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Posts from the ‘Writing Exercises’ Category

Igniting passion as an artist

Whether you’re a writer, painter, photographer, or other type of artist, you are a creator, a mini-god, a microcosm of the macrocosm. And you create for a reason. All artists have their reasons. I began creating as a way to answer questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Is there any purpose to my life? Why do things happen the way they do?

These questions are what motivate me to write. In the writing, occasionally, I get answers. There are other reasons why I write—I like to tell stories, to explore relationships and psychology. But my real passion for writing stems from my original questions.

What is your passion? Why do you create? These are important questions every artist needs to answer for themselves. The key, I think, is in the word passion. Read more

Writer as wood carver: exercises in re-visioning, Part 2 of 2

In a writing class taught by Nicola Morris, I learned how to be a sculptor of words. As described in part 1 of this post, she had us take a page of completed work and after each sentence, insert two new sentences.

Now that I’d added 66% more words to my masterpiece, it was time to whittle away the unnecessary fat. The first exercise Nikki gave us is called “unpacking.” It’s a good exercise that teaches us to take our time as writers and fully develop a piece. The next trick was to take these unpacked, expanded pages and whittle them down again—leaving only what’s essential. I think of it like packing and unpacking a suitcase—there’s a whole bunch of stuff in there and each item has its own place…I wouldn’t put my bra in the medicine cabinet with my toothbrush would I?

In order to decide what to keep, I ask myself three questions: 1) What is important to me in this piece?  2) What do I want to say?  3) Which sentences are essential to what I want to say? Read more

Writer as sculptor: exercises in re-visioning, Part 1 of 2

Writing workshops. Seminars. Weeklong Retreats. Self-help books. MFA programs. Online classes. I’ve done them all. I consider myself a lifetime student of my craft, a connoisseur of writing classes. At first, everything seemed new and fresh—a magical land of writerly ways and secret handshakes. Over time, I learned and grew. I became more selective. I’m still an eager student of the writing craft—I just don’t rush at everything like a new puppy. Still, every once in a while, I find a class that gets my tail wagging again…

One such class, taught by writer and Goddard College faculty member Nicola Morris, was on the theme of re-visioning. We were told to bring a few pages of a completed work to class. Nikki explained that as writers we were either building up our work like a sculptor or breaking down our work like a wood carver.

Our first exercise was to be the sculptor—to take a page of our written work and, after each sentence, insert two new sentences. Excuse me? She wanted me to expand it by two-thirds? How was I supposed to add that much new material to my finished masterpiece? Read more

Write inspired: Seven ways to use your powers of observation

As writers, we all have routines or rituals. One thing we cannot do though is write only when we are “inspired.” We cannot just write when we feel like it.

However, we can write from inspired ideas we collected earlier. Writing doesn’t happen just when you sit down at your computer or with paper and pen. It’s a constant process of gathering ideas and letting them percolate in your subconscious. These ideas can be the fodder for whole novels, snippets of dialogue, or description.

So how do we find those inspired ideas? Live in full observation mode. Take a closer look at everything around you, and take note.

1. Go to the mall — You’ll find all sorts of people at a shopping mall: men and women, young and old, rich and poor. Observe people to collect ideas for how to describe characters. Watch behaviors,  listen to the tone of conversations, observe how people dress.

2. Read the newspaper — Besides reading news and feature stories, scan the ads, including classifieds. Read more

It’s raining concrete: the #1 rule of writing, Part 2 of 2

Over the years, I’d trained myself to be an observer of life’s details and to use those concrete details in my writing. (I do have an MFA in people watching). But I’d never done the opposite—never thought about turning details into abstractions as Ayn Rand suggests we do in her book The Art of Fiction.

I’m sure at some unconscious level, the details and abstractions ran parallel lives in my mind but I wasn’t consciously aware of them. I never thought, “What do the moles on my mother’s neck represent?”

While on vacation earlier this year, I sat on a white sand beach on the island of Kauai and thought about Rand’s advice. She suggests we practice seeing the abstractions within the concrete details in order to make our minds supple and easily able to notice both the abstractions or premises in our work and how to show them through details. Read more

What makes a good metaphor?

We’ve all heard them, read them, sometimes written them—those cringe-worthy similes and metaphors that make us wonder what planet the authors came from. Bad metaphors make for good comedy. We get emails with laugh-out-loud examples from student essays, such as:

  • He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
  • She was as easy as the “TV Guide” crossword.
  • The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
  • She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

You get the idea. During my beginning years as a writer, I confess that I too occasionally dipped into the bad-metaphor well. Embarrassing, right? But then I got better. I worked at it. I practiced. When I made the leap from writing poetry to writing stories and books, I made another major discovery about what makes a good metaphor. Read more

Four ways to stimulate creativity & cure the writing blahs, part 1 of 4

I woke up feeling blah this morning.  A gray Northwest day still affects my spirits despite the fact I’ve lived here for nearly half a century.  Did I just say half a century?  Now I’m really depressed. But I have to get out of my funk because it’s my writing time.  Husband is gone for a few hours (we both work from home), and that’s always the best time for some productive writing. The question is—how do I inspire myself instead of continuing to stare out my window and count shades of gray?

I make a list. For me, list making is almost as satisfying as eating dark chocolate.  Okay, maybe writers do exaggerate.  Off the top of my head, I write down four of my favorite ways to get my creativity and inspiration back on track.  I’ll share them with you as long as you promise to add your own favorites to your list. First on my list is:  Read more