prevail

A Running Start

/ Tracy Abell

One of my favorite writing strategies is to take a running start at a manuscript, a technique that works for me both in the drafting and revising stages.

How do I define a running start?

A running start is sometimes merely rereading the work from the previous day in order to find my rhythm so that I can continue in that flow. Most days that’s all I need in order to keep going.

Other days, however, the nasty voices whisper so loudly in my head I worry that writing in that mindset will result in me inflicting big-time damage on my manuscript. I’m talking crash-and-burn, holy-hell-how-did-we-end-up-on-this-tangent kinda damage OR, worse-case scenario, convincing myself that the only logical response to the crap I’ve put down on paper is to give up on the project, my writing, and all dreams. Forever.

Those are the days in which my running start requires that I go back to page one and read everything I’ve written/revised thus far.

Image from morguefile.com

Image from morguefile.com

Today was a nasty voices day. So I read the 50+ pages of revised manuscript and, as predicted, my literary goblin’s voice faded away. I liked what I read. I was proud of what I’d written and felt a renewed enthusiasm for the project. I made progress on the revision.

It’s important to note that there are multiple decisions required of this strategy. I have to ask myself two questions:
1) Is this a regular running start kinda day or a Page One running start day?
If I immediately know the answer, it’s all good. If not, I ask myself the following:
2) Are the nasty voices so relentless they will dominate no matter what I try?
If the answer is Yes, it’s best to not even fight back. No running start, no writing, no thinking about the project.

There’s always another day and another perspective.

Starting Over, One Word At a Time

/ Tracy Abell

I’m revising the YA I’ve been working on off-and-on for years. There are a whole bunch of reasons for the delays and procrastination but the main takeaway is that because of the down-time, I was intimidated about jumping back into it. Then I read about one writer’s approach to getting back into a story: she retypes the entire manuscript.

I decided to give it a try.
_DSC4819

I’m taking it chapter by chapter, retyping from the last hard copy I printed out. So far, I agree with the writer who suggested it that retyping helps me revise on a deeper level than if I were only working with what was already there. In other words, my revisions would be more superficial if I was working with a hard copy and pen. Retyping seems to highlight issues such as where the text bogs down and any character inconsistencies. Most importantly, something about putting those words down, again, is helping reconnect me to the story. And in the process, it’s helping shine a light on what needs to change.

Every book I’ve written has taken a different path. There are days when I’m not sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse. This method, at least, is allowing me to move ahead.

Still Here: A Story of Daffodils and Me

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

In the fall of 2006, I was a mentee at the Rutgers One-On-One Conference where Laurie Halse Anderson was the keynote speaker. In addition to offering smart and funny insights into her writing journey, she offered us daffodil bulbs. True story.

Last Friday, I took this photo of my LHA flowers that keep on blooming, year after year:
Daffodils

The next day, it started snowing. And over the next twenty-four hours, more than two feet of snow fell on those daffodils.

Me several feet away from buried daffodils.

Me several feet away from the buried daffodils.

If I’d been thinking, I would’ve covered the flowers with a bucket to protect them from the elements. Alas, I didn’t think that far ahead. So now they’re beneath the rapidly melting snow where they may or may not recover from the shock of an April blizzard in Colorado.

I share a kinship with those flowers that goes beyond them symbolizing my connection to the children’s writing community. The daffodils and I have been on a nine-year journey together. Every year they push through the soil to face whatever comes their way, not knowing whether they’ll be greeted with sunshine or flurries. And every year I continue writing my stories, not knowing whether they’ll be greeted with warmth or snowy rejection.

It’s a risky business for those flowers and me, but we keep on doing what we need to do. And year after year, we prevail.
Prevail bracelet 010

 

Thread Count

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

I am revising. Again.
(John Irving once said, “Half my life is an act of revision,” and Tracy Abell says, “Amen to that.”) My critique group The Writing Roosters gave me feedback on my middle-grade novel, and I began revising accordingly because they’re pretty wise and much of what they said resonated with me.

So far so good.

Then I got a read from my writer nephew who also had a handful of very wise insights. And yesterday I spent hours reworking one earlier scene over and over again until I’d finally gotten it right. I congratulated myself and moved on, only to realize that the subtle changes I’d made in that one scene have to be reflected in later scenes.

Ah, the curse of a tightly woven story.

file2081245101017 (2)Whenever I tug on one thread, there are repercussions throughout, and one of these days I hope to remember that. In the meanwhile, I’ll get back to these seemingly never-ending layers of revision and keep passing the open windows.

