Finding home, finding love – writing romance, making clothes, growing food, and growing up

Adventures in living an authentic creative life


15 Comments

Thirty minutes to change my life?

Another cross post with the group blog, Seven Sassy Sisters!
Here it is-

Time to write.

Isn’t that one of the hardest things for all of us? We’re all buzzing with story ideas. And we all have loads of other demands on our time, whether we’re working crazy hours at the Day Job from Hell, Mums at home with babies and young kids and housework, or somehow incredibly trying to juggle everything at once.

That’s real “I don’t know how she does it” territory for me. I can barely cope with the day job and the commute and the exhaustion. Trying to juggle child care and all that goes with it on top? *shakes head*

Anyway, the reality is that finding time to write is hard. Real life all too easily will chew up all our available time and spit us out wrecked and unsatisfied at the end of a long day with no time for us. No time for the other things that are personally important to us, like writing.
That, for a moody mentalpausal cow like me anyway, is a recipe for anger and frustration. Serious frustration. Shout-at-my-husband-and-hate-his-guts-and-I-want-to-get-a-divorce type frustration.

It’s not his fault he can’t get a job after being made redundant. It’s not his fault I now have to earn for two and the job that pays well enough requires a ninety minute plus commute morning and evening. It’s not his fault that my employers pay well because they expect a lot in return, so I come home wrung-out and brain-fried. It’s not his fault that after a week home by himself all day, when I am home he capers like a three year old going “Look at me, Mummy!” to get my attention.

Okay, maybe that last one is his fault, but it’s understandable. He’s the extrovert who needs to be out there surrounded by people, who wants to be earning money, forced to stay home and be househusband all day. I’m the introvert who wants to stay home all day and write, forced to be out there surrounded by challenging and mentally draining people all day. Whatever, the outcome was an escalating cycle of me coming home determined to find quiet time to write, and him getting more and more needy and demanding the more I tried to shut him out.

Writing on the part of the commute for the part where it’s possible worked a bit. But there are so many other distractions. The newspaper. My email inbox. Just getting into the flow of the story enough. The resentment that this was all the time I had, that writing had to be squeezed into the corners and cracks of my life when I wanted it to be centre stage.

Then Abbi asked a question. Not aimed at me, at everyone. The question was “What will you do?” What are you willing to give up to make the dream a reality? How far will you go to reach your goals? What can you do differently, right now, that will make a difference?
My immediate reaction- I can’t do anything different. I didn’t even think about possibilities. I did think about getting up earlier, but not as an option, as “Well, I’m definitely not going to get up any earlier, that’s for sure! I’m already waaaaaay too tired as it is.”

So what am I doing now? What’s the not-so-big change that’s made a huge difference?

You got it. I’m getting up earlier on work days so I have some dedicated writing time.

Something I thought was impossible, as I already got up early and was always exhausted.

First, I realised I could take a train that left my station over half an hour later but got me to work only five minutes late. I discussed this with my co-workers, and as I rarely take my full lunch break, they were okay with that.

Yay, an extra half an hours sleep! I won’t be so tired all the time, maybe I can write more in the evenings.

Except I didn’t sleep. I was still going to bed pissed off with my life, and sleeping badly. And the automatic alarm clock in my head still woke me up at 5.40am most mornings. I went back to sleep, but woke up feeling tireder than I would have if I’d just gotten up earlier. A little voice started whispering “You could get up and write.” I ignored it. I’d seriously divorce my husband before I’d do that. I’m not a morning person. I hate getting up early. My brain doesn’t work at that time anyway. All those limiting self-beliefs that came out to play.

Then I read Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art. It’s about winning the inner creative battle. How Resistance beats us up on a daily basis, and how we can fight back. He’s a military fiction writer, so his imagery is war-like. He lists the symptoms. Anger and resentment. Blaming others. Unhappiness. I could see how my own resistance to doing the creative work, my fear and that niggling sense I just wasn’t good enough, that my writing was too crap to even bother with, had me feeling trapped. I could blame it on never having enough time. The reality was, I had as much time as anyone else, my resistance was what was stopping me.

As he says, it’s not the writing part that’s hard, it’s the sitting down to write part. The truth was, my writing was coming last in my life.

Not the way I wanted it to be.

So the next morning when I woke up early, I didn’t roll over and go back to sleep. I sat up and turned the laptop on and opened my WiP and wrote. And I set the alarm time for even earlier the following day, so I had a full hour.

It was slow going at first, I’d sit there for an hour with the laptop switched on but my brain switched off, lucky to get 300 words. I’d want to open my emails, read, go back to sleep, do anything but write. I kept reminding myself I wanted writing to be important. Writing had to get dedicated time, not just worn out and left over dregs of time.

