While A is away, the blog still gets to play. Please welcome Marie Ann Bailey, from 1WriteWay.
Brittany woke to the sharp odor of damp soil and something else, something familiar, something sweet. She tried to stretch out her legs. Her feet touched a solid barrier before her legs were fully straight. She was lying on her right side, in a fetal position. She tried to lift up but, again, she met with a barrier. She opened her eyes wide but it was dark all around her. Her throat tightened and she felt a rising hot bubble of panic coming up from her stomach. She was in a box of some kind. Soil beneath her, wood on the sides and above her. She stretched out her hands and felt around the small, close space. The smell of the soil and the “something else” was adding to her panic. She…
This morning I had the good fortune to come across this post from Dave at According to Dave. He shares a post from a NaNoWriMo forum. You can read the original post at http://nanowrimo.org/en/forums/reaching-50-000/threads/114149, or go to Dave’s blog for the full text. In short, the post is about a fear that many writers have: the fear of being thought ridiculous. Not unskilled, not inexperienced, but ridiculous as in your writing can be “laughed at, scorned, lampooned.”
I’m currently participating in Camp NaNoWriMo and am going through the usual “this novel is s**t” roadblock. And I recognize the fear that the poster writes about, the fear that makes me question every page, every paragraph, every word I type. I know I’ve written about this in other posts of mine and in comments about writing workshops and the like, but apparently it’s not a dead subject for me.
In a college-level workshop that I took about 20 years ago, one of my stories–the ending, specifically–was laughed at, mocked. The mocking was led by the professor and I assume since he was known for getting young writers hooked up with agents and publishers, some students took his cue to impress him. At least one student saw the devastation and humiliation writ large on my face and tried to comfort me later. I’ll admit the ending was melodramatic and the story had a lot of problems overall. But I’m not convinced it was necessary to humiliate me.
Ironically, my final story for that semester was one that the professor crowed about, to the point of introducing me to someone important (an agent, maybe? a publisher?) at a writing conference. If he was offering me an opportunity at that point, I missed it because I couldn’t reconcile his willingness to humiliate with his willingness to praise one and the same writer. I remember standing in the room, between him and this important person, and being dumbstruck because I hadn’t anticipated his praise. I had no 3-minute elevator pitch. I had nothing. I just smiled at him. I might have said thank you. They walked away. The important person was obviously unimpressed.
Although the wound still aches and I still fight the fear of being found unworthy, of being found a figure for ridicule, I also now feel unimpressed by the professor and his connections. I realize that some of the dynamic in that workshop, in that whole writing program, was based largely on his influence, his power to anoint the next “golden boy” or “golden girl” writer. It wasn’t to guide us into becoming better writers, but for him to find the diamonds in the rough and nurture them. Like many in academia, professors seek out those students who make them look good.
Fortunately this professor was not my only access to guidance. And I did learn a lot in his workshop, technically speaking. It’s a sorry state to be past my mid-fifties and still coming to a near froth over that experience. But it’s time to move on, to write my “ridiculous” novel, if that is what it is, to take a cue from a young woman who, although still afraid, “cannot shut [her] mouth from shouting the music that has swelled in [her] lungs.”
This is actually a writing post…kind of. We all know I like titles that drag you guys in because I am a comment whore.
Plus Julian Froment started this conversation and asked me not to tell everyone even though he said it in the comments. He is a very reserved gentleman who would never swear and/or make a lewd comment to anyone anywhere. What we like to refer to as proper English Gent. I lie. I digress. Go check out his blog anyway. I hang out there. We can have a drink.
So here is the question. When you are writing and reading, how important is it to you that the characters fall in love with one another before they fall into bed? Do they ever have to fall in love or is the act itself good enough to satisfy you?
I am disappointed that roughly two weeks have gone by since my last update, when I had intended to make weekly updates. Oh … d**n … I just blew Goal #1 … again :(
(1) Get off my own back. Yadda yadda. They’ll find a cure for the common cold before they find a cure for my self-flagellation.
(2) Set up a schedule of posting that gives me time to write, but doesn’t make followers think I’ve fallen off the face of the earth. I adjusted this goal down to posting to The Community Storyboard and my blog, perhaps on alternate weeks. That all depends on whether someone has posted an engaging writing prompt and/or I:
(3) Get organized. What a joke this goal is!! Especially right now when our kitchen is in such disarray. The good news is that the cabinets are all in. We have to wait on the countertop but in the meantime my dear hubby laid plywood over the cabinets so we have workspace. And we can start unpacking and filling in the upper cabinets. But I still have to wash dishes in my shower. And now that we’re moving things around again, I’m feeling disoriented (doesn’t take much).
