About Writing

Terrible Reader

Autumn

I confess that I’m a terrible reader. Every time I pick up a book, I think, “This time I’ll read every word,” then sooner or later, I get bored and start skipping through.

“Why is the author taking so long to call the wagon green?”

“Meh, sex.”

“Okay, this character is stupid.”

“We get it already, they had a good time at the picnic.”

When I read out loud to the children, I adopt that bored, “Let’s get through this massive paragraph as quick as possible” monotone voice, and I’m afraid it’s pretty obvious that I don’t enjoy it.

It always feels like there’s a huge number of words getting in the way of the story, and I can’t remember the last time I found a book engrossing. Sometimes I could swear that authors actually want readers to skim over half of the novel, and throw in lots of filler just to look more impressive at first glance.

“In my book, it takes 800 pages for fifteen characters to make a single grilled cheese sandwich. It’s rich with subplots about running out of bread, taking bathroom breaks, and even falling in love. I also included numerous philosophical discussions about the merits of cheddar versus colby jack, and the different methods of toasting the bread. I included lots of poetry. There’s even a surprise plot twist where it turns out that half the characters are actually grilled cheese sandwiches themselves! The novel ends after the characters burn down the house and die because they tried to make it in the toaster.”

Oh wow!

No way!

The funny thing is, when I read my own stories with the same method I use to read other novels, I do get the whole, “WOAH this story is progressing crazy fast!” feeling. My style really isn’t best experienced by charging through. I do always “test read” my stuff before putting it out there, and following the natural flow of my mind without trying to speed up or edit anything feels good to me, so that’s how I keep it.

I skip writing the stuff that I skip reading. Which is a lot. But hey, that also means that there isn’t anything for you to skip over either, because I’m probably WAY worse than you about that.

Lol.

About Writing

Writing Lessons from Bob Ross: Embrace the Process

Autumn

Sometimes I like to turn on Bob Ross to absorb how calm and mellow he is, and I find it relaxing to sit and watch him paint for a bit. Children are highly chaotic entities, so I know how to appreciate the change in pace that comes with everyone sitting together watching a show that we can all enjoy.

It occurred to me that one could also learn how to write from Bob Ross, as long as you think metaphorically.

He doesn’t simply slap down blobs of color and call it done. He blends the paint, adds shadows and highlights, and is mindful of the details. He also doesn’t overwork the paint or try to control every single aspect of the picture, instead working with the textures of the brush strokes and allowing elements to evolve naturally.

And, as everyone knows, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.”

A lot of writers stop at the blobs of color phase. They’ll free write whatever passes through their minds then hit ‘publish’ without any more thought about the story. These sorts of writers can produce a lot of content in a short amount of time, but it will all feel unpolished and unsatisfying. Often, when I have tried to explain how these writers have good potential but they need to dedicate more attention to reworking their story, they get upset rather than accepting the advice (even when I’m responding to their request for criticism). So, remember, blobs of color are your foundation, but they are not your finished story. The first draft should not be your last. And no, your blobs of color are not more genius than anyone else’s. They all pretty much look the same.

Others will overwork the story to death. They’ll edit out the spontaneity of adventure, and reduce their characters to props who serve rigid roles, instead of letting them shine as quirky individuals. These writers don’t let the overall picture evolve naturally, and their stories feel formulaic. While they are often well intentioned, they don’t know how to let the story flow on its own.

There are also writers who put in too much detail, and create overly-busy stories with no clear focus. They forget to leave the background in the background. They throw too much information at the reader all at one, or create more characters than there’s room for. They describe the condiments instead of the picnic.

When you are in the process of editing, take a step back and try to visualize the story as a painting. Is there enough detail without being overdone? Did you let elements evolve naturally and follow the flow? Did you flesh out the foreground and leave the background appropriately hazy? Is it something that you would hang on *your* wall? Remember, you can always fix it.

And the next time you watch Bob Ross, just imagine that he’s speaking in metaphor and soak in all of his encouragement.

Muse

Dark Sarah – Dance With The Dragon

Autumn

I saw this and thought, “Lol, how silly!” then moved on.

A few months later, I randomly remembered the video and wished I could find it again.

About Writing

Embrace Your Creative Freedom in Fiction Writing

Autumn

I often think that the problem with contemporary fiction writing is that there are too many rules to contend with. Writing communities are stiff with them. People constantly ask for help with them and enforce them on others. Most of the time, whenever someone asks for a critique, it boils down to, “Am I following the rules properly?”

What about creative passion? Idealism? Soul expression? Where do those fit in?

