Reapplying the Bum Glue

Posted on August 3, 2011 by lalber

dead violets — My fiction shall not go the way of these African violets!

It’s not that I haven’t written since the economy tanked and my financial situation turned precarious and the contract work I found took over my life in an incredibly stressful way…It’s that I haven’t truly been writing either. Know what I mean?

There’s a self-discipline to sitting down to the writing. There’s also a self-discipline to clearing life-stuff out of the way so I can sit down to the writing. I’m out of practice with both.

So, this morning, I gave myself a lecture:

Whatever you do, do NOT roll over for the return journey to slumberland. It’s your own blasted fault you accidentally read until 1:oo a.m.!
One hour, just one hour, of writing is a-okay. Self-sabotage alert: my all-or-nothing mindset is not working! Look at Michael Robertson, who spoke at the writers conference a few weekends past; he mentioned that given his day job, he writes in 45-minute chunks. A little before work, a little at lunch hour, a little after work.
Turn on the computer and. just. WALK. AWAY. Do not pass go, do not collect stressors from the email queue and distractions from Facebook! However, do open the manuscript so that it greets me when I return with my coffee.
For a change of pace, maybe I can relax with my coffee for 15 minutes before starting the computer hunchback routine. Maybe I can open a novel by an author I admire, turn to any page, and read to get my juices flowing.

Happily, I achieved the written word today. It’s still not enough — there goes Little Miss All-Or-Nothing again — but it’s what I can do right now.

The truth is, I wrote for one and a half hours. The truth is, if I can wiggle past the daily distractions and day-job triggers, the one hour often turns into more.

The Through-Line

Posted on July 24, 2011 by lalber

: My beloved nephews are dogsitting Luna.

I’m in Corte Madera, California, at the Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference. Here in my hotel room, all is quiet. Traffic is a tide over on
I-5, and my brain is saturated from the past three days of authorial
info-dumping. At a conference, this is a good thing. I want the author faculty members to info-dump all over me.

Many craft terms have been bandied about, but I heard a new one (to me) yesterday in a plotting lecture given by Robert Dugoni and Cara Black: the through-line. What is the overall question of the story?

Of course, me being me, after a day with writers, and then an evening of conversation, food, and two great Zinfandels, I returned to this here hotel room, exhausted but unable to sleep. I got to thinking: What is my through-line? I’ve had a cantankerous, broody relationship with fiction these past few years. I haven’t been writing. Not really. I’ve developed three new novel ideas, and set them all aside, uninterested. Somewhere along the way I lost my way, no longer following my personal yellow brick road…

Which is why I decided to attend this conference: to step onto the writing road again. So here I am, on this page at least, attempting to write my way back to my through-line, which, in the end, is the simple fact that I can’t let the fiction go. I don’t know what’s going to become of me. I’m not saving for retirement, for example. I work as a contractor and as little as possible so I’ll have time for fiction. I don’t have a supportive husband to help me through the financially tough times.

But that’s okay. I do feel inspired again, and I thought I’d put that out there on this humble, much-neglected blog. I do want get back to the honest and difficult work of writing first drafts and then revising the you-know-what out of them.

One of the story ideas that I set aside…I got to talking about it with a new Canadian writer friend last night. The truth is, it’s not such a bad idea, after all…

I’m Skittish

Posted on May 11, 2010 by lalber

Random 2009 Pic — I think Mr. Greenie is feeling a little skittish too.

I’ve been meaning to write a couple of blog posts for over a week now. I wanted to plug a local novelist, Naseem Rahka, whose debut novel, The Crying Tree, just won the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association award.

I also wanted to write a post about the first annual Terroir Creative Writers Conference held in McVinnville. For non-Oregonians, McVinnville is a sweet little town in the heart of wine country, about 90 minutes from Portland. The word “terroir” is a winemaking term, not, alas, “terror” + “noir.”

Yet another novel idea preoccupies me. The air-fairy kind of preoccupation that involves a list of everything that interests me right now and a lot of nonfiction reading. Going from one topic to another, letting my mind wander in an imaginative way…Letting the subconscious juices burble…

But enough of that already. Last week I forced myself to get concrete. It’s one thing to amble around in the land of, Oh man, I’d like to write a story that incorporates x and centers around y — quite another thing to actually have a story idea.

So, last Monday, I opened a Word document. I wrote, “I want to write a story about (insert air-fairy inkling here)” and spent the week asking myself a million questions. By Friday, I had almost two pages of particulars (character names, location, central plotline, some backstory, an ending that will probably change but that’s okay).

But.

I’m skittish. The last couple of novel ideas haven’t panned out. I almost have a complex! Second-guessing myself, perhaps, or, worse yet, trying too hard. By which I mean, trying too hard to write something that will for-sure get me published (as if there’s ever a “for-sure”).

This time around I’m trying to listen to my body for those “a-ha” moments that might indicate that I’m onto something worthwhile idea-wise. And I’m trying not to dismiss the fact that my idea seems…well…too outlandish — maybe even stupid?