(4) Write the third novel in my series, The Widow’s Club (working title). This is the one goal I may actually be succeeding with: I’ve written 13,147 words so far. At this rate, I could be done ahead of schedule, but I’ve had the luxury of a long weekend. Tomorrow (Monday) it’s back to the workday world and I’ll be happy to get any writing done.
So that’s my update. I probably won’t make another RCC update until end of July, just to spare myself from having to admit that I’m still behind on most of my goals. I mean, really, I’m not that much of a masochist, am I? (No one has to answer that question.)
A couple of months ago, I created a Facebook Page. You can find it here or click Like on the widget in the right-hand column (gotcha!). Initially, I was hesitant to start a Facebook Page because I have strong but mixed feelings about Facebook in general. I managed to avoid Facebook until a few years ago when I discovered that one of my nieces had started posting all her children’s pictures there. I opened an account immediately. Seeing pictures of adorable baby boys as they grow up was a huge incentive. At that time, Facebook was fairly easy to navigate; that was before it started to emulate Twitter.
Over the years since then, I’ve accrued a fair number of “friends.” A large majority of my friends are actually family (I have a lot of cousins). The rest are former classmates, coworkers, former coworkers, and a few are friends. Now, making these distinctions, especially between friends and coworkers, is not to suggest that I don’t consider my coworkers or former coworkers to be friends; many of them are. In fact, I actually like everyone I’m “friends” with on Facebook; in many cases, I love them. What makes my personal Facebook account awkward for me is the degree (or lack thereof) to which I can be fully myself. The thing is: my Facebook friends represent a vast spectrum of likes and dislikes, political and otherwise. I don’t hide the fact that I am a “bleeding heart liberal.” (In reality, I’m more moderate, but compared to some people, yup, I’m a bleeding heart.) Yet, I still feel uneasy when I express my political views, when I express myself. I don’t separate the political from my personal life. I don’t because I live the political everyday. I have a government job so I know first-hand how political winds will affect whether or not I can accomplish my agency’s mission. I’ve been a social worker, counseling victims of domestic violence and sexual abuse, so I know first-hand how legislation can help or hinder a victim’s recovery. I’ve taught college-level courses in composition and social work, so I know first-hand how university politics can ultimately shortchange a student’s education by not teaching him writing or critical thinking skills. So, for me, politics is personal.
But I know that my views are not shared by every one of my Facebook friends, so I censor myself, at least I try. I’m sure there are some friends/family members/coworkers who would like me to try harder. And there are some friends whose views I totally disagree with. I don’t ask them to censor themselves; instead, I simply hide their posts. The downside of that is I then miss the occasional good news, latest baby picture, etc., unless I go directly to their Facebook page, which is not something I always remember to do. There have been many times when I thought about just deleting my account altogether. If any one of my Facebook friends really want to stay in touch with me, they have my email address or they can call my mom and get my phone number. I’ve lived at the same street address for almost 22 years. I’m not hard to find.
But those pictures of the little ones get me every time. I have five grandnephews and one grandniece. They live in different states so to see them grow up, I need to keep my Facebook account.
But I still think of closing my account and here’s another reason why. Now that I have a Facebook Page, I feel lonelier than ever on my personal account. My birthday last week came and went with only one person from my personal account wishing me a happy birthday and that was done through a direct message, not on my Timeline. Yet, I blogged about my birthday and when the post showed up on my Facebook Page, it went “viral.” According to Facebook, it got the most Likes and was viewed by more people than anything I’ve written to date. Now, I usually don’t broadcast my birthday. I tend to keep it under the radar, but this year was special to me and I wanted to celebrate. That so many in my blogging community celebrated with me was a wonderful experience. That there wasn’t a peep on my personal Facebook account brought me up short. [Caveat: three friends from my personal account did Like my blog post on my Facebook Page and left messages.]
The difference is that on my Facebook Page, I am a writer and everyone I Like through that page is a writer. That’s my focus. On this blog and through my Facebook Page and Twitter account, I stay pretty focused on writing. I have nothing to censor and I can be totally myself. It’s ironic to me that, through my blog, I feel more myself than through any other media. And I don’t feel lonely. Yet, I do, at times, on my personal Facebook account.
