Here we go! A Writing Challenge

I’ve been working lately on a challenge for myself. I’ve always loved the idea of NaNoWriMo where you write a novel in 30 days during the month of November. I’ve attempted once, but it’s got a couple of flaws for me. November is a hard month to commit to a big project, it’s busy and the weather often gets me down. Also, I have trouble with goals, because I feel like if I get behind, there’s no going forward. Obviously that’s flawed thinking, but I’m a flawed human.

So I’m setting my own 30-day challenge. I’m going to write something, a minimum of 500 words, 5 days a week for the next 6 weeks. Because of my trouble with daily goals, I decided that building in 2 grace days every week was crucial.

I’ve also decided that my goal is not cohesive content, but instead consecutive creation. I’m not trying to write a novel in the next 6 weeks, although I may spend many of my writing words on a couple of my novels-in-progress. I’m just trying to create a regular habit.

I’ve been creating and collecting writing prompts from a variety of sources. I have a writing pin board that I’ve been collecting ideas on for years. I’m also using the stack of writing books that I already own: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, On Writing by Stephen King, Page after Page by Heather Sellers, The Plot Thickens by Noah Lukeman, and Your First Novel by Ann Rittenberg and Laura Whitcomb. I’ll also include prompts based on something that I saw or read or heard recently.

My goal is to post the day’s writing prompt in the morning and then edit that post to include my 500+ words before bedtime that day. I’m posting the prompts early in case any of you readers/writers wish to join me. No pressure though. If a prompt happens to strike you and you want to run with it, be my guest. I’d love to read what you come up with.

But mostly, I’d love some accountability. It would be great to know that someone is reading these posts. That someone is looking forward to them, or even just cheering me on. So let me know if you’re out there friends, with a comment or even just a Facebook like. If you’ve got an idea for a prompt to get me started, I’d love that even more!

{I’m only at 400 words, so I’ve got to fill some more space.}

To be honest, I’m a little nervous that I’ve set the bar too high for myself. I’m really excellent at setting large goals and disappointing myself. But I also know that I can’t keep saying that “someday I’ll start writing regularly again.” I’m making my someday now. If this is truly important to me, I can make time for it. I will make time for it. There will be days of disaster, but I can combat those with all the days of success that have come before and will come after.

So, starting next week, look for my daily writing updates. Thank you for joining me on this digital journey.

Bicycles

Bicycles have been on my mind a bit lately. It is summer after all.

Last summer, I didn’t ride at all, since I was already 5 months pregnant at the beginning of summer. It just didn’t seem very appealing. But the summers before that, I was nannying and we biked a lot. I’ve been having a good time the last few weeks biking and pulling Connor in the trailer.

But a bike has struck me as a pretty good metaphor for lots of aspects of life. (And I’m sure I’m not the first person to realize this.)

So, in no particular order, here are my musings on bicycles and life:

  1. In order to ride a bike, you must stay balanced. And when you’re trying to move forward in your life, it’s important to keep physically/mentally/emotionally/spiritually balanced. {Remind me to tell you sometime about the three-legged table metaphor.}
  2. The first few times I was out on my bike this year it felt way harder than I remembered. Way harder than I thought it should be. Turned out there was a lot of resistance from my rear axle and brakes.
    Life lesson: when things aren’t going as smoothly as you think they should, take a closer look. Sometimes you can figure it out yourself, but sometimes this means talking to an expert.
  3. Biking in the city means you’re vulnerable. But being vulnerable can be a pretty good experience, don’t be too cautious.
  4. When we bike in groups, we always designate an “ass-man.” Nobody gets behind the ass-man, whose job is to watch everyone’s ass. Look out for each other, let other people set the pace sometimes, and make sure no one gets stuck always being the ass-man.
  5. This one is far more specific, and popped up in my Facebook memories recently:
    I have a very specific memory of a youth group biking trip in Itasca State Park, MN (side note, if you’ve never been, check it out: headwaters of the mighty Mississippi River and fabulous forest). I recall watching two of our leaders make steady progress up one of the steepest hills on the trail, pedaling together, and the husband had his hand on his wife’s back, pushing her the last bit of the hill.
    That’s always stuck with me as a vivid example of life in general, but married life especially. Sometimes we’re confronting an especially steep hill. Stopping won’t get you anywhere, you have to keep pedaling. But you’re more likely to succeed if you’re not alone. Sometimes you’re the pusher, sometimes the pushee, but supporting each other is something we humans need to do more often.

