The other night, after having a conversation with an old friend, I pulled out a big black binder filled with pieces I had written.
I spent more than a few minutes walking down memory lane that night, reading and rereading, reminiscing about what spurred on a poem, or how I actually used to be able to write an entire upper level college essay in French. I laughed at a few pieces, swooned at a few more, and at one point, I even shed a couple of tears.
Those pieces tell their own individual stories, of course, but put together they also tell a collective story: the tale of my writing journey that, apparently, started long before I ever thought it did.
For you see, I've been writing since I was a kid. Really. I found half-formed poems, letters, quotes,
and the beginning of what I think might be an epic love story. With each piece, I noticed an improvement in writing craft and style. I noted that I moved from simple letters and words to more sophisticated fragments and phrases.
And the lesson I learned? That with each new piece, my writing improves. That's right: every single time I sit down to write and revise a piece, I'm moving forward and making progress on a dream. I might have to take one million baby steps to get there, but someday, I will.
Start working on your dream, whatever that may be. And as always, Happy Writing!
On Saturday, despite the blanket of snow that covered the ground in
Yellow Springs, Ohio, I attended the spring (ha!) seminar from Antioch Writers' Workshop. The topic of the seminar was "The Writing Life," and Margaret Wrinkle led the pack as the featured speaker.
I hadn't heard of Margaret Wrinkle before registering
for the seminar, but I took a peek at her bio, which intrigued me
(excerpted from her website):
Born and raised in Birmingham Alabama, Margaret Wrinkle is a writer, filmmaker, educator and visual artist. Her debut novel, Wash, published
by Grove Atlantic, reexamines American slavery in ways that challenge
contemporary assumptions about race, power, history and healing. It
has won the Center for Fiction’s Flaherty-Dunnan First Novel Prize and
an American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation. Wash has also been named the Fiction Runner Up for the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, a finalist for the 2014 Chautauqua Prize, a Wall Street Journal top ten novel of the year, a New York Times Editors’ Choice, an O Magazine top ten selection and a People magazine 4-star pick.
Not intimidating at all, is she?
Much
to my utter delight, Margaret Wrinkle walked into the auditorium
dressed in casual clothes and spoke to us like she'd known us for years.
And after listening to her speak about her writing life, her bookis now on the top of my to-read list.
But
what did she say that other people have not? I mean, I've been to
several writing conferences, I personally know authors, and have read
extensively on "the writing life." In fact, I have my own writing life,
right? A couple of sentences stuck out amongst the others in her
presentation, as they struck me as something I hadn't really thought
about before. They included:
Images help you stay present to the heart of the story.
Your mind is a small boat on the ocean of your subconscious.
Live a boring life; save the drama for the work.
I plan on referring to those thoughts wherever and whenever I can.
~
I also had the pleasure of hearing three energetic and passionate
speakers talk about querying, editing your manuscript, and
self-marketing.
First up, Sharon Short.
I know Sharon on a first-name basis, and attended the query session
because I was interested in what she had to say. (I'm in the process of
querying right now and have an agent looking at my book. I hoped that
I'd done everything right.) Sharon's genuine enthusiasm made for a great
session. She shared her experiences with querying, gave us some
information about agents--those to look for and those to avoid--and
helped us understand the importance of researching which agent you
actually query.
Kate Geiselman
then took me through the art of editing and formatting a manuscript.
Again, I'm past this stage but I felt like I wanted a refresher course.
Kate provided that and more. She began the session with a lovely video
by Stephen Fry (If you haven't seen this yet, you should):
And
from there, she reminded us of grammar rules and formatting tips that
any writer could use. The best advice she gave, though, is to pay attention to submission guidelines, as they can vary widely. Like the true teacher she is, Kate repeated that phrase often.
I'd seen Kate before at a Sinclair Community College
writing workshop, but I've never had the privilege of attending one of
her sessions. She's a vibrant teacher and someone from whom we can all
learn.
Last but not least came the session with Greene County Public Library publicist Ryan Ireland.
