My New Motto

    

I’m reading this:

If you’re not familiar with this book, I highly recommend it.
Ralph Keyes picks you up off the floor, dusts you off, and sends you back to work.

As I read a bit last night before falling asleep,
I came across the word "prevail."
I felt a ping in my head.
The guy who narrates my morning yoga routine
also says "prevail."
And I love it when he does
because it makes me feel strong and powerful.

So after much thought,
I’ve decided to officially adopt it as my own official word:

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PREVAIL

To be or become effective; win out.
To succeed.
To triumph.

I’m thinking about tattooing it on my forehead.

Okay, not really.
But I am wondering if anyone else out there
has a motivating word or phrase.
If so, how do you display/utilize it in your own life?

                          

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Hard Work

On Saturday I reintroduced the 1000 Words/Day rule
which puts me at 3000 words on my WIP.
I’m also shooting for the 1 Chapter/Day rule on my revisions.
So far, so good.

We all know the writing life can be difficult.
At times we feel as if we’re banging our heads on walls.
Guess what?

This flicker literally bangs his head.  Everyday.  For hours and hours.

And because today is another WINDY day in Colorado, he’s banging his head
in HIGH winds (notice ruffled feathers on head and back)

Now that’s hard work.

         

Fueled by Guts

I’m working on the intimidating middle section of my book. 
Feeling overwhelmed.  Full of despair.

Gave myself a pep talk and told myself I could do it.
Gave myself permission to write crap.

Wrote.
Quite possibly crap. 

Nonetheless, relieved to write for two days in a row.
Celebrating the baby steps.

Gotta keep digging deep and gutting it out.
Ugh.

        

Dig Deep!

Just ran my final speed workout before the Bolder Boulder on Memorial Day.  I didn’t want to do it.  But I put on my running togs and drove to the Jeffco Stadium track.

It was chilly.  It was windy.  I was not enthusiastic.  But (there’s that but again) I warmed up and stretched and then started the workout.

Five 1000m (1K) intervals (2.5 laps) at faster than 10K race-pace with 3.5 minutes rest in between.  Oy.

It was really hard work but I did it.  Not only that, but my last two intervals were faster than the third.   And that’s because I dug down deep  and pushed myself to the finish.

Which brings me to the reason for this post. 

As I jogged my cool-down, feeling so proud of myself, I started thinking of all my writer friends who work hard at their craft yet have days when they doubt their abilities to finish a project or question whether they’re producing anything worthwhile or even if they should just call it quits on the whole writing thing. 

Well, I’m here to tell you to complete that poem!  Finish those novel revisions!  Send out that query letter!  Start that chapter book or graphic novel or screenplay or essay, and don’t stop until you have a first draft!

It’s all there inside you.  You have the strength and inspiration and guts needed to get the job done.  So dig deep, believe in yourself, and accomplish whatever it is you want to do!

              

On basketball and writing

Zebu and I have a lot in common these days.  After years of playing on the same rec league team, he’s now playing on two competitive basketball teams (I know, Basketball R Us).  And for the first time, he’s not a starter; he’s the last or second-to-last kid rotated into games.  Two nights ago I watched him matched up beneath the net with a kid about six inches taller and twenty pounds heavier, and had tears in my eyes.   Zebu was working hard for position, knowing if he messed up, the coach might pull him out and make him watch the action from the bench.

And as I sat there fighting the tears, I realized I was weepy for both of us; Zebu’s been working hard to prove himself to his coaches and I’m trying to produce a book an editor will fall in love with and buy.  

There have been some low moments over the past few months.  We have both cried.

Last night Zebu played in a championship game.  He played well.  He showed his coaches what he was capable of and played an important role in the team’s victory.  Zebu went to bed with a smile on his face.

So today I’m going to keep revising my novel, pushing back against the outside forces trying to knock me out of position and throw me off my game.  And if need be, I won’t hesitate to throw an elbow.

                

Agnes, again

Oops.  I thought we’d reached the end of the storyline about Agnes writing her first novel.  I was wrong:

Agnes by Tony Cochran

The obvious reaction would be to scoff at Agnes for her lack of gumption.  She’s a quitter!  I mean, of course a novel requires lots of words and of course writing those many, many words can sometimes feel like drudgery.  But then I thought back to what I’d accomplished on my revisions over the past two days and realized that I, too, am a sentencist.   I spent hours writing and rewriting the same lines, trying to find the tone and rhythm I need in order to revise the entire novel.  My word count for those days is pretty minuscule.  On the other hand, I finally produced the sentences I needed in order to move forward.