I’m sure there are more bike metaphors out there, and I’d love to hear it if you think of any.

And if you haven’t yet, get out there while it’s still summer. They say you never forget how to ride a bike. 🙂

 

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

The title of this post is kind of how my life has been feeling this last week or two. We’ve been dealing with some illness: colds, ear infection, eye infection. Nothing too serious, just frustrating. And I just feel like I’m running around never quite caught up on anything.

Welcome to motherhood, eh?

Anyway, this is supposed to be a Father’s Day post, so enough about me.

[Part of the reason this post is late is because the words have been failing me. So here’s my best attempt. Most definitely at least a dollar short.]

My father is one of my inspirations. He’s clever, creative, and empathetic. He shared with me his love of words. I will be forever grateful for his example and his love. He’s set a high standard that I hope to one day meet.

My grandfather was a strong, kind, hard-working man. I feel his absence often, but I also feel his presence in my mid-afternoon cookie cravings and over a good cup of coffee. He would have loved to meet my son.

My father-in-law is one of the hardest-working men I’ve ever known. A man who started a business and watched it grow into one of the most respected towing companies in town. He doesn’t think twice about doing what needs doing. But there’s a kind and playful heart behind the toughness. I’m honored to have joined your family.

My grandfathers-in-law: both pillars of their families. The successes of their children and grandchildren speak highly of their character. One, a man gone too soon, and missed especially for his sense of humor. The other, working tirelessly in an unforgiving profession to feed this country. I’m proud to have known you.

My husband. What an honor to see this man become a father. [This is where the words fail me most.] His strength, humor, love, and faith will continue to shape our family. I’m thrilled to share my life with him.

***

I think it’s worth commenting here how composing this tribute has shifted my mood. I’m reminded of the old hymn Count Your Blessings:

Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly,

And you will keep singing as the days go by.

My blessings are many, and just reminding myself of the ones limited to the influence of fatherhood in my life has lightened my spirit.

So maybe I’m still a day late, but I’m not short of anything.

***

Tell me about a father in your life.

How are you?

How are you?

It’s a simple question actually. One that we ask each other often. But, lately I haven’t been sure how to answer it.

In the grand scheme of things, my answer is: Good. Really good.

I love motherhood. My life has really balanced in the last few months. (Finally.) The number of out of the house activities is not too many. I’m getting a fair amount of sleep (less than I would have thought I needed). Connor and I have a nice, but flexible, daily routine. I’m finding time and energy for creative pursuits.

But, answering the question that way has two problems.

(1) It doesn’t usually lead to actual conversation.

That’s sometimes fine though. How are you? functions like Hello or What’s up? It’s a moment of connection. I see you. You matter.

But (2) it’s not exactly honest.

Motherhood is awesome. And awesomely hard. For every excellent moment, there’s at least one tough one.

The moment in the middle of the night where I lose my temper with the baby because I haven’t trimmed his fingernails and they’re digging in to the back of my arm.

The one where instead of greeting my husband with a smile, he gets a tired and cranky, Hey.

None of this is unexpected or abnormal. The problem is in how I process the feelings. I’m discovering that it’s important for me to learn how to share in a way that is both authentic and helpful. To own the feeling, then release it and move on. To say, “This is what I’m dealing with right now.”

I’m not totally sure what this will look like yet. As an introvert, it isn’t in my nature to be very forthcoming with my inner self. As a Midwesterner, it isn’t in my culture to whine about hardships. But as a human, connecting with honesty is important.