He'd created a presentation worthy of any publicist, and disseminated a
wealth of information on how to self-market. (He spoke about figuring
out your readership, what to include on a website, and how to use social
media most efficiently, among other topics.) I'd chosen this session
because I find it really easy to help promote someone else, but I had,
until yesterday, no idea how to self-market myself. Based on what Ryan
said, I think I have a lot of work cut out for me, but I knew that when I
got into this mess of a writing life.
~
This
spring seminar is a one-day type that happens every year. I'd suggest
trying to get there next year, if you're local. But if you're looking
for something even more extensive, consider the Antioch Writers' Workshop Annual Summer Workshop.
It's a week-long event that is chock full of information and experience
that any creative writer would be fortunate to add to his or her
writer's toolbox.
Happy Writing!
~Christina
(Blog post originally published at http://17gon.blogspot.com/ and used with permission here.)
I’m not sure exactly who coined the phrase, but I read a
book several years ago entitled “In These Girls, Hope is a Muscle” written by
Madeleine Blais. The non-fiction book followed the journey of a high school
basketball team in Massachusetts with its defeats and triumphs. I used the
expressionto encourage and challenge
my own varsity basketball team I coached years ago and I reference the phrase
to my current students in my government and psychology classes.
For any skill to improve one must practice to enhance or
make it stronger. It is not unique to only athletics. My own personal writing
journey has had its ups and downs. I’ve had moments where I’ve wondered and
questioned if what I was doing with my time and if my commitment to the craft
was merely a lofty dream.
It’s easy to be renewed by the promise that things will get
better when the sun is shining and the atmosphere is pleasant. But, what about
the dark days? How do you conjure up the courage to continue the pursuit of
your dreams? I believe that’s where faith and hope become essential. Perhaps if
you remember the phrase, hope is a muscle, when you’re feeling doubt and when
you’re banging your head up against the wall because you see no progress you’ll
remember every step forward is progress. Every word you write is moving forward.
Life is cyclical. The more you give, the more you get. Maybe not immediately,
but in the long haul. Keep believing. Keep doing. Hope is growing.
This essay is one of the daily
devotionals for Oakwood United Methodist Church. I think it can speak to us as
writers, or to anyone with a dream, a mission, a vocation. We all have
something to offer, but all too often, the precious things we have to give are
rejected.
When I was in high school, I entered a concerto competition. I played really well. I went home, confident I would get a call informing me I had been chosen as one of the winners. I didn't just stay home that day. I sat by the phone all afternoon. No call ever came.
At suppertime, I came downstairs and told my father how surprised and disappointed I was. I couldn't understand how such a great performance could be overlooked. My dad didn't seem concerned. "They decide who's going to win these things before the competition ever happens," he said.
It didn't comfort me much to be told it didn't matter how well I played, I was never going to win. I played a woodwind instrument. String players always won. End of story.
I wonder sometimes, if my father thought about his point of view before I came to him with questions. Did he know I would fail to win? Why didn't he warn me?
In college, I asked a teacher to help me prepare for an audition. He agreed, but told me I couldn't win the audition. No reason why, just, "You won't make it." I didn't consider this a warning, but a slap in the face. I didn't get the part.
Does it matter if we go into something with high hopes, or if we go on despite the certainty of failure? Would our behavior be any different if we knew what the outcome would be?
Normally, the Plot Sisters' website is intended to provide support for writers. Hopefully, this isn't depressing. We all have to deal with rejection. But we have to decide how we approach the attempts we make. High hopes and dizzying expectations are a good thing. They give us energy and enthusiasm. But when we feel down, we still can go on. Unless we decide to quit, we have to go on.
I encourage everyone to keep trying. I give no assurances, except for this: Do whatever you do, your dream, your mission, your vocation, the best you can. Work, learn, grow. Do. This is how you define success. It doesn't matter at all if the world accepts it.
You’ve heard of the sandwich generation.
