DISCIPLINE WHEN YOU WRITE

There are times when you have to beat your lazy self into submission. There is always a part of the makeup of we writers that hits those times when we don't want to put seat to the chair and pen to paper. We'd rather play.

I haven't been playing but have found my injury and pain has curtailed the drive to write. I think my muse has been hijacked. I realize we can't always control this urge to be nonproductive but I am putting myself on a guilt trip. So I have tried to do something I teach writers to follow: take up my notebook and write this resistance out of my system. As I always preach, I plan to allow five or ten minutes to these voices who have nothing to do with what I should be writing--maybe work on my next book, write a short story for an online site, a new poem for my critique group, or sketch out another children's story. (If I worked on all of these, even bits and pieces, my notebook would certainly not be empty.)

Two friends and I have started a new snail-mail writer's group. We keep in touch in between submissions to each other (a newsletter from each of us to each other)by email and in a short while have already created a good bond for helping each other with our writing and our lives. I don't like groups where they expect you to be perfect or to always be striving for an agent or a market for your bestseller. I also don't enjoy groups that tear the offered writings into little pieces word by word but, on the other hand, I don't want someone to always hold back with critiques or pat me on the back with a "wonderful everything" proclamation either.

But I need to write, as do you. I need to find my way back to the demand on my mind and heart to create. And that takes descipline--and maybe more than one trick. I can tell myself I only have a certain time each day to write so I can't fool around and waste one minute of it. In other words, I should set a writing/working routine.

I read once that every writer should try to fill one of the 80-word spiral notebooks each month. That's a mountain for me--not because I can't do it but because I writein so many notebooks--writing, morning glories, quotes, etc. I need to stick to a open-ended notebook for writing anything and everything that comes to mind.

Whatever it takes, you and I should descipline ourselves to write something--dare I say somewhat useful--on a reasonable schedule. Only then can we continue to call ourselves writers.

TOPICS FROM THE MIND

Sometimes we sit down to write at our appropriated time (if we are so lucky to be able to schedule such time)and cannot think of a thing to write. I know many so-called experts say we should just start typing, even if it is to say "I can't think of anything to write." I try to do something different.

Remember those notebooks I tell you to always have handy--a large one around the house and a small one in your purse, briefcase or backpack? You should have snippets in them: there should be notes on books, quotes, lines of dialolgue, beginnings of stories, anything that might be used one day to write about. Take one of those ideas and type it onto the screen, or write it at the top of a page. Write.

Maybe this snippet will elude to a flash of memory. You might write poetry, a short story, the beginnings of a novel, maybe even a personal essay. Anything can help you activate your writing, such as my memory of the scene out my kitchen window in a home in Bakersfield, California:

My favorite light comes in through my kitchen window during the spring mornings. The Chinaberry trees I planted as bare twigs have grown so tall they throw morning shade over the window, leaving no glare anymore.

The trees branches are long, the tiny leaves are lacy, and the shape of the tree is that of an umbrella. My husband thought I was a bit mad to pick these "sticks" out at the local Home Depot and plant three of them in a row on the east side of the house. I chose them for several reasons, one of which was the fact that they grew quickly and our new home was starving for anything to block out the hot San Joaquin Valley sun. Another reason was that these Chinaberry trees brought back childhood memories of shade made in that Texas yard where I had first found my love for capturing my life with words. And, in Texas, another name for the tree is an umbrella tree, which is what these trees in my yard looked like.

Beyond the tree I could see colorful beds of Sweet William, red and yellow cannas, pink and burgandy oleanders, yellow Carolina jasmine, sweet honeysuckle, and the white cups of the calla lilies. The soft morning light seemed to draw the color and scents into the room.

When the sun shifts to strike the stained glass and crystal suncatchers hanging in the kitchen window, and casts prisms of primary colors over the walls, countertops, and floors, I am so pleased that a season ago I chose to plant those twigs that became a shelter for birds, soft breezes, and childhood memories.

VACATIONS CAN PROMOTE IDEAS

It has been too long since I blogged but I have an excuse. I have been working long hours editing, rewriting, and proofing a manuscript for my next book, Pink Poodle Pie (and Other Tales of Women Getting Even). It will be out sometime in the early fall. Of course, I will remind all of you when the release date is decided.

I took two weeks off (yes, my editor knows where I am and what I'm doing-lol), to fly to Florida for our youngest granddaughter's wedding on July 4. Shannon Hall married Richard Hughes on our most patriotic day. Grandma helped decorate, shop, plan some last minutes fun things, and was so proud of the lovely bride (and her choice of husband). Very proud of the job my daughter and son-in-law have done in bringing up three wonderful adults also. It has been a super time with my three great-grandsons too.

And I have gleaned some ideas from the whole process. Weddings and parties and all those characters that show up offer great material. The lush green of Florida, the aligator-clogged ponds, the hardworking, beer-drinking, pickup-truck driving, Crackers or Rebels, or Rednecks of FLorida, and the Cuban influence all make fodder for future stories.

As I have said before, never forget that little notebook when you venture from home. I have been scribbling notes in between events, while sitting on the patio (covered, of course), while listening to the squeals of my great-grandsons in the pool, or feeding ducks in the pond in back of the yard. I may not use the notes any time soon but I have them down.

Happy Writing. See you soon.