So if you ask me how I am, I’ll try to be honest.

Really good. And kinda bad.

 

How do you answer this question? What factors influence your response?

Origin Stories, Favorite Characters, and a Pinterest Prompt

I’ve found origin stories to be some of my most challenging pieces to write. You know what I mean, the backstory for your characters, how did they get to where they are? What makes them the way they are? Sometimes these details show up in the actual story, sometimes it’s just important for me as the writer to know, but either way, I’ve found this to be the hardest part of the process.

There are lots of forms and worksheets out there designed to help you figure all this out, and I’ve tried a few. But I’ve noticed when I do these worksheets, my character’s favorite color/food/book, etc, all become the same as my own. Whether that’s just laziness or realizing how much I am a part of my characters, I’m not sure. At the same time, questionaires like those are not always helpful for the genres I tend to write (sci-fi, adventure, fantasy).

For example, I have a couple of characters that I can’t seem to get away from. They’re teenaged super spies, Alicia and Cory. I have written at least 3 origin stories for them. And I’m talking full-length novel type pieces. I can’t seem to get this first adventure/mission right, the way I want it to go, with the right blend of action, suspense, humor, and campiness (because let’s be honest, teenage super spies as a genre has to be at least a little tongue-in-cheek).

But while I can’t seem to get them started, I have several drafts of stories that will easily follow the first one. Once I get these characters established as secret agents, as partners on various missions, and as a couple, I can write just about anything involving them. I know them. Stepping back into their shoes, falling back into their world, is as easy as breathing.

Alicia is slender and strong. Despite often being smaller than her opponents, she’s learned to use physics against them. She’s brilliant with technology and often uses it finds a way around a brawl. She knows her strengths, but like many teen girls (and people in general, really) she’s often hyper-conscious of her weaknesses. It’s not good for her to work alone, it gives her doubts time to flourish.

Cory is supremely confident. He’s quick to analyze a situation, and knows where his strengths and those of his team will be useful. He saw the value in his partnership with Alicia long before he did, and has spent several backstories persuading her that they make a good team. Despite knowing her abilities, he’s often overprotective of Alicia, exposing himself to danger in an attempt to keep her safe.

I ran across a writing prompt on Pinterest recently, and instantly I knew that this is a story for Alicia and Cory. And over the last few days I’ve hammered out this brief draft. Writing it has flowed so easily, I tend to be resentful when naptime is over. So, here it is, as it stands:

The Academy often conducted self defense classes for students as a guise for recruiting new young agents. Cory lost the bet, so he was assigned a group of Girl Scouts for the afternoon. Alicia lounged in the back of the room, prepared to watch the fallout.

She should have known better. No matter the situation, Cory was endlessly confident. Throw in his green eyes, winning smile, and a room full of eleven year old girls, and what should have been a disaster was quickly turning into an incredible success. There was a good chance of recruiting at least one new student to the Academy from this group. Maybe more.

Despite not going to plan, watching Cory teach basic martial arts and problem solving was making for a pleasant afternoon. He taught the girls as a group how to incapacitate a larger opponent and then let them take turns knocking him to the ground. One by one they left him lying on his back and returned to the group giggling.

Cory got back to his feet for the final time and met Alicia’s smiling eyes over the heads of his students”Well done everyone. How would you like to see a demonstration?” He beckoned to Alicia with a grin. The girls turned to look and began to clap and cheer. Alicia reluctantly stood and joined Cory in the front of the room. They faced off.

“Go easy on me,” he said. “I’ve had a rough day.”

“Not a chance.” Alicia moved quickly. Years of experience with Cory as a sparring opponent and partner had taught her to keep him on the defensive. If he gained momentum, she’d never been able to defeat him.

Their movements were sure and practiced. They knew each others’ strengths and tendencies as well as their own, which usually prolonged the match. This afternoon, Alicia noticed Cory moving a little stiffly, a result of being knocked off his feet a dozen times already. Moving quickly and constantly circling, she forced him to keep shifting and twisting to keep her in front of him.

