Putting It Out There

But I still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people that publication is not all that it is cracked up to me. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do - the actual act of writing - turns out to be the best part. It's like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward. ~Ann Lamott in Bird by Bird

People write for all different reasons, and lately I've been struggling a little bit to determine my own. I've been reading a lot of blogs about writing, people who've managed to parlay their blog writing into successful businesses, people who have published successful eBooks based on their blogs, people who teach writing. People who spend a lot of time promoting their work on all sorts of social media sites.

Honestly, it's made me feel a bit like a slacker. Like maybe I'm being lazy, just sitting here contentedly writing my little blogs every week.

Like I'm missing the boat.

So when I'm feeling confused about my personal writing experience I turn to some of my favorite "teachers."

Like Ann Lamott. She says that sometime when we think we need the tea ceremony for the caffeine, all we need is the tea ceremony.

Do I need caffeine? Do I need to put myself out there for the big payoff? Or do I just need to write - about life in general and my own in particular, about the books I love and hope you'll love too, about this writing life that I try (on my best days) to live?

I suspect I'm more of a ceremonial person than a caffeine oriented person.

Not that I don't want to work at writing, to get better at it- because I do.

Not that I don't want other people to read my writing - because I do.

But writing is a very personal means of expression for me and being able to set my thoughts and ideas on paper is hugely rewarding. I don't need to worry about blog stats or Facebook "likes." I don't have to "follow" a zillion people on Twitter.

All I have to do is write. That's the payoff.

And it's fine for me.

How about you? Do you go for the caffeine in your writing life, or are you happy with the ceremony?

Why Write Another Christmas Story?

If you were raised in the Christian tradition, there's really only one Christmas story - the tiny baby born in a lowly manger who grows up to be a Savior. But we all have a Christmas story of our own, and while it may never become the stuff of legend it might be  important to understanding who you are as a person and as a writer.

My childhood Christmases were idyllic. Although I'm an only child, I had many cousins who lived nearby, so our quiet, family-of-three centered Christmas mornings turned into huge extended family blowouts on Christmas afternoon and evening. The day was chock full of fun, food, presents, and all around excitement.

Years have passed, my cousins are scattered hither and yon and holidays have sometimes been lonely for this only child (who married an only child and raised an only child!)  I started dwelling on loss during the holidays, rather than on possibilities. I found myself thinking too much about what used to be, rather than appreciating what was, or looking forward to what could be. As a result, I sometimes dreaded the holiday, found only darkness in it, rather than hope or light.

But our Christmas story changed  in a big way this year, thanks to the birth of a baby - our six week old grandson. Hope was born again, so Christmas this year - though not the huge festive event of my childhood - regained a similar sense of excitement and anticipation.

Our writing stories might undergo similar transformations during the course of our lives. We get stuck in cycles, afraid to try new things, afraid to take risks. We lose the joy in putting words on the page, are unable to anticipate the finished product, or plan for the future. Like so many of my Christmases past, writing becomes stale and unproductive, something to dread rather than time to look forward to.

Creative stories can be rewritten, just as Christmas stories can. Like my grandson's birth, new inspiration arrives or new success infuses your writing with hope, making it sparkle and shine again, giving it a renewed sense of purpose.

May you find that for your writing life this season.

What's your Christmas story? Does it impact your writing life in any way?

Cut to the Chase

The secret of good writing is to strip every sentence to its cleanest components. Every word that serves no function, every long word that could be a short word, every adverb that carries the same meaning that's already in the verb, every passive construction that leaves the reader unsure of who is doing what--these are the thousand and one adulterants that weaken the strength of a sentence. ~William Zinsser, On Writing Well

In my former position as a medical writer, I was given large amounts of detailed information and it was my job to pare it down to the most important points.When I trained new writers, my favorite instruction was "cut to the chase."

Be concise, I advised.

Just the facts.

That was valuable advice for my new medical writers, and it's just as valuable for writers in all genres. When I go back to revise a blog post or an essay, I'm always dismayed at the amount of hyperbole. I tend to use two words when one will do, or add another clause to a sentence when the first one would have sufficed.

"Strip every sentence to its cleanest components," Zinsser advised. Not an easy task in any form of writing, and even more complex when the writer aims to write beautifully as well as to tell a good story.

To do it, you must know exactly what you want to say with pinpoint precision, and you must not fear the sharp point of a red pen.

If you can accomplish it, you've created a masterwork.

Note: My friend Andi is hosting a writing contest that will test your skill in this department. It asks that you write about the Best Gift You Ever Received in 75 words or less.