Writing, Running, & Ruminating

/ Tracy Abell

Yesterday I sent off the manuscript for the first book of mine that will be published. It’s a short work-for-hire book about composting and how to build a compost tumbler. (One of my critique partners (yo, LP!) is a nonfiction goddess who guided me every step of the way as I applied to the editorial company. Thank you, friend!)

One of the hardest parts of that writing process was switching from my fiction brain to my nonfiction brain. Plus there was the research that triggered my ADD tendencies, writing to a lower reading level, explaining complex concepts in a simplified format, footnoting and formatting, glossary terms and pronunciation keys . . . Suffice to say there was a steep learning curve and a few tears of frustration.

learning curve back and forth

But I put my head down to push through the doubts and nasty voices, and I prevailed. Plus, I (mostly) kept to my promise to myself and worked on my middle-grade novel revisions every day. I learned to bounce from fiction to nonfiction and back again. And it felt like a real accomplishment to hit SEND when I emailed my manuscript yesterday.

This morning Zippy and I went out for our run on the trails. As we took off, I mentioned how I wished we could take a different route out there in the open space. I love the trails and they’re kinder to my body than pavement as I pound out the miles, but lately I’ve noticed my mind wanders when I run. And my mind shouldn’t wander when there are rocks and knapweed and eroded trail segments to navigate. But it wanders because I’m comfortable with my route; I’ve run it so often I can close my eyes and visualize exactly where the rabbit brush stalk sticks out onto the trail and how far up the trail past the turn-off it is that I need to side-step a cluster of partially submerged rocks.

So today Zippy took the lead and he mixed it up. He took us on side trails and detours, but the biggest change was we ran parts of the route in reverse. Which meant I was running downhill where I’m usually straining to run uphill, and struggling up the steep inclines where I’m used to flying down the trail.

TrulyErgonomic_LearningCurve

Talk about a learning curve. I thought my brain was going to explode! (Not to mention the other very real concern that I was about to barf up a lung).

Well, I eventually made it home and recovered enough to have today’s deep thought:

It’s good to step outside my comfort zone because doing so allows me to learn new skills and expand my muscles (whether brain or brawn). Becoming more flexible ain’t always pretty, but it’s necessary.

Revision = To See Again

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

John Irving wrote in the opening to Trying to Save Piggy Sneed,
“Half my life is an act of revision.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I share Mr. Irving’s love of revision. I enjoy blue ink on paper, deleting the fat and plumping up the skinny parts. I love drilling down to find the essence of what I want to convey.

Right now I’m revising the first several chapters of my YA. Again. I recently received stellar editorial input on my opening pages that has allowed a minor miracle: I am reading the pages with new eyes. I’ve already worked and worked and worked some more on those chapters, yet this editor’s input changed my perception of what was there on the page. It’s as if her reaction to what she read is forcing me to “defend” each and every word, every motivation. I’m no longer reading the pages with the mindset of someone who knows the entire story and all the backstory, but as a brand new reader! I didn’t think it was possible to read stuff I’d already read gazillions of times with fresh eyes, but it is. It really is.

Wow. Amazing stuff. Yet I’m alternating between thinking, “This is so cool that I have this new heightened awareness!” and “What is wrong with me that it’s taken so long to achieve this awareness that any writer worth her laser printer should already have?!”

So, in an effort to be kinder to myself, I’m focusing on this quote from Ernest Hemingway:
“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.”

Take that, nasty voice! I will prevail.
Prevail bracelet 010

Seeing Things and Doing Things

/ Tracy Abell

Saw this beauty sunning itself on deck rail and captured with telephoto lens:
Doves + Maple leaves + Christmas cactus 002

The maple leaves are turning and I leaned over deck rail for a close-up look:
Doves + Maple leaves + Christmas cactus 009

The Christmas cactus sits next to the window so I zoomed in on its delicate beauty:
Doves + Maple leaves + Christmas cactus 015

Haven’t only been looking at lovely stuff, but am keeping my oath and making great progress on the final scenes of my YA. The End is in sight!

I Am Not My Brain (and Other Insights)

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

Three weeks ago today I wrote about going on my first run in a long, long time.
Today I am writing about not being able to run. Again.

When I received the go-ahead from my PT dude to ease back into running, I ran a total of four times. The first two runs were completely pain-free. During the third and fourth runs, my left Achilles tendon was sore. Not excruciatingly sore, but it did hurt. I backed off, but I should’ve backed off sooner.

Shoulda-woulda-coulda.

I’m now on forced rest and cannot even take walks because that’s enough to fire up
the ol’ tendon. Joy in the land. Last week during my PT appointment I was so discouraged
by what felt like a never-ending cycle of injury jumping from one body part to another, that I smacked my kind PT dude in frustration.