An entire generation (and generations to come) squeezed between taking care of
aging parents and their own children. Full loads on both sides of running their
own lives, including (usually) working full time jobs. They’re sandwiched
between multiple slices of life, pressing down on them from every direction. A
triple decker life sandwich, or more.
If I had to give the occupation of writing
a moniker, it would be the sandwich
occupation. Let’s face it, this occupation (for most) does not afford us a
life of luxury. And, even more realistically, often times, does not even pay
the bills. Many aspiring writers have yet to make any money at all. But the
call is still there, the drive, the passion. So we write. We don’t do it
because we expect it to provide that life of riches, allowing us to live in huge
houses and drive different fancy cars every day of the week. We do it because
we love it. We do it because we can’t not
do it. To not do it, would be like
not breathing. Even though we don’t get paid to do that either, it must be done. So, we continue to slog to
our “paying jobs,” squeezing in whatever precious time we can to devote to our
true calling. Sandwiched in between all those other sandwich generation things,
but adding one more layer, squeezing in the thing that calls to us most.
Writing.
So, to all my fellow slices of ham, Tofurky,
tomato, lettuce…may the thing calling to you like lungs call for air someday be
the slice of life that pays your bills.
I am the newest Plot Sister and mighty glad to be part of this talented, dynamic and supportive group of women. I met them at a Wordsworth Writing Center class taught by author Katrina Kittle. I am at a point in my writing where I need a critique group and these five women and the structure they have established are the perfect solution.
I think my use of the word mighty in the first line was well chosen. These are mighty women and mighty writers who are mighty good at critique. I’m feeling blessed, lucky, happy, and grateful to be a Plot Sister.
I am a firm believer in being a good literary citizen and part of that citizenship is to support other writers. This group not only meets twice a month for critique sessions but also forays into the community for events like author signings, Lit Salons (sponsored by the Antioch Writers’ Workshop), artist dates, and craft classes.
The best blessing upon being folded into the group was the privilege of reading their writing. Wow, just wow. I had to remind myself that this is what I asked the universe for, talented writers good at critique, and just plunge in. After having a session where my work was critiqued I can tell you they are also mighty kind and mighty clear in their suggestions as to how to improve the work.
All this mightying made me think of Mighty Mouse but that image just doesn’t work for us as women as there is no Mighty Woman Mouse. Hence the inclusion of Wonder Woman at the top of the post. Believe me, there are definitely weak sentences being deflected by power bracelets, overused words being lassoed, and plots being rescued from wandering. These are “wonder”ful women and writers. Stay tuned folks, some incredible publications will emerge from this group.
A thought popped into my mind as I was pulling laundry out
of the dryer, that every job I've ever had, I've either studied long
and hard to do the job, i.e. spent five years in graduate school so I
could teach those whippersnappers A&P, or I've had enough of a
background to get hired, but then I gathered on-the-job training. In
fact, the only job I didn't have training for was being a parent. You're
just thrown into that job with very little background (babysitting
counts, but not so much, really). Parenting is an extreme case of
on-the-job training, right?
All of this thinking about jobs made me kick myself in the rear end, at
least metaphorically. Despite the fact that I've been writing since I
was young, I never majored in English, Literature, or Creative Writing; I
never edited more than the high school newspaper (that is, until Literary Mama);
I never enrolled in advanced writing courses at the college level. I've
been picking my way through writing with the help of my writing group
and some wonderful local writing courses, but to be honest, most of my
writing education has been by trial and error and much perusing of
online resources. And I didn't start this journey until 2012. Three
years I've been at this. Only three years.
So why did I think, if it took me five years of graduate school to be
able to stand in front of a class and do what I do, or over a decade to
be the mother that I am, that I should be able to write a book and
publish it in very little time? Am I that arrogant? I don't think so.
I'm just that impatient. And I've spoken about that impatience before.
My plan? To stick with the writing life for the long haul, regardless of where I go and how long it takes me.
~Christina
(Blog post originally published at http://17gon.blogspot.com/ and used with permission here.)