For the time being, I’m satisfied with my status as sentencist; I just have to remember that eventually those sentences need to come together to form a novel and that ideally the novel will be completed in this lifetime.

                

Waste-Not Wednesday tip

A MIND IS A TERRIBLE THING TO WASTE.

That’s what I wanted to post late this afternoon.  It was the only thing I could handle posting because although I had all sorts of ideas for today’s environmental tip, I couldn’t wrangle the words.  I just could not wrangle words into a coherent paragraph.  I felt like the world’s worst writer.

Then I forced myself to leave my family for the evening and head to the library with my laptop.

Guess what?  I wrote about 3k words and am now past my JoNoWriMo+1.5 goal of a 38k-words middle grade novel.  Don’t worry, I realize that exceeding my word count goal is about as meaningful as still having checks in my checkbook when there ain’t no money in the account.  But I’m a helluva lot closer.

I understand I’ve got to keep writing until The End.  I’m just grateful I didn’t waste this Wednesday.

                            

Days Fifteen – Nineteen: JoNoWriMo+1.5

It’s been crazy around my household this past week. In spite of the various ups and downs, I kept to my word goal although I won’t vouch for the quality of anything written. This might possibly be the suckiest draft in the history of the world but I’m forging ahead. At this point I’m writing scenes out of order. I never do this. Maybe once or twice in other books I wrote one scene out of order but not the way I’m doing now which is to basically fend off that icky brain-creep paralysis by writing whatever it takes to get me to my word count. So while it might all be dreck, I’m at least establishing a habit by writing each and every day. That part does feel good.

But man oh man, this writing gig can really take it out of a person. Yesterday I realized it’s already October which means I’m nearing the end of yet another year in which I didn’t sell a book and then I think about January 1st and how I’ll soon be staring down that whole hopes and dreams and goals routine for the new year wherein I continue to flail about wondering if I’m incapable of producing anything anyone wants to read, and the whole situation makes me want to curl up in a ball and disappear.

May I just say “Shit on a stick!” and “Crap on a cracker!”? (And feel free to share any of your favorite expressions so I don’t feel too juvenile.)

Anyway, I’m posting my stats here so I can at least remember that I’m honoring my word count goal while I battle the demons in my head:

Day 15: 321 words
Day 16: 511 words
Day 17: 516 words
Day 18: 440 words
Day 19: 739 words

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
20,733 / 38,000
(54.6%)

Writing slowly

Sometimes it’s easy getting caught up in envy for other writers’ processes, especially the Stephen King-esque writers who hammer out manuscripts at an astonishing rate.  

Last night I found out (again) why I’m not that kind of writer.  I was feeling frustrated and anxious about the scene I was writing (or as [info]idaho_laurie so aptly put it, I felt twitchy) until I went back a few pages to where the writing felt good and then, with a running start, read to what I’d just written. 

It took a couple reads but then the problem was suddenly so obvious.  And the fix was very easy.

Now, if I’d caved into those demon voices that ridicule me for producing just hundreds of words per day, that taunt me because I’m nearing forty-five and still haven’t sold a book, that admonish me to get the lead out and produce something marketable, well, I’d either have curled up in the fetal position or started pounding the keyboard in a panicked attempt to write pages and pages just to prove I was a real writer writing a real book in a take that, demon voices! kind of way.

I’m so glad I didn’t.  I know from past experiences that it’s so much harder for me to rescue a book from tangents and mis-placed emphasis than it is to write at a slow but solid pace.

I need to remember that this fall when I participate in JoNoWriMo+1.5; a couple hundred solid words per day, every day, is a perfectly fine way to draft a book.

 

Faulkner’s Got My Back

It’s been a hard writerly slog the past couple weeks, both mentally and emotionally, but I’m grateful for the image of William Faulkner protecting the sacred circle surrounding my WIP and me.  He’s doing a helluva job keeping those demon voices at bay.  Sure, they slip in now and again but with one well-aimed profanity, he sends them running for the hills.