Yesterday I had another appointment, and I started with an apology. I then explained that while my tendon was still giving me trouble, I had a better attitude.

What happened? YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN happened.

You Are Not Your Brain cover image

YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN is a book that’s helped me recognize the false messages my brain sends me, messages I’ve internalized over the years until they were hard-wired in my circuitry. The book is helping me rewire my brain so I’m not held hostage by that nasty voice. Basically, YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN is a highly readable how-to on neuroplasticity. (Say it with me, people: neuroplasticity!)

Testimonial: Monday afternoon I lifted weights (an activity I’m easing back into) and as I stood in front of the full-length mirror that helps me maintain good form while lifting, I felt a wave of all sorts of yucky thoughts and feelings around the fact that I’m weak and now must lift much lighter weights and have put on some pounds and don’t look so hot in my workout togs. The thought of starting over to get back to my strong and fit self felt like too much; I felt ugly and weak and worthless and overwhelmed by the entire situation.

And then I reined myself in and talked to my brain. I followed the steps and began the process of rewiring my brain by lifting weights while maintaining eye contact in the mirror. I didn’t look anywhere but in my eyes, because that’s where my true self was evident. Not in my waist or thighs or arms. My eyes. I smiled into my blue peepers and lifted those weights, knowing that by taking action I was drowning out that voice and making it harder for it to reappear. It will come back, it always does, but each time I take positive action while that voice yammers at me, the voice loses power over me.

Tracy taped tendonIn the meanwhile, I’m rocking the RockTape and trying to focus on how far I’ve come. I won’t be running the Bolder Boulder next month and am still royally frustrated with my limitations, but I’m trying hard not to take those personally.

One step at a time.

 

 

Not Ready to Quit

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

I’ve been at this writing thing for a while, working toward publication. There have been highs and lows throughout the journey, validation followed by rejection. It’s been tough, but I’ve always been tougher. Something inside wouldn’t let me quit. Something inside knew I did not want to give up.

Several weeks ago, I began to seriously consider quitting.

Seriously, as in, I actually said out loud, “I’m thinking about quitting.” And I spoke those words to a new non-writer acquaintance who’d asked about my writing. That was a huge moment, because during all the years of writing in the bleachers during Zebu’s basketball games and being asked by other parents if I was a teacher grading papers, I always said, “No, I’m a writer.” If they asked more questions, I’d let them know I was writing novels for kids and when the inevitable question came, I’d say, “No, I haven’t been published yet.” And it was okay. There was a core of steel in me that allowed me to have those conversations. I knew I’d keep writing until my stories were published. I knew I’d prevail.

Nothing specific happened in the past month or so to shake my convictions, but somehow I felt I’d reached my limit. As in, maybe it was time to quit putting my work out there to be judged because maybe, just maybe, it was unhealthy to continue making myself vulnerable to others’ opinions. Sending out a manuscript is like offering my heart on a plate so that it can be stabbed, sometimes repeatedly.

So I gave myself a little break. A break from writing and a break from decision-making about writing for publication. I kept reading, though. One of the books I read was a YA from an author who’d written one of the best books I’d read in 2013, an author who sells gazillions of books and seems to be an awesome person. The YA I read was a huge disappointment. Weak, weak, weak. I was flabbergasted. And slightly annoyed. I knew better than to write a protagonist who doesn’t change and secondary characters who serve as placeholders and plot lines that go nowhere, fizzling out into big nothings. Why do I know that? Because I know how to write.

And just like that I knew I wasn’t ready to quit writing for publication. Not because I have any delusions about knocking that author off the best-seller list. And not because I’m angry with the publishing world that has, thus far, excluded me from the club. I’ve gone back to work on my YA because I want to continue doing what I know how to do, and to continue learning how to do that even better.

I am a writer. And no, I haven’t yet been published. Whatever.

Image from MorgueFile.com by Alvimann

Image from MorgueFile.com by Alvimann

We Laughed and You Rolled Up Your Sleeves

/ Tracy Abell

Just received some news from a friend. Her email got me thinking of the day I ran down the battery on my hybrid vehicle and how my friend was more than willing to get under the hood, uh, trunk, to set things right again.DSC00491

You can do this, sister. But just in case you forget, I got your back.

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line…

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Our local high school holds a 5k fundraising run in August, orchestrated by the cross country coach and team. We started running it the year Wildebeest ran cross country. It’s a tough course with some downhill early on and then the ups and downs that follow the neighborhood topography before a brutal uphill starting on the street and then over rocks and grass to finish up on the soccer field. It’s the kind of finish you don’t want anyone seeing you complete because you’re sure a lung will pop out of your chest or that you’re moving so slowly spectators will think you’re frozen in time.