Why do people ask, “Is this something that others would read?” instead of, “Is this something I care deeply about?”

When it comes to writing, the single most important thing is to have fun. Enjoy it. Randomly burst into laughter because you thought of something funny to write while waiting in line at the grocery store. Cry when your characters are sad. Ride the roller coaster of emotion that comes from being a writer, and revel in the intensity of life. It can be so blissfully wonderful.

Tell as much as you want instead of showing it. Use the word ‘said’ exclusively. Describe everything with adverbs. Neglect world building. Write only subplots. Use your favorite cliches. Include funky colloquialisms.

Just be you.

Don’t copy someone else. Don’t seek out everyone else’s approval. Don’t slavishly follow rules and formulas because someone wrote an article about it. Don’t follow bad advice from the internet.

Figure out what you like, and do it. Perfect it. Develop a strong voice and your own unique style.

I believe that there’s an empathic transfer that happens between author and reader. If you aren’t madly head over heels in love with your own story to begin with, then no one else will feel that way either. If you don’t care, then no one else will care.

And besides,

You can’t please everyone.

But you can certainly please yourself. So isn’t that where you ought to start?

(And yes, I know I’ve written a similar post before, but exposure to writing communities always puts me on this train of thought)

About Me

Mom Life

Autumn

Didn’t get enough sleep last night.

We’re still co-sleeping with the one-year-old, but she’s getting so wriggly that I’m starting to wake up in the middle of the night with her sprawled over my head. I know it’s time to move her out so I can catch up on my sanity, but that also means acknowledging that she’s not a tiny baby anymore. It’s emotional, so I haven’t brought myself to actually doing it yet.

Had an energy drink first thing in the morning. Too tired to make coffee. I know I shouldn’t make a habit out of it.

Wore all black, including an ankle-length circle skirt. Lots of eyeliner and mascara. I wondered why no one ever calls me goth.

Decided to take the kids out Halloween shopping. I call them my ducklings, because I love the way they naturally spread out when they follow me. This year we bought costumes. Normally I sew them myself, but… I’m tired.

Laughed at how much the kids loved to be scared of the decorations, and we found glow-in-the-dark spider web for the house. Two of them made up their minds quickly about what they wanted to be for Halloween. I felt a little vexed at my seven-year-old’s indecisiveness, as she switched between wanting to be a witch, a mermaid, and a unicorn. Thought about how, if I was sewing her a costume, she could be a witch-mermaid-unicorn. Felt guilty.

Walked to a nearby restaurant and shared a plate of teriyaki chicken and macaroni salad with the kids. I was amazed at how much they eat now. Seemed like it was just yesterday when I had to beg them to sit still and eat something, but today they were ravenous. Had a really pleasant time, and felt mostly awake. The children were astonishingly well-behaved and didn’t make much of a mess.

At home, I let the kids try on their new costumes and dance on the freshly painted floor. The previous owners of our house had painted the wood a hideous shade of taupe, and after a lot of deliberation and research, we decided to cover it up with enamel paint. Golden yellow. While we can walk on it, the paint still needs time to cure before we can put the furniture back, which leaves a nice big empty space for playing. The rest of the house is chaos.

Put the costumes away soon after, before they could get ripped or stained. I know my children well.

Screen time for the kids. Bathed the baby, and took care of the laundry. Apple slices and chocolate milk all around. Fatigue headache started setting in. Still not caught up on chores. Still need to go to the grocery store. Still haven’t done any “me” activities. Went for the Tylenol, but forgot to actually take it. I finally re-dressed the baby as the kids helped themselves to graham crackers. Crumbs were everywhere.

Finally took the Tylenol.

Kids get hyperactive as I lose attentiveness, and they start fighting with each other. That, in turn, makes my headache worse.

Hold out for my husband to get off work. Thank god for reinforcements.

He took the kids out to the grocery store so I could have a break. Afterwards I made a late dinner, and completely forgot to add any sort of spicing to the meat, including salt. My husband noticed, and corrected the mistake just in the nick of time. Made enchiladas.

My husband got a work-related phone call just as we sat down to eat, and I was back on my own. The kids ate everything except the tortilla, including the baby. I laughed because that’s exactly what my husband does, and they all take so much after their father. Realized I should have put in corn.

I had the kids brush their teeth and get ready for bed. Read a few pages of the Hobbit for their bedtime story. Got tongue-tied quite a lot because I was so tired. Kids didn’t seem to notice. Hugs, kisses, and I-love-yous all around. Bedtime is always the sweetest moment of the day.

Made it.

Muse

Heilung

Autumn

I did not know I needed this in my life until suddenly here it was.