Somehow, it’s starting to work. My brain is learning that it can and will write at 5.20am in the morning. The last few days I’ve managed around 1000 words. I’m into the flow of the story, so that I’m using the time in the commute to write. I’m getting ideas for this story instead of new shiny ideas to tempt me away (also a symptom of resistance, BTW). I’m emailing story notes and new paragraphs to myself on my mobile phone when I have a spare five minutes.

Oddly, I seem to be less tired, despite getting up earlier. Definitely a whole lot less frustrated!

I just had a hellish week at work. On call over the weekend, and probably the busiest On Call I’ve had. Short staffed in the office, so I had to work extra hours. Normally I’d be angry. Angry at my job, angry at my husband, angry at myself for being in this situation. So angry that when I sat down to write I wouldn’t be able to, and I’d end up using my computer time doing comfort shopping on ebay instead. Shouting at my husband for interrupting me when I’m supposed to be writing, then getting defensive when he quite rightly pointed out I was on ebay.

This week wasn’t like that. I got tired, I got grumpy at times, I was soooooo glad when Friday evening came and I came off call and could switch off my phone. So I didn’t get home from work until after nine? It didn’t matter so much, because I already had over a thousand story words in the bag for the day.

Bam! Pow! Wallop! Take that, Resistance! Gotcha, right in the kisser!

I’m getting up half an hour earlier, but the result is a whole lot more than an extra hour writing time in my day.

Of course, it’s easier in Summer when the sun is up by 4.30 anyway. Winter, who knows, I may have more trouble dragging my lazy ass out of bed. On the other hand, it’s only half an hour. Resistance can’t seduce me with its false advertising promises of how that half hour extra sleep will improve my life. I have too much evidence for the opposite. Also, it will be a habit by then.

Apparently the “Twenty-one days to form a habit” idea may be a bit optimistic. That’s true for very simple changes. Bigger changes can take as long as sixty six days to get as habitual as they ever will. I’m hoping by Winter, I’ll just keep hopping out of bed when the alarm goes off, powering up the laptop, and diving into my story world.

Because it looks like that thirty minutes less sleep really might be changing my life.

This is what works for me, but everyone has their own solutions.

How do you make time to write? How do you deal with Resistance, whatever form it takes for you? How do you drag the hands of the clock back to wring more time for yourself out of a busy day?

Wanted to add a link to this excellent series of articles on achieving goals I found on PsyBlog. Very relevant, and some of the content surprised me!


21 Comments

SuperRomance Memorial Day winners announced!

And no surprises, my entry wasn’t one of the two chosen.

But I’m pleased to see that my eye is good, as the winner was my top pick and the runner up was in my top three. One Soldier Too Many won, and Return to Ala Moana Beach was second.

Congratulations to Kathi and Toni! Looking forward to reading more of your fab stories!

Okay, now the rest of us can ‘fess up about which stories ours were. I’m longing to know who wrote my other favourites.

Mine is For the Love of Mikey. Good thing I didn’t win though, as I decided last night to change chapter one!


Leave a comment

Layering Conflict- When is Enough, Enough

I’m feeling a bit frustrated with my Memorial Day Challenge story and not wanting to write much.

I think if it’s not chosen as one they want to see more of (announced tomorrow afternoon, my time), I might go back to Cady and Lock.

Jack and Kate’s internal conflict feels a bit pathetic. It’s like if someone (maybe his Mom) sat them down and said “Can’t you see he’s crazy about you/ he’s crazy about you?” that would be that for the conflict.

There’s a bit more to it than that, hopefully a lot more to it than that, but that’s the surface layer and it feels weak.

I don’t want to fall in my usual trap of overcomplicating things, but them both feeling rejected because neither of them knew how to handle it when they kissed in their teens so they both played it way too cool is simply not enough to keep two people so right for each other apart!

Next layer- she needs him to keep what is most important in her life, custody of her nephew Mikey. So how does he know she wants him for himself, and it’s not just gratitude.  She knows he promised her brother he’d look after Mikey, so how does she know he really wants her and isn’t just doing the right thing for Mikey and easing his guilt over her brother, and over not being there to help when her sister-in-law was dying.

But there’s more again beneath that- she has so much grief in her recent past, she can’t risk loving anyone else, especially someone set on going back to a war zone. He has this incredible guilt that her brother died and not him. He can’t stay away from his team, because how will he live with himself if more of them die because he’s not there. He has to go back, it’s his whole reason for still being alive.

I guess that should be enough. My old bad habit used to be heaping in more and more external conflict, which just made a huge hot mess of a story. Now I’m aiming to layer deepening internal conflicts. I hope I’m getting it right this time!

