Actually that is a lie. There’s plenty of crying in writing. You know those days. You want to bang your head against the wall, throw yourself on the floor, and kick and scream like a toddler having a supermarket meltdown.
We love the moments when everything flows and every sentence feels pristine with jewel-like words and images. Everything is clicking into place. But we have plenty of days when that’s not going to happen.
The sentences on the page aren’t matching up with the vision in your mind. That’s usually a sign of overthinking, trying too hard, or getting too analytical instead of staying in your wild mind. (To learn more about how you can practice writing with a wild mind, read Natalie Goldberg’s book, Wild Mind: Living the Writer’s Life.)
Have a little cry if you want and then try these tips:
Put yourself in your story. Regain your connection with your plot by inhabiting scenes as you write them. Visualize yourself in a scene as you write it. Taste, touch, and smell the action. Now reveal the sensory images as you write the scene. Read more
This morning, I was working out at the gym on an elliptical machine, not thinking of anything, when suddenly an intense sadness welled up inside me. Having lost my husband over two years ago, I thought it was another layer of grief so I allowed it to rise up and release but instead of releasing, the feeling became more intense and raw. Tears welled up as I continued to work out. I couldn’t figure out what had triggered the feelings and why they were so incredibly strong. And then a thought flashed through my mind—whose feelings are these?
From years of working with and helping people, I know that sometimes I’ll intuit other’s thoughts and feelings, but I’m usually pretty good at recognizing when this happens and setting up my boundaries. For me, this means doing a specific visualization.
This morning, the thought persisted that the sadness I was feeling wasn’t mine. I looked at the man working out on the machine next to me. He didn’t look sad. He didn’t look as if he was in pain. He seemed fine. Read more
For National Poetry Month, I thought I’d share some thoughts on my most favorite and least favorite parts of writing a new poem:
My favorite part of writing a new poem:
- The idea that invades my mind like twining ivy and won’t let go until the entire poem has been put to paper
- Making messy lines and blot outs and squiggles with my colored pen on paper as I play with ideas and words
- Typing all that mess into a fresh, new document on my computer—that feeling of chaos becoming somehow ordered
- Rereading the poem, feeling both its wholeness and its incompleteness in my mind and body
- Editing the poem, fussing with words and line breaks, challenging myself to see what can be more specific or fresher
- Reading the poem for my writing critique group to see my creation through new eyes, discovering where the poem can be improved
My least favorite part of writing a new poem? Read more
The word “flow” is overused these days. You hear it everywhere. “Go with the flow.” “Get in the flow.” “Don’t worry. Just let it flow.” (By the way, did you know when you tell someone not to worry, it’s scientifically proven that it makes them worry more?)
But being in “flow” doesn’t mean you just sit around doing nothing, waiting for life to take you wherever you think you want to go. No. That’s not flow. That’s called laziness. (And sometimes laziness is good, too, but I’m talking about flow here.)
I first discovered what the flow state was before I knew there was a name for it. Read more
Before I wrote my first synopsis, I thought it would be a breeze—after all, I’d done the hard part, right? I had finished and edited an entire book! What could be harder than that? Plenty, I was to learn.
Recently, I helped chair a major literary contest where I read over 100 book synopses. I was impressed with a handful of the synopses, but, for the most part, they were vague or poorly written or trying to be “mysterious” when they needed to be clear and to the point. I realized that I was probably not alone in my dread of the synopsis. Writing a GOOD synopsis is one of the hardest tasks undertaken by a writer.
The main purpose of a synopsis is to provide a summary of an entire novel. It must provide an overview of the plot (including the ending), characters, and theme.
Put yourself in the shoes of a literary agent who is deciding from your synopsis whether or not to read the first pages of your book. Your synopsis has to be even more perfect than your stellar novel. No pressure, right?
No worries. Below are a few tips to help you make your synopsis sing: Read more
I’ve always been intimidated by New Year’s resolutions. As an indecisive person, it was April before I’d decided on an aspect of my life to improve. And by that point, well, it was already April. But five years ago, I was gifted a mini journal before the New Year that led me to start a new tradition: Keeping a yearly mini journal.
Journals are fantastic ways to document memories and ideas. But a full, blank, white page can be daunting. What happens when I only have four words of dialogue that I want to write down — that memory when I introduced myself to my coworker Jeremy, as Jeremy?
“Hi Jeremy, I’m Jeremy.”
I don’t need to expand on this embarrassing moment, but I would like to look back and laugh at my former self.
In this case, I need a mini journal. Read more
Sensory images are glue that grabs readers and draws them into your story world.
If you want to improve your ability to write sensuously, become more conscious of senses by creating a sensory journal. Supercharge your attention on what’s going on around you as you go through your days, and you’ll likely become more aware. To boost that experience, commit to focus on a specific sense. Start today by creating a scent diary.
As you leave your house for work, take children to school, or do errands, notice how the air smells when you walk out the door. Does it smell like rain? The paper mill across the river? Pine trees? I still remember the smell of chocolate when I walked out of my hotel on a trip to Chicago. I found out that it emanated from the Blommer chocolate factory. Read more