Archive for the ‘Creative Process’ Category

Spare Time

Friday, January 25th, 2013
Kitchen shelf at my friend Hillary's house. She is so into china.

Kitchen shelf at my friend Hillary’s house. She is so into china figurines.

Susan’s recent prompt at writing group was “SPARE TIME”. So I wrote a list of my characters in the Mrs. Iptweet book and what I imagine are their favorite spare time activities. I think Mrs. Smithee writes letters to her relatives to be opened upon her death.

Now I share one of my very own personal Spare Time things: I love to take pictures of any oddball thing I see. Somehow noticing the quirkiness that happens during the course of an “ordinary” day – as if such a thing existed – reminds me there is no such thing as an ordinary day.

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“EVERYTHING IS COPY”

Wednesday, August 8th, 2012

Nora Ephron credited her mom for saying everything that happens to you or around you is writing fodder. This rhymes with ‘Write what you know’, one of fiction’s oldest adages, and one I used to think of in large terms, such as location. You write about the South, for example, only if you lived there or if you know it well.

The other day, I realized even the most mundane events can be copy. While juggling keys, purse and groceries, I stuck my hand into the flower container by the door to feel if it needed water. A wasp must have thought he’d never experienced anything so rude as this intrusive thumb poking at his back because he gave me what-for in the best way he knew how and then flew off, presumably in a huff.

Groceries, keys & purse dropped to the ground as I stared at the tiny, red zone of rebuke on my thumb, awed by how so much pain can spread so fast across the entire hand. And all the while thinking, ‘get to the hose, cool water should help, and isn’t soil supposed to soothe,’ one defiant thought à la Nora charged forward, ‘I’m going to use this!’

A few days later, while stumped trying to wrap up my latest picture book story: ‘Aunt Mordina Goes to the Beach’, I looked at my thumb and remembered. And now, not one, but two wasps are whizzing around that story book beach. Kinda makes the pain almost worth it.

Almost.

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Neil Gaiman – Inspiration

Monday, May 21st, 2012

 

Green Hair

Green Hair

http://bookriot.com/2012/05/18/neil-gaimans-commencement-address-at-the-university-of-the-arts/

I share this link from BookRiot.com  – for those of us who make art. It’s just a few minutes long, he has a sexy English accent, and you will be newly thrilled and committed to being the artist you are.

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Somatic Workshops for Women and Writers – Taos & Santa Fe

Wednesday, May 16th, 2012
Body-Mind = Somatic Education

Body-Mind = Somatic Education

This whole Somatics thing is really something.

First of all, it’s taken me weeks to get what Somatics means.

Briefly and in my own words it means: tapping in and accessing the wisdom, power and knowing of one’s BodyMindSpirit. Emphasis on BODY.

I really like this work for both health, peace of mind and creativity reasons. I attended a workshop in Taos, NM 2 weeks ago. Taos is just up the road from me, I am so glad to say.

In Taos, Robyn McCulloch is doing what she calls Women Generating Workshops. Powerful stuff! Fun and fascinating! The focus is women-only and generating one’s heart-directed vision.

In Santa Fe, writer, poet, coach Renee Gregorio is running group and individual Somatic Education for Writers sessions. http://www.reneegregorio.com. I’ve worked with both Renee and Robyn. I recommend them.

All I can say is wowee zowee. Tuning in to BodyMind is the new Black.

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Top Ten Word Lists from Merriam-Webster – yaaaay!

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

Our pals at Merriam-Webster  have compiled Top Ten Lists. I especially like the list of words for colors and oddball insults. Vocabulary-building made easy.

http://www.merriam-webster.com/top-ten-lists/top-10-rare-and-amusing-insults/mooncalf.html

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Leap of Faith

Wednesday, February 29th, 2012

There’s a book I’ve been working on for a long time.  I love this book, yet I struggle with it, particularly in that vast grey middle where the heavy lifting of plot gets done, where I can’t help but think of Douglas Adams’ pithy title The Long Dark Tea-time of the Soul. 