I feel better about getting back to the writing now.

And I just realised, what I am really doing is giving into resistance and avoiding the challenge of writing the scene I know will be hard for me, the funny one.  Strange that since I worked out yesterday that’s what I need to do, I’ve found all sorts of reasons not to write! Or not so strange. Understandable really.

I’ve been reading this-The War Of Art: Winning the Inner Creative Battle this week. Powerful stuff. He issues a full-on head-to-head challenge to writers and anyone working creatively to look at the ways they avoid doing the work.

I guess I better go write that scene.

I also guess I better post date this post so it doesn’t appear until tomorrow, seeing I’ve broken the rules by saying which entry was mine. Can’t wait to find out who wrote the entries I loved most!

I also want to study the Super I read last week after I subbed my entry- Beth Andrews’ A Marine for Christmas. A good read! There are some similarities between her heroine and mine- both in the past have been ditsy and irresponsible, now deciding to take on the big responsibilities fate throws at them.

I really want to look at the story structure, pacing. What happens where, where do the turning points fall in the stories, how does she infuse some humor into what is a pretty terrible situation no matter which way you look at it?

I hope that doesn’t count as Resistance too.

I guess it is, as is writing this post, but it’s far more useful procrastination than looking at things on eBay. At least this little bit or procrastination made me properly articulate my characters’ conflicts. That’s my short synopsis half written then!


5 Comments

Telling via dialogue

One of the golden rules of writing we all get banged into our heads- “show don’t tell”. I am the queen of “tell not show” in my writing!

I knew I still had issues with this, but realised a whole new way I’m guilty of it this week.

Telling via dialogue tags, the old faithfuls like he said sadly, she said angrily, I’m aware of and know I need to change. They have their place, but used too much they definitely are telling not showing. Vicki Essex, about-to-be-published SuperRomance writer, says -

Actions speak louder than words. Try showing the reader a character’s thoughts and feelings through a shuffling of feet, the fisting of hands, instead of with dialogue tags.

She has a great short piece here about this- People are Not All Head and Shoulders.

 The other thing I notice is I write whole scenes that are nothing but dialogue. For short sections, that rapid ping-pong back-and-forth of just dialogue is great. It’s fast and pacy to read. But when it goes on too long without enough physical action and interaction with the environment breaking it up, my characters can feel like two disembodied heads talking in space. But I already knew about that too.

The big thing I only just realised I’m doing with these long scenes in dialogue is “telling via dialogue”. A whole new way for me to “Tell not show! It’s not just in this story, it’s in many of the stories I’ve written. I start off well, then there’s this chapter that’s nothing but the hero and heroine sitting in a room talking.

It’s not the oh-so-obvious infordumpy ”As you know, your three year older brother David ran away with my wife Susanna…” type telling via dialogue (at least, I hope and pray I’m not doing that!), but having one character tell the other about something that happened or is happening or is about to happen.

Sometimes that’s what’s needed. If it needs to be in there but isn’t something that would add to the story shown as a scene, it’s best just to summarise and move on. But I noticed in my current story, the Memorial Day Challenge one, times when maybe what happened would be better written as a scene in its own right.

What made me realise it is right there in Chapter One of my current story. The hero’s been asleep and the heroine tells him what happened while he was napping. It’s just a few lines, not taking up much space. It needs to be there, because it tells the reader a lot about the heroine and the mess she’s got herself into. But why didn’t I write it as a scene?

Because it would be a funny scene, in that funny-painful kind of way, like hitting your funny bone. I don’t write funny well, I really don’t think I do. I’m not very good at humor. Obviously, my writing mind knows this and neatly sidestepped the issue by letting me tell instead of show. And it did it in a way I can almost kid myself is NOT telling, because it’s in dialogue so it must be okay, right?

Well, maybe, or maybe I’m shortchanging my story, stopping it from being all it can be because I’m scared of trying and failing to write what I don’t do well.

Funny-painful is exactly what my story needs. It’s going to be too heavy and gloomy otherwise, as there’s a lot of past losses and  dealing with grief and dealing with guilt and dealing with the threat of even more loss in it. It’s got to have the humour to lighten it.

I need to push myself harder. I have to write what I don’t want to write. I need to write those scenes out to see if it makes the story better and stronger, and helps get me out of those talking heads type scenes.

Stories that are nice and easy to write, do not get read. Good writing can be hard work.

I need to do it. I need to be willing to do the work, get down and dirty in emotions, in pain, yes, even in humour.

I’m not sure how to do that. May need to re-read some of the authors who do “funny-painful” well. Read as a writer, not a reader, to see how they did it.

Then rewrite my “telling through dialogue” so it “shows” a bit more.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 524 other followers