I don’t like that kind of humiliation so last summer I trained on that last half-mile a bunch of times, pushing up the hill as hard as I could then jogging down before doing it again. I felt confident I’d finish strong when I ran that course in August. Except I ended up not being able to run because my mom needed assistance out of town. Oy.

So today was my third time running the course. I’ve been running consistently all summer but never went back to work that hill again. I regretted that. Today, after running two strong miles, I began to fade on the third. By the time I hit that last bit, I was whupped. And after looking at my watch and seeing the slow time, I decided “What the hell, I’m walking.” One of the other school’s cross country coaches** was there to cheer on his kids and when he saw me walking, ran up alongside me, exhorting me to run again. Which I did. Until he dropped off and then I walked again. Until he came up next to me again and got me running some more. Until he dropped back.

I think I walked two or three times in that race, something I NEVER do. And when I crossed the finish line I thought two things: Glad that race is over! AND The only thing that will redeem this race is if I win one of the raffle prizes.

Fast forward to the raffle portion of the post-race festivities when the cross country coach announced the top male and female racers in the Citizen category (Citizens are anyone over 18 years). The cross country coach announced my name and after a stunned moment, I walked to the front and said, “There’s no way. This was my slowest time on this course.”*** I convinced the officials they’d made a mistake and went back to my place in the crowd while they checked data again. But a few minutes later, the coach was next to me. “Can you come look at this? I think you’re our top female finisher.”

And I was.Tracy's Ram Run trophy 002

** this coach was formerly at our school and is responsible for Wildebeest’s knee problem after having him run 17 miles on concrete so I have some, what shall I call them, mixed feelings about the coach’s enthusiasm for running. 

*** this year was indeed my slowest time but after checking I realized it was only 41 seconds slower than my fastest time. Huh.

Oh yeah, and I also won a free jersey and pair of running shoes. Score!

The Agnes Toolbox

/ Tracy Abell

       

Agnes 6.10.12

Okay.
I know I have talent, but I'm for sure also wielding my perseverance
(although I hope not in a bludgeon-esque manner).

                 

The Tale of Two Talismans

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

Once upon a time there was a woman who experienced a ping when she came across the word PREVAIL, and adopted it as her personal motto.

But because she wanted and needed a constant reminder
that she would PREVAIL, she contacted  at Silver Freckles.

More than two years went by and the woman wore her beautiful bracelet every day, and it motivated her as she ran and wrote, parented, gardened, and lived her life.

Then one day not too long ago, the woman happened across a wise post from  that included this:

” . . . when I sit down to write, I need to do it with actual commitment.
This means a few different things. First, that I need to make the commitment
to sit down and do the work. Second, that when I sit down to do the work,
I need to be willing to really and truly go wherever it is that I need to go for that particular piece.”

Another ping went off in the woman’s head.
So once again, she contacted at Silver Freckles.

And now the woman has two shiny reminders of how she’d like to live her life:
COMMIT to what it is she wants to do and then PREVAIL in her efforts.

So that’s the tale of the two talismans.
And the woman? Well, she’s living happily ever after.

Hey, That’s My Line!

/ Tracy Abell

As many of you know,
I am partial to the word PREVAIL.

It is my rallying cry and motto,
my personal talisman.

So it was hard enough discovering PREVAIL
is also a brand of adult underwear.

But now this?!

I have to share my glorious PREVAIL
with these poster boys for All That Is Wrong With This Country?!
(Just to be clear, I’d be equally sickened if it was Obama
or any other enabler of the 1% on the cover).

Ah, well.
PREVAIL means To be or become effective; win out. To succeed. To triumph.

I know what I must do,
and if I begin to lose my way
there’s always a reminder.

 

Hey, That’s My Line!

/ Tracy Abell

            

As many of you know,
I am partial to the word PREVAIL.

It is my rallying cry and motto,
my personal talisman.

So it was hard enough discovering PREVAIL 
is also a brand of adult underwear.

But now this?!

I have to share my glorious PREVAIL 
with these poster boys for All That Is Wrong With This Country?!
(Just to be clear, I'd be equally sickened if it was Obama
or any other enabler of the 1% on the cover).

Ah, well.
PREVAIL means To be or become effective; win out. To succeed. To triumph.

I know what I must do,
and if I begin to lose my way
there's always a reminder.


 
                                                 

I Can’t Let This Manuscript Die!