Sweeping his legs, she sent him to the floor again, but tumbled on top of him when he hooked an arm around her knees. Before either of them could pin the other, the room plunged into darkness and a fire alarm wailed.

The troop leader stood from her chair in the back of the room and quickly gathered the startled girls around her. Alicia leaped to her feet and yanked Cory up. They cautiously started for the door.

“I’m sure it’s just a fire drill, girls. Nothing to worry about.” The leader calmly reassured her scouts.

“I’m not so sure,” Cory murmured in Alicia’s ear. She nodded.

Although they were using a classroom at a local university for their lesson, a fire drill on a Saturday in the middle of June seemed unlikely.

*****

What exactly is going on here? I’m not sure yet.

What I do know is that I’m clearly not done with these characters yet.

Or rather, they’re not done with me.

The worst writing advice I’ve ever gotten

So, my friend Jamie over at Arcane Geometry has a great post this week about writing and procrastination. When I have friends who blog, I faithfully read them, whether or not I agree or feel they apply to my life. Writing often feels lonely, but in my experience, it takes a village. {Side note: if you also blog, post a link in the comments. I’d love to follow you too.}

In general, when Jamie writes about writing, I tend to agree. Although, when we write fiction our genres are generally very different, I appreciate his feedback and truly enjoy reading his work. This particular piece about procrastination hit home. Often when I want to write, it’s so much easier to do something else.

The worst piece of writing advice I ever received relates to this. It sounds like a quote, but I’ve scoured the Internet looking for the original speaker to no avail. (Another fabulous procrastination technique.)

Before you sit down to write, make sure the dishes are done.

What this is trying to say, I think, is that you should make sure that any small projects that could be a distraction are taken care of, so that your writing time will be uninterrupted.

What I’ve taken it to mean, however, is that every undone chore or task ranks above writing on my priority list.

This cannot possibly be true! Because then no one would ever write anything. I’m pretty consistently behind on housework, and now that I’m a mom, I’m pretty sure this won’t be changing anytime soon.

I’ve been working to retrain my brain against this “helpful advice” for the past few months. Rearranging my priorities, essentially. Yes, there are some things that rank above writing on my daily list, but there are few things that rank above it on my weekly list. Writing every day may not be possible with an infant in the house, but I have no excuse for not writing something every week.

So whether your procrastination is internally or externally driven, remember there are ways around it. Ways to fight and reprioritize. And sometimes the way is simply to begin again today. To try again tomorrow.

Photo credit: http://www.theladyinread.com

 

I’d love to hear the worst advice you ever received, writing or otherwise. 🙂

 

Bring Back the Social in Social Media

Over the last few days I’ve been fasting from Facebook. Basically I deleted the app from my phone and only allow myself to look at it on my computer. It feels weird, but good. I’d mostly been scrolling mindlessly while feeding or rocking the baby, and all the intense feelings that people were posting were having an adverse effect on me as an Empath.

But as I was browsing today, I noticed that at least a dozen of my friends were contemplating cutting back on social media. Or posting articles like this one:

http://www.anndouglas.net/blog/2017/1/30/how-to-avoid-being-psychologically-destroyed-by-your-newsfeed

Which got me thinking.

If so many of us are feeling tired, stressed, or otherwise unwell because of our social media, isn’t it our responsibility to make a change? It belongs to us after all.

Like others, my change has been to cut back. Others are more drastic and choose to quit. But the more I think about it, I’m not sure that’s the best answer.

I’m also not sure that removing the people who share the posts that stress me most is the answer either. That feels a little too much like choosing teams, eeny-meeny-miney-mo, back in grade school. The Empath in me doesn’t like the idea of just removing people because we disagree, or because they bother me.

