy on copyright laws and intellectual property. That whole mess seemed quite overwhelming and I closed my eyes to it, hoping that someday I’d be magically discovered as a writing prodigy and simply fall into a book contract.

I realize now that this was lazy, timid and foolish. Marketing does not necessarily sully the art of writing. Business can sharpen and hone writing. It can be a way to polish a diamond in the rough. Writing for myself is certainly where it starts but it does not have to be where it ends. There may be others who care about what I do and what a challenge to find them and to show them my work! (for a wonderful blog on this, see Rachelle Gardner’s Rants and Ramblings http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/)

There are other, perhaps deeper, Who questions to be answered as well. For example: Who are my characters? and Who am I as a writer?

It took me two or three months to really develop my characters and I find every time I write they are still developing. It was very helpful to me to try and visualize my characters and get to know them. I spent hours jotting down notes about their appearance, their motivation, their preferences, their fears, their mannerisms, their social status, their personal problems, even their vocal quality. At times it felt like a waste to wade so deeply into aspects of their lives which may only make a camio appearance in my work. Still, I kept at it and learned some valuable lessons. Now, I often return to these notes when I feel I am getting off track.

Unavoidably, I began to ask myself these same questions and I came to a fascinating conclusion. An author knows a character better than the character knows itself. And in life, the Creator knows me much better than I know myself. It seems odd that I could possibly still be learning about myself, but I change and develop like any good character. My likes and dislikes shift with time and my appearance morphs as well. I could never have seen who I am today and I cannot predict how that will change tomorrow. But through it all, I want to be integrated, to have all the pieces of my life woven together until I am a women of true integrity.

What are your Who questions and how do you answer them?

Back to the Basics

My husband made a keen observation during our last discussion about writing. “Haven’t you got a bit off track?” he asked me. I knew immediately what he meant. I had noticed it myself but was hoping I could “get away with it."

I set up Penned but not Published in order to be more serious about writing, in order to devote more time to writing. I wanted to post my progress weekly and thus be held accountable as a writer.

Wonderful things have come about since I started blogging:

1.I have found deep and lasting encouragement from other writers.

2. I have discovered words of great wisdom in many blogs I now follow.

And perhaps most important of all..

3. I have developed as a writer. I have gained confidence and insight. My writing voice has become clearer and stronger. I write far more since starting this blog than I ever did before.

However, amidst all of these positives there lies hidden a negative.

The problem is that I have also used blogging to procrastinate. I have spent untold hours reading other blogs and surfing around the worldwide web. Many weeks, I have posted about writing on my blog but have not really written all week. This feels hypocritical. Too much time passes without any progress on my screenplay, stories or poems.

There is no easy way to remedy this. I cannot pull time or motivation out of thin air. But as I contemplated the problem, I came up with a fairly straightforward solution. I would use the methods I teach my students. I would ask myself questions. The basics: Who, What, When, Where and Why:

Who would be interested in publishing my work?

What am I most eager to complete and have published?

When could I reasonable complete my WIP?

Where do I see myself a year from now?

Why do I want to be published? (because being published doesn’t make you a “real” writer.)

So, I have devoted some time to seriously considering these questions. I have set aside my next 3 or 4 posts to answering these questions.

I would love to hear your answers as well. They might be simple questions but the answers can be quite profound. Please share what you have gained from blogging, distractions you have had to overcome or any questions that have guided your work.

Writing is a Gift

I don’t mean to say that the ability to write is a gift to the writer. Although, that too is often true. No, I mean that the act of writing is parallel to the act of giving. It is a joyful emptying of oneself.

Here are a few things I have discovered about writing and giving this holiday season:

1. Giving takes time. Procrastination leads only to regret. I think every writer and gift giver realizes the tricks of time. You may find perfection the first time around the mall or the fiftieth. You may experience a moment of insight into just what that person would want or you might slog through various choices dissatisfied with them all until the very end. Whatever the case you’ve got to get to it and stick with it. Allow yourself enough time...Don’t rush...Enjoy the process.
2. Giving requires bold decision making. You are emptying your pockets and your heart, stop second guessing whether the gesture will be appreciated. As my husband oft quotes, “Give what you have. To someone it may be better than you dare to think.” -Longfellow
3. Giving is better than receiving. Pouring out your resources, time, love and energy is worth all of the sacrifice. It blesses both you and those who receive your gift.