But what is too outlandish these days? And what’s stupid anyhow? I don’t even know what I mean by that word when I use it. Must be my fear talking, right?

Tending Toward the Dark Side

Posted on April 27, 2010 by lalber

Well, that was a no-go. I told an earnest tale of writing the first 50 pages to see if my latest novel idea had legs. I didn’t write a word, not one word.

I could blame distractions — of which there have been many — but I won’t. The truth is, the novel idea was probably “not me” from its inception, and its inception began with two marvelous, sun-drenched weeks in Hawaii in January. I was in such a serene mood that I became enamored of a serene idea. Serene for me that is: women’s fiction, a story more about happily-ever-after than about murder and mayhem.

After Ghost Story Weekend, in which I reminded myself to listen to the loudest voice in my head, all I can say is this: No wonder my serene idea didn’t pan out. The ideas that excite me tend toward the dark side. I knew my serene idea was in trouble when a stalker entered the scene. But even with a stalker, I’m not interested. Yawn.

It’s a relief to officially let this idea go. It’s been dogging me for many weeks now. I had a big ol’ crush on the idea, but no way it and I would live happily-ever-after for the next year of writing and revising. Alas, coming up with a viable story idea is sometimes like kissing a frog.

WRITING CREEPY | A Ghost Story Weekend

Posted on April 19, 2010 by lalber

Come to find out that writing creepy is hard! I’d arrived at Ghost Story Weekend without an idea, thinking no biggie, something will come, it always does. On Friday night when most of the other 12 writers at the retreat tapped away, tap-tap-tap, on their short stories, and with only 24 hours to write a first draft, I found myself doing the Jack Nicholson:

“…I don’t know what to write I don’t know what to write. Image of a girl walking her dog…so stupid with no other character on the scene. But maybe the people in the houses — the people she sees through the windows are the creep-factors. Stepford-wife-like neighborhoods are creepy. So what would this girl be — blah! I don’t have an idea I don’t know what to write I don’t know what to write…”

About half of us sat in the haunted boathouse while the others wrote in the bungalows. When we’d met with our hostess, novelist Elizabeth Engstrom, earlier in the evening, I’d noticed that most of my fellow crazy people looked confident. Even the few who’d arrived without a story idea looked confident that they’d find and finish their stories. For some reason, I was stuck on the word “creepy.”

I wasn’t in a creepy mood. I was having too much fun reunionizing and meeting people, enjoying the unusually warm weather, relishing the time away from my moronic downstairs neighbors, and drinking red wine. If anything, I was in a sarcastic mood. I kept hearing a flippant little first-person voice poking fun at everything ghostly.

But…I was also torturing myself in classic writerly fashion: I must give creepy a try.

Saturday dawned cloudy with wind enough to stir Siltcoos Lake and set the boathouse to swaying. I had nothing. No revelations in the night despite the index cards and pen sitting next to my pillow. EFF-this, I thought, I’m going with my sarcastic voice. As long as my story contains some species of ghostly phenomena, I’m golden.

Then, what do you know, I had a blast writing my story. Now my desperation was all about finishing the draft by 6:00 p.m. that evening. I started with a voice and a setting — plus something to poke fun at: ghost hunters. Didn’t know where it was going, how to end it, or what the point of the whole thing was. After awhile, I didn’t care, and, in the end, I even managed a little creepiness.

Lessons learned or relearned?

1. Jump in, the story will follow. Sometimes it’s best not to think too hard about it.

2. Go with the voice in my head that’s yelling the loudest.

3. Creepiness comes when you least expect it.

A Serendipity Story

Posted on April 15, 2010 by lalber

AprilHenrybook — Can you see April Henry's name?

I like the idea of synchronicity. As in when you work toward a goal, and life treats you to a serendipitous surprise as a reward. Kind of like creating your own luck. This is the way I’ve experienced serendipity anyhow. Not that I’ve been on that roll for awhile…sadly…BUT, at novelist April Henry’s reading earlier this week, I bouyed myself up with her grandly serendipitous publishing adventure. It can happen!

Sidenote: April Henry taught a thriller-writing class last fall. I was one of her students, eager to learn more about plotting. She’s an excellent teacher and knows her stuff for sure.

Back in the day, April worked hard at her fiction (and still does, obviously). In fact, she mentioned five unpublished novels in different genres, including historical and chick-lit. Then, she hit her stride with Circles of Confusion, which sold in three days.

So, now April was a mystery writer with a series. She also wrote YA novels. As I understand it, there came a point when the adult novels weren’t doing as well, and the series petered out. She kept writing around her 9-to-5 job and plugging away. Here’s where I see serendipity: Because she’d been out there and working hard, she knew people, people knew of her, and the way I see it, up pops an opportunity that she’d never have imagined possible: “helping” (my quotes, not April’s) Lis Wiehl, legal analyst and television personality, write thrillers.

Another sidenote: It’s the James Patterson thing. The brand name with the true author mentioned in little print. Once again, my words, not April’s. (I repeat, my words, not April’s.)