So what then? Where does that leave us? I’m not sure that I have the best answer, but this is what I’ve come up with:

I challenge you, readers, my village, to post more consciously. To post the things that you think will make for a more social media experience. I’m not saying to stay away from the negative, from the things that need changing, from the funny memes and videos, but also to post about you.

Isn’t that the reason that we got suckered into this in the first place? The promise of connection, both in your community and with others around the world?

Tell us about you. About your day. About your dreams. About your dinner, even.

The screens between us make it easy to hide behind the memes and the articles and the videos. Come out from back there and connect with me.

New Year Goals

For the record, I’m pretty terrible at creating and keeping realistic goals and habits. I think the main reason for this is because in my mind missing one day/week/whatever means I’ve already failed and keeping at it after that is really hard.

Yes, I’m aware that’s pretty ridiculous.

However, I was struck yesterday by a Facebook post by the author Kate DiCamillo (Tale of Despereaux and Because of Winn Dixie, among others):

A long time ago (23 years this January), I made a deal with myself.

I wanted to be a writer, but I was too afraid and uncertain (and truthfully: flat-out lazy) to do anything about it.

But in 1994, I was going to be 30 years old.

And I could see that it would be easy for me to spend the rest of my life dreaming and wanting and not doing.

So I told myself that I would write two pages a day.

Two pages isn’t much.

But if you show up every day, it adds up.

I’m thinking about all of this now, because in November of 2015, I started a novel and last week, I turned that (written and re-written and re-written and re-written) novel into my editor.

Can I just say?

I am so glad that I sat down and started to do the work.

I am so glad that I woke up.

There are a lot of aspects of this that hit hard. In 2017, I will also be turning 30. I also want to be a writer and am afraid, uncertain, and lazy about that work. Lazy and perfectionistic, a wicked combination for accomplishing anything.

Becoming a mother has shifted some of my priorities. My most important work for the next 18+ years will be raising my children. As C.S. Lewis puts it,

Children are not a distraction from more important work. They are the most important work.

But I know that story is a huge part of childhood (and adulthood too, if we’re honest), and that I have stories to tell.

So maybe the laundry won’t get done. Maybe there will be dishes in the sink. There will be dog hair on the floor and couch. But the people in my house will be fed and loved and read to everyday.

And the pages will be written.

And on the days that the pages don’t get written there will be grace.

But, two by two, here I go!

Humbled

This morning I am tired. And humbled.

Connor and I have had a few rough days/nights after being away for Thanksgiving. We had a great trip, but coming home has been hard. Today at 4:30am, I tearily told CJ some of my worries and that I didn’t know what to do and I just want to sleep.

Around 7am when he was getting ready for work and I was nursing Connor again, he told me he’d been doing some research and wondered if this might help my problem.

And I kinda yelled at him. I didn’t exactly raise my voice, but I definitely shut his suggestions down.

About an hour later, I apologized. But here’s the kicker: He said he expected it.

How awful.

To offer someone a solution to something they’re struggling with fully expecting them to snarl at you for it.

I’m sure there’s a deeper spiritual message here, but I’m too tired and too sorry to find it. This morning I’m just humbled by the grace my husband has shown me, and it’s overwhelming to consider the grace my Savior has shown me.

 

And now it’s time to feed the baby again.

Giving thanks… reluctantly

I’ve got to confess, I haven’t really had an attitude of gratitude lately. Or rather, I’m not feeling very thankful about Thanksgiving, because that’s what the main problem is. Our plans have changed several times, and none of the usual things are happening this year, which leaves me feeling disappointed instead of excited.

So I try to spin it in a positive direction:

I’m thankful to have an abundance of family within driving distance.

I’m thankful for a new-to-us van that can get us there.

I’m thankful that Connor is healthy enough to be traveling at one month old.

I’m thankful for those who will be doing the cooking.

But, all of those things came from my brain, not my heart. I know them to be true, but I’m not feeling them. Which is okay. And leads me to what I’m feeling honestly:

I’m thankful I have the creativity to come up with all of those things.

Happy Thanksgiving!