So, I challenge you to give someone the gift of your writing this holiday season. Be bold, they will love it and you will be blessed as well.

Winter White

When I teach symbolism to my students I always use the classic examples. Sunshine often represents hope. Water means cleansing. White stands for purity. I taught the lesson on symbolism last week to my night class and I began to think about how highly cultural and personal symbolism can be.

Then, last night it snowed. The first snow of the winter. Usually this event represents the hope of school closings, days spent at home in my pajamas, or outdoor adventures with my husband. But this year, the white felt like a heavy blanket, covering me with the weight of things not yet accomplished and the increasing difficulty of accomplishing them in the oncoming bleak weather.

As I contemplated these feelings and my lesson on symbolism I found that winter white is a good symbol for who I have been (and not, I think, for who I would like to become).

I was born in the cold. I grew up clearing the ice to skate, stacking the wood for warmth, bundling myself up before bed. The white of winter reminds me of my own cold heart, my icy independence, my perfectionism like snow killing the grass below.

The winter white is blank, it causes blindness, it shimmers and cracks. I, too, feel blank. I attempt to keep my personality that way in order to complement the expectations of others, never to clash. This emotional whiteout has blinded me to who I am, who I was created to be. I may shimmer with talent and promise but I crack upon closer inspection.

My life is like winter white, and I am waiting for the warmth of Christmas, of Christ, my Messiah to arrive.

What are some symbols that run through your writing? Or perhaps more importantly, through your life?

Crushing, Shaving, Breaking, Beating, Cutting, Whipping and Baking

Baking has the illusion of being a cozy pastime. There is nothing so welcoming, in my mind, as walking into a house full of freshly baked goods. Therefore, the false connotation is one of comfort and ease. But as I was baking cookies today, I stopped to consider the directions I was following so blithely. They are, in truth, somewhat violent:

Crush the cereal until it is "roughly ground."

Shave the chocolate before mixing.

Break the eggs and add to the bowl.

Beat until creamy.

Cut in the butter.

Whip at highest speed for 2 minutes.

Bake until tops are slightly browned.

The ingredients must go through trials and tribulation before their full flavor and potential are realized. I tried to sit and think of how this truth applied to living and writing well, so that my flavor might be discovered. I came up with the following instructions:

Crush up all your expectations and previous assumptions. You may need to change the texture of your work before its essence can be used.

Shave off all unnecessary words and ideas. Thick chunks of musings will not be accessible to readers.

Break your shell of pride and add something personal, something real and alive.

Beat out any lies, fears and apathy that will affect the work until everything flows smoothly.

Cut in qualities you admire in other writers. This adds the richness that would otherwise be lacking.

Whip up all the support, encouragement, and inspiration you need. Motivation is crucial in getting a work to hold together from start to finish.

Bake your work, submit it to high temperatures where it will be refined and melted. Its consistency may change but the taste will only improve.

The result should be delicious.

Fear

Writers must be brave. We must. Polls generally claim that people’s main fears are rejection and public speaking. Writers are required to face the former of the two.

Rejection is something I dread. I have yet to find a writer who does not harbor the secret notion that there may be an awful moment in the lives when they are exposed as a fraud, a fool or a fiend. And what is perhaps most disturbing is that this is not an irrational fear.

It is very likely, in fact, it is highly probably that if you or I submit a piece of writing to be published it will be rejected. Even if we strike gold as a writer and publish we risk facing a scathing review.

So I wonder how professional writers do it. How do they overcome the fear?

This is crucial information for fear hinders my writing more than anything else. I know there will be a day that I have to face rejection, not just criticism or constructive feedback but wholesale rejection. That scares me.

Worst of all, I suspect that I sometimes sabotage my own chances of success just so I won’t have to face such a mortifying day. I do not want to be a coward. Here are some of my musings on overcoming my fears:

1. I must face the good and the bad of who I am as a writer. I cannot live in a delusional world that claims everything I do and write is good. It is not. Neither can I hinder myself with negative self-talk and self-fulfilling prophesies of doom.
2. I must continue to write in the face of the worst anxiety and fear. I must grit my teeth and remind myself that I can do this. This is the time I usually seek out those words of comfort and truth that bring such life to my heart. The blogging community has totally transformed this aspect of my writing.
3. I must not give to much credence to excessive praise or excessive criticism, gleaning what is helpful and leaving the rest. My value does not lie in the estimation of others and for that I am grateful.