There’s been many discussions about loneliness and Facebook, studies done, reports published (like this one from the Atlantic Monthly). My husband cites these studies as one reason why he doesn’t and will never have a Facebook account. Being a shy, sensitive introvert, I do become easily paranoid (“Nobody likes me!,” “I’m persona non grata and I don’t know why!”). Thus, I have to remind myself that this problem with Facebook is of my own making. I should know better than to think that “silence” on my personal account indicates anything. The dark side of social media is that your expectations get raised beyond reasonable levels. Before Facebook, I was tickled by every birthday card I got, and I didn’t think about the ones I didn’t get. A bit more effort goes into selecting and sending a card whereas with Facebook all you have to do is point and click. And so we (at least I) have a tendency to expect more from people now then I did pre-Facebook days. And that’s simply not a fair expectation.
I started off this post thinking I had every reason to feel unhappy with my personal Facebook account. But now I realize it was my own unreasonable expectations that have caused my unhappiness. I’ll keep that personal account because it’s a great way to see the kids in my family grow, see my mom with her great-grandchildren, occasionally exchange political views with like-minded comrades, and keep track of my wealth of family and friends. My Facebook Page is for the writer that I am now and the author that I hope to be.
Hello, my fellow bloggers and blogettes! As many of you know, I am again throwing caution to the wind and entering another Camp NaNoWriMo writing challenge! I did one in April and was successful. That is, I reached my goal of 50 thousand words and actually had a beginning, middle, and end to the novel I was working on. Whether the novel is successful (i.e., readable) is another issue.
Because I’ve made this commitment (and I know a number of you probably think I should be committed), my presence in the blogosphere will be spotty over the next 30 days. Not only have I challenged myself with another 50 thousand words, but I have cabin mates this time. My dear friend, Patti Hall over at 1WritePlace, is a cabin mate. She and a few other mates are already ahead of me in word count and it’s only been one effing day! (Of course, Patti’s snoring kept me up most of the night. I’ll either have to sleep outside or put a pillow over her head.)
Anyway, I digress (as usual … and that’s my secret to winning NaNoWriMos … I digress a lot). I won’t be going totally off the radar, but just wanted to give everyone notice in case you miss me. (And you ask, “how can I miss you if you won’t go away” …. one of my favorite songs from Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks).
I’ve been honored with TWO awards this week! I am rather awestruck since never in my life have I felt so popular then when I rebooted my blog :) The first award I received this week is the Shine On award given to me by the truly inspiring Running To Her Dreams blogger. If you haven’t visited her blog yet, then go now! You can always find your way back to me later ;)
As with all awards, there are a few rules (which I may or may not follow ;))
1. Display the award logo on your blog. ‘Tis done.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you. Yup, did that, too :)
3. State 7 things about yourself. Anything? OK, here’s to my boring self:
It’s Friday and I’m taking the day off because
My kitchen is being “demolished” because
We’re getting new kitchen cabinets!
Because the old ones were original (32 years and counting) and I tend to be slow to start home improvement projects
I picked out the new cabinets which are white and double-wrapped with polymer to protect from water damage
To my chagrin, the new cabinets are from the Martha Stewart line because
I don’t like Martha Stewart the person, but I know I will love my new cabinets ;)
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them. This is always the biggest challenge for me because I haven’t yet figured out a seamless way to copy and paste these links without having multiple windows open :( But I’ve got time on my hands today so here goes:
I will now proceed to the second award, the Liebster Award, bestowed upon me by the ever erudite John W. Howell at http://johnwhowell.com/. Do not hesitate to visit his blog! I’ll still be here when you get back ;)
In accordance with the Liebster rules:
A. List eleven random facts about yourself
My birthday is tomorrow (for those of you in a different time zone, tomorrow could be yesterday, it could be today or it could still be tomorrow ;))
I will be six years shy of eligibility for Social Security, but something tells me I’ll keep working
I don’t have kids so I have no sense of time passing which means I have no sense of myself aging …
Until I take a look in the mirror and do not immediately recognize myself
Even though my hair is gray, in my mind it’s still dark brown
I think I’m more physically fit than I was in my 20s
But I also have more aches and pains than I did in my 20s
To celebrate the arrival of our new kitchen cabinets, we had a beer before dinner and then wine with dinner
We both woke up the next morning remembering why we shouldn’t do that
I’m looking forward to getting my house back in order after our kitchen is done
I would like someone else to get my house back in order after our kitchen is done
B. Nominate eleven other bloggers for the Liebster Award (why not … I’m on a roll!)
C. Notify these bloggers: In due time, I have to finish this post first …
D. Ask eleven questions that the bloggers must answer upon accepting the Liebster Award.
What would be your perfect meal (if calories and expense were of no concern)?
