Visit Writing Time to "cyber audit" a class called "Courage and Craft: Writing Your Life Into Story." Author, teacher, and blogger, Barbara Abercrombie teaches this course at the UCLA Extension Writers Program, and she's sharing some of her class lectures and writing exercises with those of us who read her blog. The class is based on her newly published book by the same title, and promises to offer some exciting suggestions and inspiration. So get yourself a new spiral notebook and a pen, and head over to class. Don't be late!
Write On Wednesday-Coming Alive
Don't ask yourself what the world needs.
Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do it.
Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
~Harold Thurman Whitman
Each time I run across these words, I feel an electric shock run down my spine.
They remind me that the world, myself included sometimes, is filled with people going through the motions of their days, finding no joy, no deep indwelling sense of satisfaction or accomplishment, nothing that creates the feeling of life abundantly lived. So these words prod and poke me, nudge me to search for what creates the spark of life in my soul.
They confronted me this morning when I opened my brand new copy of Foolsgold, by Susan G. Woolridge (author of Poemcrazy). Outside my window, a cloudy, drizzly September day waits for me. Another day in my office beckons, a day of paper shuffling and organizing, a day of sifting through piles of medical records and information. Nothing about the prospect of this day makes me come alive.
But if I am honest, I recognize that I am luckier than most~I've achieved half the battle to follow that credo. I, at least, have found the things that make me come alive.
Certainly, writing is one of them.
Foolsgold promises to help me "find the artist within by cultivating a creative lifestyle that will not only expand and inspire you, but may also ground and heal you." A "creative lifestyle" is what interests me here. In the past months, as I've come to realize how much writing means to me, I've allowed it to play a bigger role in my inner life. Yet I keep it tucked in the cupboard of my lifestyle, afraid to let it to play in the daylight hours, only taking it out when I've completed all the other, less livening activities. I think in order to start living that "fully alive" life the world needs, I must allow creativity to permeate my entire lifestyle, not just those few "off hours" when the regular work is done.
What does that mean in practical terms? I'm not sure. Perhaps Foolsgold will provide some answers, as I read it with that thought in mind.
It will be a journey, this "coming alive" process.
I'll keep you posted.
How about you? Have you found the things that make you come alive? Are you doing them?
Write on Wednesday-Dream Works
Last night in my dreams, a writing angel haunted me. Really. In a strange, exciting, miraculous sort of way, I was awakened at 4:30 am with a virtual cacophony of sentences erupting in my head. Paragraphs in fact, spinning themselves out as if my mind were a blank computer screen and someone else was doing the typing.
"Wait," I shouted at myself. "Slow down - I'll never remember all this!" And it was cold last night, I was cold, I hadn't remembered to get my blanket out of the storage box in the basement. I was huddled in bed, curled into in fetal position, surrounded by small dogs who were also cold. I was cursing myself because, of all the dozens of notebooks and pens in this house, there wasn't one of them in my bedroom this morning at 4:30 a.m. And the words, the sentences, some very good sentences, just kept pouring into my semi-conscious head.
Here's the back story...I've been thinking about NaNoWriMo, you know the November madness where some of us who are crazy enough to submit ourselves to 30 days of insane writing torture, sign on to complete a 50,000 word novel during the four weeks of November. So, I've been thinking about two ideas - actually, I've had these ideas in my mind since last November. One of them is, I think, a really good idea for a novel. But I'm not kidding myself - it's not an easy idea. It would really require lots of research even to do a half-assed sort of job. And it's such a good idea (did I say that already?) that I don't want to waste it by not being ready for it. You know what I mean?
But that writing dream, well, it was all about this novel. It was just ideas on top of ideas, flooding into my brain at 4:30 in the morning. It was sentences, and names, and dialogue even. I think the genesis for this visitation arose from the post I read yesterday in Not For Robots, Laini Taylors blog about writing. Here's what she wrote in her first post:
"You want to write a novel. You have a seed. Perhaps you have a character name, an idea of the setting, and a vague sense of what it’s “about.” A good place to start “brainstorming” is just by freewriting everything you know about your idea so far. Don’t worry at all about the “writing” at this phase, about your prose or sentence structure or having the perfect name for your character. Doesn’t matter. This is just about getting ideas out. Every possible idea, even ones that flitter through your head and you’re pretty sure you won’t use. Go ahead and write them down and give them an opportunity to explain themselves. If it came to mind, there’s a chance there’s something in it you can use. At this stage, do not discriminate. Think of it like the auditions for American Idol. You have to listen to the terrible singers -- you have to listen to all the singers -- to ferret out the tiny handful of good ones."
Well, I wrestled with this dream weaver until it was time to get up - finally I managed to drag my cold and rusty bones out of bed, find the notebook I've already started for this book, and try to capture some of those crazy words and ideas.
I went to the library, and started poking around with some background research. But there is just so much I need to know for this book. Laini knew I'd make that discovery too. "As you’re writing down everything you know about the story, you’ll start to see how much you don’t know," she wrote. I sure did, and there's plenty. Frankly, I'm scared.
I think it's too big for me.
Even in my wildest dreams. How about you? Have you ever been visited by a writing angel? Have you had a writing (or other creative) project you really wanted to do, but were afraid of?