You might be thinking…Well, that sounds oookay, but not like an optimal publishing experience for a talented novelist. But, here’s the thing. The first book in their series landed on the New York Times bestseller list, and they’ve signed a second multi-book deal. Meanwhile, April has continued her YA publishing track, and because of her new success with Lis Wiehl, her YA publisher is promoting the heck out of her upcoming YA novel.

On the purely practical side: April got a quit her day-job. She now writes fiction (lucratively) full-time! Isn’t that what we all want?

I felt happy for April as I walked out of the bookstore. To me, that’s a great story.

Particularities and Perseverence

Posted on April 12, 2010 by lalber

Catnap — I wanna go back to sleep SO bad!

On Friday I wrote that I was seeking something in my life, and I wondered what this meant for my fiction. I didn’t mean that I was going to quit. I meant that I need to branch out and explore other areas of my being-ness. I’ve had one egg (fiction) in my basket for quite awhile now.

However, that said, today I promised myself I’d start writing on yet another new novel idea. Last fall I started a thriller, took a workshop, and lost interest in the story. Hard-core thrillers aren’t my thing, that’s all. But I wanted to check out that kind of storytelling, and I’m glad I did.

Now, it’s time to start again. I’ve muddled a new idea, and, of course, I’m unsure about it. Over the weekend, I realized — RE-realized I should say — that after awhile I tie myself in knots with too much thinking. I’m better in the doing. The only way to know whether I’m emotionally invested is to write the first 50 pages fast, which is to say, with minimal angst.

Being a detail-oriented person, I find it’s the particularites set down on the page that get me excited. The grand story vision is an untested theory, that’s all. So I’ll see what I see after 50 pages.

I’m sitting up in bed with coffee, laptop, index cards, and novel journal (plus cat) at my side. Please wish me luck: I’m exhausted and anxious. I haven’t been sleeping well because of money stress. That’s why I’m still in bed; sitting at my desk to write would take too much energy. This, my friends, is perseverence in action!

A Day of Rest

Posted on April 9, 2010 by lalber

I’ve been thinking about the concept of the sabbath. The day of rest. I mean a true day of rest, in which we live outside our hectic notions of time. No errand running, no catch-up work, no nothing. Just relaxation, friends, family, eating (of course!), and your church of choice, whether that’s a cathedral or a forest.

If I understand the traditional intent, we’d devote our sabbath days to our spiritual selves. But how to take ourselves out of the daily grind for one day? Each week, we’d have to plan for our personal sabbaths as if going on a one-day vacation from our lives. We’d have to say “no.” We’d try to avoid the easy time-wasters and brain-pacifiers: television, Internet, email, and maybe even novels. (Oh–the last one would be my downfall in a restless moment!)

I’d probably nap during the afternoon and call this a form of contemplation. For reflection time, I could journal. I’d walk as a form of meditation.

Hmm…

What about fiction writing? For the longest time, I thought of fiction as my religion. It was the way I connected to my core self and to the bigger universal dealio, whatever that may be, because I sure as heck don’t know. Maybe without knowing it, I’ve been looking for this dealio through my fiction.

All I know is that when I started taking my fiction seriously, I stopped seeking a spiritual path in the more traditional sense.

I seem to be in seeker mode again though. I wonder what this means for my fiction…

Monkey Mind Monday

Posted on September 21, 2009 by lalber

I wrestled with whether to reveal the depths of my neuroticism on this blog and decided that monkey mind comes with my writing life. I’d like to think I’m not the only one who suffers from this silly malady.

Earlier today, monkey mind went something like this:

After a decade practicing the writing craft, I apparently STILL don’t know how to begin a story. If I haven’t mastered this by now, I probably never will master it. So maybe I should quit. I mean what’s the point, right? Why put myself through this suffering? But then what will I do? What am I good for in this life? I can’t do anything, really…

Ad nauseum. (I’ve always loved the way that phrase reminds me of the word “nauseated.”)

Monkey mind trigger? Last night I received feedback on my prologue. Actually, two prologues. Because I’ve always had trouble with beginnings, I turned in two and received much food for thought from my workshop instructor.

Unfortunately, after sleeping on it, I realized that I’ve been hearing the same feedback themes for years now, with every workshop, with every first scene. Haven’t I learned anything!?!??!

You can see how from this thought, I eventually ended up wondering if I should quit altogether. This is normal, right?

In the midst of all this neuroticism, I found myself pulling feedback from previous workshops out of my desk and placing them in a manila folder. In the future, I will peruse the feedback in this folder to remind myself what to watch out for as I start a new novel.

Action speaks louder than monkey mind, eh? Apparently, I’m not quitting yet.

I Swear I’m Working!

Posted on September 18, 2009 by lalber

: I call this doing the Hemingway.

Need I say anything more on a glorious TGIF afternoon, lounging in my favorite open-air bistro, Capitol Hill Coffee House, and starting the development process for Act II?

Floating out there beyond the headlights awaits the plot point that signals the end of Act II. I know where I’m going, just need to get a handle on the scenes that get me from here to there.

Admittedly, this kind of planning work isn’t my strength. A nice little Chilean Merlot helps though!