The Tweet-Sized Essay

The Copy Cure (Marie Forleo and Laura Roeder) said you can write a blog post with a tweet– that no one ever opened an email and said, “Man, that was too short!”

When I started thinking about life in facebook posts, (as in, “Oh, I’ll say…”) I felt a little worried.

It’s gross to always be broadcasting.

For a w hile I decided if I wanted to post a status, I actually had enough to say in a blog post– and I did.

Now I’ve been cutting way back on online time again– ‘Living Locally’– and I feel the shift happening again: I want to write.

To people.

But I want to write a letter, pass a note– sign your yearbook– not shout in a megaphone.

It feels beautiful to write out compact thoughts, to explore and give value and time to snippets.

And it’s true:  There’s a whole blog post or poem or letter in a tiny tweet.

Evidence: This one is written on two sides of a recipe card.

Why Creative Blocks are a Good Thing

On Writer’s Block jumped into my box at the Friends of the Library Book Sale.

I was wary– I’ve done The Artist’s Way, this could be old territory.

But Victoria Nelson had me Aha-ing with every chapter.

Primarily, she says that a block can be the sign of creative integrity.

It shows up and halts all activity when the Ego is trying to muscle the Soul/Unconscious into something that isn’t quite right.

We should use blocks as guideposts.

Stop and uncover what is at the cause of it.

What is the resistance?

I know this, but it was powerful and helpful to see it all written out so matter-of-factly.

A block safeguards the work until Ego can handle it.

A block stops you from digging around to see if the seeds are actually growing (an act that would kill the garden).

A block is a sign of creative health, not ever of failure.

Avoiding the Gate: When the Project Feels Slow

I’m publishing my first book and it’s going so slowly.

Not too slowly, but slower than my imagination.

I’m a skittish colt leaping around instead of running straight through the open gate.

But the colt (and I) aren’t wrong.

We’re not lazy or bad or even distracted.

We’re young and there’s a lot of extra energy and it’s spring and everything is new– and, most importantly– there is time.

There is time for leaping and snorting, pawing at the ground, tossing our heads, putting on a show.

This isn’t a term paper, and we don’t have a death sentence.

Sometimes the rhythm and goals of life are urgent, pressing– but all things happen in their right time.

There is no mistake.

It always goes exactly how it must go– but sometimes I had other predictions or step-skipping hopes.

But in the end, I know I will be satisfied and the gate will be beautiful– even my friend.

Lizzie + Bluebeard: Sharing a Work-in-Progress

It seems backward to write a book while also working the busiest season at our B+B and performing in the summer musical– but the energy of summer and long daylight (and some writing buddies to check in with three days a week) make it pretty easy.

This is the first time I’ve shared a book as I go. It’s always been tempting… and terrifying. Now the timing is right, and it’s been a great way to have accountability.

A surprise benefit has been writing up chapter summaries as I go. (I know internet strangers won’t all start reading at chapter one). I’m not an outliner, but I do appreciate having a loose outline form as I go. (I use Scrivener, which makes all of this a fast process).

This is how I imagine Bluebeard’s forbidden North Tower. Image: https://mediaandpcmodreveiws.wordpress.com/2013/07/16/oblivion-mod-dungeons-of-ivellon/

I’ve often read that you should ‘write for an audience.’ And that’s just never been my natural style. I write for me. I write for the same reason I read: to discover a new land, to fall in love, to be delighted and transformed.

But I have a couple of good friends who, without any prodding on my part, have been reading the novel regularly. Sue just sent me a facebook message today saying she’s especially enjoyed the last two chapters. Julie reads the new chapters before bed. (Since the book is based on the very gory “Bluebeard” fairytale, this surprised me…) It’s nice to have that little boost to keep writing each week.

Start reading “Lizzie + Bluebeard”

Lizzie + Bluebeard is built on the Bluebeard fairy tale, but also incorporates a few other stories I came across in my career as an oral storyteller, including “The Giant With No Heart in His Body” and various “Baba Yaga” tales. Today I got to write the meeting of Lizzie, Bluebeard’s 36th wife, and Baba Yaga, the Mother of All Witches…

Ch 29: Inside the Witch’s Hut

Dawn breaks as Lizzie enters the witch’s yard. It is deserted but charged with magic. She knocks at the door…

What about you? What are you dreaming up?