I’ve always known there was a part missing, something crucial.   I could never bring myself to send it out to make the rounds of agents and publishers, not seriously.  I put it in the metaphorical drawer for years, after working on it for years, only bringing it out again a few months ago.  For a time, I hummed along on the sheer joy of recommitment.  I would finish it this time, I’d let my unconscious work on it enough, I’d make the middle sing!

At least, that’s what I thought until I got there, after  a few happy weeks revising the first few chapters   Apparently my unconscious hadn’t figured it out yet.  My muse was giving me the silent treatment.  My other half-finished books began their siren call, work on me instead, bits of plot flotsam for each floating up to capture my imagination.  (The fact that I have all these unfinished books is another blog post.)

I sternly reminded myself that I’d made my usual over-dramatic pronouncement to the writers’ group that this was the book I had to finish before I could write anything else.  The fact that I had to be stern with myself was almost enough by itself to send me running back to my chick-littish LA mystery.  Writing is supposed to be fun, isn’t it?  I’m supposed to love writing!   And here I was, letting my day job get in the way of my writing again!

Maybe it was over-dramatic, but when I said I needed to finish this book, out loud, to a roomful of people I love and respect, I remembered I was saying what I believed, and the saying it out loud was an act of faith.  I do need to finish this book.  And that meant having faith I could shape the dull void in the middle that obscured what was on the other side, not only an ending I love but the rest of the middle.  Is that what I’ve been afraid of?  Is part of the block fearing that I might come up with something that will affect the rest of the book?

Could be.  I’ve always known that there’s a “darling” or two (or three or…) that might have to go.  But here’s the thing:  the last two prompts in group  (see Barbara Mayfields “First Video Writing Prompt” and stay tuned for Susan Rathjen’s upcoming post on her prompt about completely reversing a belief) have let in some light.  I have a brand new proto-scene.  The void is vanishing.  And joy of joys, this scene actually calls back into the manuscript one I’d liked but abandoned long ago (ahh, electronic storage devices) when it was more of a digression than a furthering of the plot.

Faith works.

 

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Momentum

Wednesday, February 22nd, 2012

We all know the advice about writing every day, that consistency is the best way to keep the momentum going. Oliver Stone said it best when asked what it took to write a script. Answer: “Ass meets chair.”

But what if you sit down one day and you just can’t do it? You are mired in your middle or you can’t get to the next plot point without sounding inauthentic. Or you simply don’t have time. These are the situations when our momentum is in danger of breaking.

Here’s a solution someone in my mom’s creative writing group shared: If you can’t/won’t write, sit anyway. Sit and do nothing. Chances are the rest will do you good. It might relax the knot in your scene. Or it might get you antsy to start scribbling.

And if you don’t have time? Take one minute. Everyone has one minute. Sit and do nothing. Nothing is space and creativity grows best where it has room. If someone asks what you are doing there looking idle, you can say, I’m working on my writing!

Calling a little corner of your day your writing time, whether you actually pick up a pen or not, means the structure is always in place for your writing to happen. Oliver Stone was right!

 

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Writers and Writing Process

Thursday, February 16th, 2012

I’m a bit obsessed with writers and writing process. Well, at least, I thought I was the only one until I went to my first writing conference. Now I know that writers in general, want to know about other writer’s process. We spend an unusual amount of time alone. We need to know what our peeps are doing so we feel normal.

When I meet a writer, I want to know everything. Here are some questions that come to mind. What time of day do you write? How long do you write at a time? Do you write before you get out of bed, or do you need coffee first? Do you have a daily routine, or how do you organize your day? Where do you write? Do you have an office that’s like a cave, or is it filled with light? What’s on your desk that you must have in order to write? Do you write privately, or in coffee shops? Do you write by hand or use a computer? What kind of pen do you use? (I want to say that last one is my favorite question, but they’re all my favorite question.) What weight is your paper? Do you feel guilty that you use so much paper or have you been able to let that one go? Do you have a ritual that gets you started? Do you light a candle, meditate, do a breathing exercise, or stretch?