From the Archives: The Power of Place

For the past week, I've been immersed in reading Bridge of Sighs, a novel by Richard Russo.  The novel is set in Thomaston, New York, a small industrial town that finds itself struggling to stay alive during the post WWII era.   Lou (Lucy) Lynch, the novel's protagonist, is doggedly loyal to Thomaston, even though chemical laden river is probably responsible for the cancer which kills his father.   This town, with its clear demarcations of social strata, its racial tensions, its lack of expectation and promise, becomes a focal point not just in the lives of Russo's characters, but in the story itself. Reading this novel has set me thinking about the way our sense of place effects our writing.  Russo also  wrote about small town life in his Pulitzer Prize winning novel Empire Falls, so it's clearly something that preoccupies his writers' mind.  His view is not the idyllic scene made popular by writers like Jan Karon in her Mitford series.  Russo's characters  often seem stuck in place, as if their location were quick sand sucking them under.  They suffer, with their unfulfilled hopes and dreams tied like albatross around their emotional necks.

Writer's are often advised to write about what you know, and I imagine this refers to locale as well as subject matter.  Certainly it's possible to write effectively about places you're never lived, although to do it well would require much research and surely some personal visits.  But I think we are drawn to write about the places that have touched our hearts, that dwell within us, sometimes more deeply than we even know.  I think we develop a realtionship with the place we live, it's geography, it's society, it's history, and that relationship is reflected in the way we write about place, in the location of our stories, and the environments we imagine.  Our readers will feel this deep relationship, and it will transport them more directly into the setting about which we write.

I lived my entire life in the midwest, in the suburbs of Detroit, surrounded by working class people who live comfortably, but don't have a great deal of "extras."   Although my physical roots are here in the midwest, I also have spiritual roots, places that seem to call to me even though I've never spent much physical time in them.  The American south, home to my maternal ancestors, holds a great fascination for me, and I occasionally feel a surprising longing to be amidst the great Smoky Mountains, or wander barefoot through cool Kentucky bluegrass.  And the three weeks I spent traveling in the South of England, staying in little towns scattered throughout Kent and Sussex, felt oddly comfortable, as if I were returning to a place I'd once lived rather than visiting a foreign country for the first time.

It makes me wonder if our spirits have a memory, if the places we've come from over time become engrained in souls.  Toni Morrison wrote, "You know they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage.  Occasionally the river floods these places.  "Floods" is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding, it is remembering.  Remembering where it used to be.  Writers are like that: remembering where we were, what valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place."

In her book, Writing Begins With the Breath, Larainne Herring asks "What does your piece of the earth talk about? What stories are hidden in the houses? The unpaved streets? The rusted mailboxes? You don't have to travel the world to find your landscape.  You've grown up in one, and whether you connect with it or know without a doubt you're in the wrong place, you're still affected by it.  We' re all people.  It's the place we're living in that shapes our behavior, attitudes, desires, and activities."

How about you? How does place figure in your writing?  Do you feel comfortable in the place you live, or do you feel at odds with your atmosphere? Do you convey that in your writing?  What stories does your location have to tell?

Write On This:  

"The loss of a place isn't really so different from the loss of a person.  Both disappear without permission, leaving the self diminished, in need of testimony and evidence."   Bridge of Sighs, Richard Russo

Write about a place you've lost....

Using the Moment

The breakfast table was beside the window, and the sun caught the facets of the glass butter dish, setting them aglow. The butter on the toast melted in puddles, the shape of continents. The minute hand on the clock clicked from one designated minute to the next. It would go on like that all hour, all day. This is what happiness is, thought Nancy. And while so much of what she thought and felt went into her writing, she knew she'd never make use of this moment. It was hers to be remembered, hers alone.   ~from The Writing Circle, by Corrine Demas

Yesterday afternoon I spent almost an hour in the rocking chair, my two week old grandson cradled in my arms, rocking him and singing softly while he gazed raptly at the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree. As much as I love words and believe in their power, I don't have words within me to adequately describe that kind of happiness.

There are moments in life that defy written description. But the sensation of those moments becomes indelibly impressed on the writer and inform her senses and her emotions. While she may not consciously "use" them in her work, the way they change her experience is likely to be conveyed at some point in her writing.

My experiences with my grandson in the past two weeks have been deeply emotional and profoundly personal. While I may never write about them in detail, they have left a mark on my heart and in my soul that will change the way I see the world.

And the way I write about it.

How about you? Are there moments you'll never consciously "use" in your writing, but that will nevertheless have a huge impact on it?