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

        
This second draft is giving me fits 
and I'm suddenly the Queen of Procrastination
as I look for something, anything to do besides revise.

But my project is like this shark:
if I don't keep moving foward
there is a good chance the book will die.


                                                                                        image from morguefile.com

Must. Give. It. Oxygen.

                  

Friday Five: The Determination Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 14 Comments

1) I am ever so slowly making my way through the second draft of my middle-grade,

2) revising, rewording, reshaping, and re-visioning the story

3) that seemed so straight forward when it whispered in my ear, begging for attention,

4) but for some reason is now taunting me and laughing at my attempts to rein it in.

5) But the joke’s on my feisty muse because I WILL COMPLETE THIS SECOND DRAFT!


image from morguefile.com

May all you also prevail in your wrestling matches, literary or otherwise!
Have a grand weekend!

Friday Five: The Scrivener Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 25 Comments

                 

In honor of massively computer-challenged Me learning how to use Scrivener for Windows

(writing software adored by oodles of writers), here are some glimpses into my journey:
 
                                                                                            image from morguefile.com
 
1) Yesterday I shed tears of frustration and pulled my hair. Literally.
 
2)  Today I teared up a tiny bit when faced with something I absolutely did not understand,
and then wiped away those tears and told myself "You might not even need to know that."
 
3)  My mantra: Even if I master only a tiny percentage of what this program can do, 
that tiny percentage will be huge in comparison to what I knew about Scrivener last week.
 
4)  The thought of writing with a "corkboard" and "index cards" has kept me going, and sure enough,
those are the features I’m "mastering" and will be able to use right from the start.
 
5)  I’m sure it doesn’t count for anything but I feel better prepared to learn this software
having read Melville’s Bartleby, the Scrivener in my sophomore English class.
 
Anyone else out there have an emotion-laden time learning this software?
(For those who mastered it without a problem, it’s probably best to keep that to yourself.)
 
                       

On Running and Writing

/ Tracy Abell / 15 Comments

                 

Zebu and Wildebeest are distance runners on the track team.

They have a teammate who started the season training with the sprinters.
One evening Zebu told me this kid (I’ll call him Whiz), accidentally missed the turnoff
for the sprinters during that day’s practice and instead ran the distance practice (4-5 miles).
With awe in his voice, Zebu said, "He kept up the whole way."

A couple weeks ago, the coach needed to fill some slots because of injuries and
put Whiz into an 800 meter race (two laps around the track which equals one half-mile).
Whiz won his heat.

 

A few days later, Whiz was on the 4 X 800 relay (each runner does two laps and

then passes a baton to the next runner on team).
The boy passing the baton to Whiz accidentally stepped on the back of Whiz’s shoe and 
Whiz spent valuable seconds trying to get the shoe back on his foot before kicking it off
and running his two laps with one shoe on and one shoe off.
Whiz’s time in that race beat Zebu’s best time.
 
This past weekend, Whiz ran his first 1600 meter race (four laps which equals one mile).
He ran it in 5:11, beating Zebu and Wildebeest’s best times.
 
Zebu is proud of Whiz, a fellow freshman and super nice kid, 
but is also flabbergasted by his ability to run so fast without all the miles
Zebu and Wildebeest have logged in their training.
 
I can relate.
Not just in my own running, but in my writing life, too.
 
I told Zebu that there are Naturals and there are Work Horses
(and, of course, Naturals who work very, very hard to get even better). 
 
I told him about the hardworking top-runner on my high school cross country team
who was knocked from her number-one spot by a freshman girl who just showed up
and blew everyone else away.
 
Then I said, "It’s a lot like the journey to publication. There are some people who write 
the perfect book at the perfect time, and their careers take off. Then there are those
who have to work hard for a long, long time to get there. I’m one of those work horses."
 
His silence told me maybe I shouldn’t have put it in those terms. 
Zebu’s had an up-close and sometimes painful window into my quest for publication,
and my unpublished status probably makes me a not-so-good poster child for Work Horses.
 
It’s true.
I’ve worked long and I’ve worked hard, and publication still hasn’t happened for me.
But whenever I wonder whether it’s time to let go of the dream, 
I think about my kids witnessing my efforts over the years.
And while I know hard work is no guarantee of success, 
I also know I don’t want them to think of me as The Work Horse Who Never Reached Her Goal.
 
So I guess that means, at least for the time being, I’ll keep doing what it takes.
I’ll be the Work Horse with one shoe on and one shoe off,
running hard for that finish line.
 
              

Courage

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

                   

I salute the people of Egypt.

Your courage is inspirational
and your resolve is awe-inspiring.

You did PREVAIL.


                                                         Photograph: Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images