In my twenties, I thought of writers as having crazy, un-brushable hair, sitting at manual typewriters in a sea of wadded-up papers, chain smoking, and drinking gin, straight. However, at the age I actually started writing, it was more about hand writing everything the first time around, drinking a decaf soy latte plus trying to remember to drink all the water I could possibly stand, and stretching every once-in-a-while. Where did those stereotypes come from?

To feed my obsession, please tell me about your writing process.

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Valentine’s Day

Saturday, February 11th, 2012

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is

limited. Imagination encircles the world.-Einstein

 

Perhaps we can encircle our writing today with the idea of love,

specifically, romance versus reality. A few quotes to

guide us:

I was nauseous and tingly all over. I was either in love or I 

had smallpox.-Woody Allen

Love is grand. Divorce is a hundred grand-Anonymous

The trouble with women is that they get all excited over 

nothing-and then marry him.-Cher

I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury.

-Groucho Marx.

 

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But

then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer,

not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love,or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hopeyou are getting this down.-Woody Allen

 

Prompt: Write a scene where your character explores romance v

romance vs reality. This can be love of a person, (romantic

or not) an idea, place, thing or situation. For example: we

may be so attached to what we think as love, we miss the

reality. Or vice-versa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Barbara’s Path to Authorhood, Part 2 – Improv Storytelling

Wednesday, February 1st, 2012
Writing prompts are everywhere.

Writing prompts are everywhere.

The house where the improvisational storytellers meet is built into the side of a mountain, eight slow minutes from the Santa Fe plaza, down a washboard dirt road.

At 3 p.m. on my first Wednesday, eight normal-looking, mature women showed up. Snacky food was set out. We each took a seat around the coffee table in the cozy, rustic living room. I was introduced. Welcomed with reserve. The process was explained to me and we began.

Here are the Rules and Guidelines for Improvisational Storytelling:

  1. The Designated Prompter reveals what she has brought as prompts for the day. (Photos, oddball toys, stones, rocks, sticks, seashells, the contents of a junk drawer, empty candy wrappers…)
  2. Everyone has 30 seconds to choose an object with which to jump into the abyss.
  3. The group splits into partners. Two by two, move through the house to find a quiet place and sit opposite each other.
  4. Set the oven timer for three minutes. It’s loud enough to be heard in every room.
  5. The first teller begins a tale inspired by some aspect of the prompt she chose. There is no “figuring it out”. Allow the first few words to fall out of your mouth and watch as a story is born on the spot. OMG!!!
  6. When the timer sounds, the listener has one minute to praise what she liked about the newborn story: any detail, name, fragment that held her attention.
  7. Reset the timer and switch. The listener allows her story to happen out loud for three minutes, and her partner then offers her appreciations.
  8. Everyone returns to the circle and it’s time to tell the stories again. One by one each story is retold to the group. Something happens between the first and second telling. I can’t explain it. Just go with it.
  9. Sit there and listen. Be amazed, enthralled and enchanted.
  10. Come back in a week and do it all again.

On the day when I told my first story out of thin air, I was hooked and have stayed hooked. I don’t remember my first prompt or the story I told, but I do remember sitting in a straight-backed chair feeling like I was sky-diving.

That day I heard one lovely, gutsy, outrageous, untidy tale after another. Stories I didn’t want to end. And after each story, the praising comments were made. I liked that newborn creations were not hit with bats in this group; newborns were encouraged to grow.

At the end of the meeting, the leader shared a bit about how the group was started, and about how stories are upstream from everything, and about their motto: Tell Me a Story I Won’t Forget.

After several years of listening and telling in the sacred space of the group, stories in the voice of a little girl started happening for me. I liked these stories so much I did the unthinkable in an improv group: before driving back out of the canyon, I sat in my car and wrote the stories down.

Later, I had the dream where Mrs. Iptweet came to me in a bus and spelled her name.  And so those first-person stories in the voice of a nine-year-old became The Magical Mrs. Iptweet and Me and I added Author to my list of life adventures.

Ursula and I still meet regularly and do improv storytelling together.

Thank you, Ursula.

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