Writing After Life Kicks You in the Teeth

I always thought that writer's block wasn't a real thing. That you could just sit down and start writing, and eventually you would figure out what should happen next. I wrote for over seven years and hadn't ever experienced a block that I couldn't work free of in an hour. Free writing, brain maps, and character interviews are all useful for that sort of thing. I've even written ridiculously impossible scenes before and then edited them into coherency.

Then my life blew up.

It's not that I didn't have time to write. Everyone has time to write, if they make it a priority. (Or so I've been told.) But my life was falling apart, and I felt like I couldn't talk to anybody about it for over a year. And the emotional stress, or depression, or whatever you want to call it (neither of those terms seem quite right) whatever it was, it sucked the creativity out of me. I can't really explain it any other way. I had no desire to be creative or think about stories or even read. Which is kind of a big deal, for me. I didn't read a single book for a year.

Like I said, it's not that I didn't have the time. It's not that I didn't have ideas or something to be working on. (I've been in the middle of Lost Princesses for an embarrassingly long time.) I just didn't. Or couldn't. I'm not sure which.

During that time, I moved twice and took care of my kids, took a few college classes, and prepared to build my life back from the ground up. And I'm still in the middle of that process. But recently, I had a story idea.

Not just any idea. The first idea I've had in a very, very long time. The first inkling that I would ever be able to write again. (The guilt of not finishing my other books had been the only motivation I'd had during that time, and it wasn't enough motivation, obviously.)

I wrote down my idea, sketching out a short story from beginning to end. And I've been kinda excited about it.

And then today, I had an idea on six other related short stories that could become something very cool. Something I've never seen before in fiction. And I got so excited about it that I felt an almost panicky feeling. The feeling that I needed to write. Now.

So I did. I wrote a thousand words today.

I'm not sure what will happen with my writing. I don't know when the next book will come out. But what I can tell you is that I am writing. And it feels awesome.

Writing a Story is Like Learning to Cook

You know that moment, when you taste something amazing? Maybe you're at a restaurant, or it's one of your grandmother's famous recipes. When you finish eating, you look down at your empty plate and you think, "I have to eat this again."

There are ways to make this happen. You can keep coming to the restaurant, you can beg your grandma to make more, or maybe... just maybe... you can make it at home. 

When that thought enters your mind, you have to assess your time, your talent in the kitchen, and how difficult the recipe will be. Do you have the patience? Can you figure out the ingredients? Will you ever be able to make something that tastes this great?

When you have complete control over what goes into the dish, maybe your creative side goes a little crazy. "You know, it could be really good with fresh mint... Ooh! Or basil!"

But you need to be careful. Too much creativity can get in the way of what you're really trying to achieve: yummy culinary goodness.

Weaving a good story is like nailing the recipe that has haunted you ever since you tasted it.

Like cooking, writing a story can be dangerous if you don't balance knowledge and creativity. You don't want to wind up with cheesy-banana trout. You want your readers to get joy from your book. You want make a book that's magical, the way other authors have done for you.

But if it's not fun, you're probably doing it wrong. When I stress out about a book, or do so much research my brain hurts, it comes out in my story. The characters get boring. The tension falls flat like an under-cooked souffle.

I'm still fairly new at this writing thing. Cognitive psychologists tell us it takes ten years before a writer reaches excellence. I've been going strong for about 6 now. And like my cooking skills, my writing is inconsistent. Sometimes I write something that would make my readers turn green. So I go back, I chop out the rough parts of the story, rearrange some key elements, and beef-up the personality of my characters. I find the weak spots and figure out what I can add to balance the story or make it richer.

The beauty of writing is: the reader doesn't see every draft.

My early draft work is a pile of failed attempts. Eventually, I get something I think is publishable, but there's always work involved that isn't seen by the rest of the world.

No matter what you want to get good at, there's work that goes on behind the curtain.

But if it's something you really want, and if you put in enough effort (and patience and sacrifice), you can make something worthwhile.

AbsolutelyEvil: the voice that says: You Can't

As I get closer to finishing this draft of Roses and Mirrors, I start to hear that voice. You know the one. The voice that says, "You're going to fail." It's AbsolutelyEvil.

AbsolutelyEvil is picking at the back of my brain right now, telling me that there are so many mistakes in this draft. AE says I'll never catch all of them in the next pass.

Maybe I should freak out and stop what I'm doing RIGHT NOW and go back and make all the changes I can think of. Because I might forget to make those changes if I don't do it RIGHT NOW.

I'm leaving myself little notes while I write (AE says I'm not going to see them when the time comes to make those changes.) and I try not to worry about it until I'm ready to do the next draft, but (excuse my whining) it's hard. It's difficult to put something imperfect on the paper and move on.

But I must.

And AE can just deal with it.