So lets do something brave this week, let’s write! And please let me know: How do you deal with fear? How do you help others to deal with it?

Wholeness

Someone I respect deeply once said that wholeness is far more important than balance. Wholeness indicates a peace and satisfaction that few are familiar with; whereas balance can feel fragmented and similar to a juggling act.

I have been thinking lately that I need to find a balance between writing for myself and writing to be published. However, that quotation emerged from my memory today and struck me with new force.

It is not that I need to find balance in my writing. On the contrary, my writing must be irresistibly whole. When you read confident, healthy, and hearty writing, are you not drawn to it? Even if on the surface it may not be your style, isn’t it attractive?

That is the sort of writing I want to create.

There is an archetype of writers, forged in the likeness of Hemingway, that insists creative minds must be tormented and unsatisfied. I believed this for a long time and used it to avoid confronting my own battle against depression. However, I now see that becoming healthy is my best bet for becoming a better writer.

It takes courage to stop juggling all of the worries in our lives and seek wholeness. Still, it is undoubtedly a quest that is worth each and every challenge.

This week, think about how your emotional state impacts your writing. I would love to hear what you discover (or perhaps what you already knew.)

Momentum

I was wondering today if perhaps “Not Penned Nor Published” would be a better name for this blog. It was a musing brought on by my admission to myself that after 5 weeks, I really thought that I would be further.

I thought I would be able to quantify my progress in pages, completions, or submissions. But, I cannot. The thing I have realized is how much I have to learn and how much I have to write. I cannot continue my pattern of half-finished character sketches and various scenes scribbled in my notebook or hastily typed out. This is going to take time.

I like the rush of starting a project and the satisfaction of meeting a goal but I dread the grind in between. And you can sense that dread in my writing. The tone is strained, the ideas trail off and the vivacity fades.

So, I have been asking myself, “How do I get my creative juices going and keep momentum on a WIP?” I found the following regime to be helpful. It is very obvious and perhaps redundant but it has stretched me personally:

First of all, I need to set a time. A daily routine gets my whole body in gear. I am still in midst of this step, trying out different times and locations. I am a morning person but teaching starts early and so I usually write before I go to bed at night.

Next, I read a few blogs. I stress the words, “a few.” And I don’t read the feel good blogs, the encouraging blogs or the inspirational blogs. I save those for weekend and really bad days. No, I read the kick in the pants, get moving blogs that remind me that I have writing to do and I better get to it.

Then, I read over what I last wrote, try to get into that mindset. I make some changes, spice up any sections that began to lag, check any facts I think may need reexamining.

Finally, I write. I write for at least 45 minutes. I try for an hour. I try to get at least two good pages a day. Sometimes, it flows and I do much more. Some days, it is sheer determination and the results are sub-par. But either way, I write.

As an addendum: when I am done writing, I jot a few notes of where I think things should go next.

Then, I turn off my computer with a sigh. I allow what I have written and what I want to write to marinate in my mind until next time.

Gimmicks

Luckily, the world of writing is much more of a community than many fields of work. However, there is still an aspect of cut-throat competition and get rich quick schemes that lingers around the profession. The more I have been looking into publishing, the more I see that one must be discerning as a writer.

Of course, we all know we must laboriously consider each word we choose and each thought we construct. I mean discerning when it comes to gimmicks and motivation. There are a shocking number of empty promises floating about. It is far too easy to waste time chasing after “10 Days to Success” or “Fool-proof Writing” or whatever other shortcuts are being marketed to aspiring writers. I am a sucker for books on writing, blogs on writing, writing tips and “inspiration” in any form. Unfortunately, I never seem to buckle down to the actual writing. I fill myself up with positive emotions and a plethora of ideas and then have no time or energy to craft a piece from all of that. It is frustrating and discouraging.

Yet, there is some sense in which a gimmick can serve as genuine motivation. NaNoWriMo* seems to be an example of this. This competition is a month long novel writing challenge. It welcomes hype without making hallow promises. It spurs writer’s on with short term goals. And it seems to be fairly effective. I would love to produce a high volume of work and be able to cull through it later. Still, I am reluctant to engage in a venture that may only produce mediocre work at lightening speed.

What are your thoughts on motivation, competitions and writing gimmicks?

*http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/whatisnano