Write on Wednesday-Coming Out of the Writer's Closet
None of my friends know I do it. My husband knows, but basically ignores it, considering it another amusing little project that takes up time and doesn't make any money. My son probably understands it better than most, and does it himself on occasion. What is this deep dark secret I'm harboring? Writing, of course. "You know the last thing in the world people want to hear from you," writes Carolyn See in Making a Literary Life, "the very last thing they're interested in? The fact that you have always wanted to write, that you cherish dreams of being a writer, that you wrote something and got rejected once, that you believe you have it in you - if only the people around you would give you a chance - to write a very credible, if not great, American novel." Every so often, I think about telling one of my really good friends that I write. Perhaps my friend Pat, who is all about "living your dreams," no matter what age you are. After all, she's nudged me out of my musical shell, taught me to step outside my safe box and take risk now and then. Surely she, of all people, wouldn't think I was silly, or worse yet, pathetic, for writing stories and poems, for hoarding private fantasies about publishing novels. Or my friend Millie, my "other mother" as I call her, who always props up my flagging confidence with genuine caring and pride, who simply grabs me by the hand and drags me into places I'm fearful of, assuring me with steadfast certainty that I can handle myself there. Wouldn't she pat me on the back with a hearty "good for you!" and say "I'm not the least bit surprised!" So why do I always cringe at the thought of admitting my secret aloud to these women, these "real world" friends? Why is it so easy for me to share my writing dreams with all of you, and not with the people who share my life on a daily basis? Part of it, I suppose, is fear of criticism, fear that they'll look at me, smile politely, and make some sort of "that's nice, dear," remark before continuing the conversation about next weeks rehearsal or last night's episode of "The Closer." That reaction would not only bruise my fragile writing hopes, but could actually damage our friendship. Perhaps keeping the writing secret is a way of protecting it. Hemingway said that talking about your work weakens it, diminishes the magic it develops as it gestates in your head. Carolyn See writes that "the wonderful thing about your inner life is that it's your inner life." All the while you're stuck in traffic, or sitting through boring meetings at work, or spending time with deadly dull relatives, you can think about this secret world of characters and ideas living in your mind. Still, I often feel a distinct urge to spill my secret. I'll have it planned out, waiting to announce when people ask "So, what have you been up to lately?" "Well," I'll offer, "I've been writing - stories, poems, even a novel." But when the moment comes, inevitably I back away. "Oh, the usual," I'll concede. "Work, some music stuff, taking care of the parents - you know, nothing new." Once again, I pull the writer's closet door tightly closed, hoarding my secret to myself for a while longer. So, how about you? Have you come out of the writer's closet to your friends and family?
Write on Wednesday-Detail Oriented
As I write this, a cool breeze from the fan overhead gently lifts my hair, the soft whirring of its blades a counterpoint to the clicking computer keyboard. One dog (Molly) lies stretched full length in the doorway, sleeping soundly, while the other (Magic) is perched on the bed gazing attentively out the window, awake and on the lookout for a squirrel, or his favorite neighbor from across the street. Dusk is falling, earlier now that summer is on the wane, and soon I'll need to switch on the desk lamp, but not yet...I can still just barely see the keyboard in the hazy blue glow from the monitor. A glass of white wine rests on a slate coaster beside me, beads of sweat forming around it as the chill liquid inside meets the warm air of the room. "Writing is about learning to pay attention and communicate what is going on," writes Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird. "In order to be a writer...you have to learn to be reverent."
Life is in the details, someone once said, and for the writer, learning to observe everyday details and make them important for the reader is vital to creating character, setting, and moving plot along. In my first paragraph, I was trying to give you a word picture of where I was (a bedroom/writing room), the weather (hot, as evidenced by the ceiling fan and the sweaty glass), the type of person I am (someone who writes, drinks wine, and loves dogs, because they lie on my bed!) But I was also trying to convey a sense of reverence for these homely details about my life and this room where I come to write.
"We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded," says Natalie Goldberg, in Writing Down the Bones. "This is how writers must think, how we must sit down with pen in hand. We were here; we are human beings; this is how we lived."
The writing I love to read is full of details - about people and places, some might call it minutiae, but for me the details are what make the story and the era come alive. I love to know what people were having for tea in Jane Austen's drawing room, how they dressed for the party in Scarlett O'Hara's American South, and in more contemporary work, the cars they were driving, the TV shows they were watching, all those kinds of everyday details that help me identify time, place, and character. And often I am surprised by the beauty evident in those seemingly ordinary moments.
"This is our goal as writers," Lamott continues, "to help others have this sense of wonder, of seeing things anew, things that can catch us off guard, that break into our small, bordered worlds. There is ecstasy in paying attention."
Since I've been writing, I have found myself more open to observing details in the world around me, everything from the new ochre colored paint on the walls in my favorite coffee shop to the glorious rosy sky in the morning sunrise. I'm find myself thinking about the people I encounter - the young man I see walking the street morning and evening, winter and summer, wondering about the restless energy that is so apparent in his nervous stride. What is his story?
"To be engrossed in something outside ourselves is a powerful antidote for the rational mind," Lamott concludes. Finding a sense of wonder in the details of the world around us, in the people before us, all the little things that make us who and what we are.
"This is what it is to be a writer," Goldberg tells us. "To be the carrier of details that make up history."