She Slept Alone for 40 Nights: 10 First Sentences

1. She slept alone for 40 nights.

2. How big is a whale, really?

3. It was an occasion for silly hats, and Brad did not care for hats.

4. ‘If’ and ‘When’ and ‘How’– they all mean such subtly different things.

5. “The parade’s coming! I hear the– oh, no.”

6. He had worked at the fair for 25 years and he did the same routine at two o’clock each day.

7. She was a hesitant pianist.

8. The sky was orange for days from the far-off fires.

9. The latest thing to catch her interest was mushrooming.

10. “If you only knew how precious you were,” said Aunt Margaret in a tone that said something else entirely.

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Kelly Barnhill mentioned that she writes 10 First Sentences everyday. I love this. I love seeing glimpses into so many worlds. (It reminds me of reading Enid Blyton’s The Faraway Tree as a kid).

Share your 10 First Sentences in a comment– or write what comes next!

Drunken Monkeys & Morning Pages

I lead my first ever Virtual Writing Group today [Jan 2013]. To begin, I talked about my writing philosophy. I faithfully follow the wise advice of Natalie Goldberg who instructs me to leave my pen on the page and to keep it moving.

 

Write now. Edit later.

 

This means writing in spite of the “drunken monkeys and screaming banshees,” as Anne Lammott calls the clamboring noises in her head.

As I explained this today, I realized that I have become very good at writing no matter what those critical voices say. And this is because I do Morning Pages.

 

Morning Pages are one of two essential elements in Julia Cameron’sThe Artist’s Way, a book I recommend to everyone. What are they?

 

They are three pages, written long-hand, done first thing in the morning, every morning. 

 

They are whatever pours out of my head. Often my jumbled dreams and plans for the day have space there. Sometimes they are even poetic. For about the first two or three years they were exclusively whiny. I have made countless mention of how I should have peed before I started them. 

There is no wrong way to do them, as long as you do them: write three pages without stopping. Content is not important.

In the last year or two, as my sense of self has been greatly challeneged and deepened, I have found that I am able to allow the Censor, Critic or Drunken Monkey space on the page. It began as an experiment: What happens if, instead of fearing what it will say, I let it talk?

For a few months I really needed to write up a whole page of affirmations afterward to avoid a major self-esteem deficit. Now I can immediately tell by the tone which inner voice is talking. Is it my Higher Self with good advice? Or my Critic?

The surprising thing is that I have learned my Critic can be just as useful to me as those wise words that sometimes come. When the Critic pipes up, I know right away that something is scaring it and it feels threatened. This is great! This means I’m on to something! The Critic gets nasty when I am serving my own growth and evolution. I am on the right track.

Then I can strategize for how to be doubly kind to myself. I get a heads up that this project will need extra support. I can see the pattern and avoid being pulled into the drama. 

It’s like parenting a toddler during a tantrum: instead of being the toddler, I get to be the adult standing calmly by, knowing that no harm is coming to anyone and that this, too, shall pass.

I get to write and create and be prolific, no matter what the Critic has to say.

 

 

TRY IT

• It takes at least a month to really create a habit, so commit to that. You won’t regret it.
• Get up 45 minutes earlier everyday.
  • Mine only take 20 minutes now, but I’m fast and I have years of practice. 
• Use a standard spiral bound notebook and a comfortable pen.
  • I recommend wide rule over college rule: I’m fast because I’m messy.
  • Natalie says pencils have too much drag on the page, and I agree.
• Write whatever comes into your head for 3 whole pages without stopping.
  • even, “I don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to write. I don’t know…”
• After a week, see how you feel. How is your day impacted?
• If you need some support, email me. 
  • Or pick up a copy of The Artist’s Way. 
  • Or start this with a buddy and check in daily or weekly.

 

No matter what kind of artist you are, and even if you don’t call yourself an artist at all, doing Morning Pages will help quiet your mind and tell you who is driving the bus today. And that makes a profound and marked difference in your life.

p.s. What supports you? Do you have a helpful daily habit?