What is your favorite footwear?
What is your favorite automobile (if any)?
How do we achieve world peace?
Who or what is your muse?
What is your favorite time of day?
Do you see dead people? (If yes, explain. If no, then I am relieved.)
What is your favorite form of exercise?
When is your favorite time to work on your blog?
What is your top pet peeve?
What makes you the most happy?
E. Answer the eleven questions that you were asked when you were nominated
Do you want to be rich and famous? Rich but not famous (I don’t want no stinkn’ paparazzi following me around)
If yes why and if no why? I answered Yes and No because why wouldn’t I want to be rich and why would I want to be famous if I could just be rich?
What is the most important day of the week for you? Saturday
What is your favorite dessert? Ben and Jerry’s Americone ice cream
How long did it take you to feel good about writing? About 40 years
What is your favorite time of day? Whenever my cat Luisa has finally fallen asleep
Who do you depend upon? My husband
Has anyone ever let you down? Of course, but it was usually my fault.
Where on Earth do you think is closest to heaven? Atop Black Point at Mono Lake, California
What was the most valuable advice anyone ever gave you? Trust your intuition
What is the most indulgent gift you ever received or given? I don’t know if I would call it an indulgence, but the most $$ gift was when I gave a family member $1,000 to help him go to Costa Rica for experimental treatment of MS. We can’t say the treatments actually helped, but I’ve never regretted helping him get the chance to try.
I end this post, with both hands patting myself on the back :) Cheers, everyone!
A timely post to the blog Interesting Literature. In the Comments section, Linker adds this insight: “Wheatley wrote during a period called the “Cult of Sensibility” that was especially important to anti-slavery movements in England and America in the late eighteenth century. The idea behind sensibility was to create empathy for the sufferer through vicarious, or shared feeling. In literary texts, this was achieved through the power of the imagination.” This is a good quote to have at the ready when someone asks what is the purpose of fiction.
Phillis Wheatley (1753-84), an eighteenth-century black slave taught to read by her owners, composed over 100 poems in her lifetime, many of them drawing on the Bible as a source of infallible authority. The first slave to publish a book, Wheatley often urges America to repent of its participation in the slave trade. (She was also the originator of ‘Columbia’ as a term for America, which she invented in her 1776 poem ‘To His Excellency George Washington’.) Steeped in western canonical authors, including Ovid, Virgil, Shakespeare, and Milton, she draws on classical and religious allusions to challenge legal and social limitations that denigrate slaves, adopting established poetical forms only to use them as sites of resistance. Her poetry demonstrates remarkable technique and learning.
One of her most interesting poems, ‘On Imagination’, employs art as a means of freeing the mind and the muse, conceptualized as a figure…
My conversation with Rajiv on hyperconnectivity continues. I began to comment and once again found myself going on at length. Here’s part of my comment to Rajiv’s post:
“I’m starting to wonder if there is generational difference with hyperconnectivity. I grew up without computers, without even remote-controlled TV (in fact, our first TV was black and white), without cell phones or even portable phones, etc. So while I have jumped into the social media soup, I seem to be less inclined to drown in the broth of hyperconnectivity (sorry, it’s early, I’ve only had one cup of coffee so my brain is making up weird metaphors). For example, with Facebook: it’s been easy for me to stay “offline” so no one can chat with me and I do enjoy the feature of being able to “hide” the posts of certain “friends” so I am not sucked into interactions that I don’t want to be in. Do you think there’s a generational difference here? And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll carry this over to my blog since my comment is (again) getting rather long :)”
I’m seeing more and more discussions about social media and how to manage various accounts and still get one’s work (writing) done. It’s an issue that I would like to address more “professionally,” but, as seems to be more and more often, I have to wait until I have a nice chunk of uninterrupted time to put together a coherent post.
My kitchen is scheduled to be demolished tomorrow (Friday). We’ll see how well I can write around that kind of chaos :)
Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a writer! Your writer will perform amazing tricks for you, such as spending hours and hours by themselves working on something that they may never finish. Or, accumulating a small collection of editors who thank them for their work but it’s just not right for this publication.
You may be wondering how to feed and care for this moody and reclusive creature, who is “writing a novel” but won’t tell you what it’s about. Writers need specialized care, so here are 10 easy Do’s and Don’ts to take care of this special breed.
Do give them a minimum of 1 hour of writing time per day. For many writers it may be more, but this is the minimum for a writer to stay healthy. Also do not make your writer feel guilty about this. It is really hard for them…
Marie at 1 Write Way 