Creative Catalysts

I spent the bulk of the weekend organizing the attic.  Well certainly not a life-altering event, it was at least 130 degrees up there.  If I didn’t already detest summer, this certainly would have solidified it.

Attic selfie.  Still smiling because heat stroke hadn't set in yet.

This has become an annual tradition.  The holiday’s end, I wait a bit longer than I should before taking the decorations down — which is a month long event — and by that point I’m so tired of seeing assorted Christmas trees, garland, and snowflakes that everything is hurled up into the attic in no particular order. 

This isn't even a quarter of the clutter.

Eventually, summer rolls about and I pop up to get everything in order before its November migration back downstairs.  Occasionally, I’m able to get the husband to assist.  Although, if given the choice, I’m certain this is the path Cliff would choose…

Cliff choosing the lesser of two evils.

Included in the attic organizing were the hundred or so St. Nicholas Square houses used in the village each year.

The 2016 village.

Oddly enough, those houses were the reason I found myself writing again after an incredibly long hiatus.

Each one usually has some sort of window.  If you peer inside, you can catch a glimpse of…something.  It could be an elderly woman knitting by a fireplace.  A family eating a meal at their dining room table.  A child gazing out the window.  It may even be an empty room.

Simple small talk at the market or something more sinister?

Where is everyone...?

I became fascinated by the views in an almost voyeuristic way.  Who were these people?  What was going on in their lives?  What if something sinister were taking place?

I sat down and started to write.  Originally, I planned to pen a simple short story to publish on my Facebook page.  Then I had a thought!  At the time, my house count was twenty-five.  What if I wrote a short story about each of the houses?  A single self-contained tale that would occur within each building, but all set in the same town.  I could post one story each day as a sort of literary advent calendar leading up to Christmas day.

It continued to grow from there. 

Even though I was aiming for a one-off on each building, I found myself continuing the action.  What transpired in the train station carried over to the hotel.  The events there leading to adventures in the library.  From there, the local pub.  It was no longer twenty-five short stories, but morphing into one long one.

And heck!  Since this entire project was going to be online, why not make it interactive?  Each day would end with a choice – a la the Choose Your Own Adventure book series.  

I purchased two new Choose Your Own Adventure books last week.

“Should Ian (the main character) continue looking for clues at the library or follow Ms. Cooper to her bakery?"  The reader comments would then dictate where the story went the next day. The response was incredibly positive.

Eventually, the entire venture blossomed into my first novel “The Stockings Were Hung.” 

"The Stockings Were Hung"

I’m always fascinated by the catalyst or creative spark that gets someone moving.  It can be something terribly traumatic like death or as simple as a ceramic Christmas house.

What inspired you to start writing or to pick it back up if you stopped?  Let me know in the comments section below.

A Night at the Club

Earlier this year, I joined the Main Pages Book Club.  It meets the first Wednesday of each month at the main branch of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library – which is conveniently located directly across from the building I work in.  A definite plus!  If you’re looking to join a book club, try to pick a location that makes it harder for you to miss a session.  How can I skip out when I merely have to cross the street to get there? 

The exterior of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library

I signed on after spotting a placard in the library while I was voting last fall.  One of the books they were planning to discuss was one that I happened to be reading at the time (The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters).  That was an easy in for me.  While I now shout the importance of proper book clubs from the rooftops, had I not stumbled across one reviewing a novel I was nearly through, I don’t know it would have captured my attention so quickly.

Why a proper book club?

Not all book clubs are created equal.  I enjoy this one taking place in a library and not someone’s home.  Aside from the atmosphere of books, it keeps it professional.  Don’t get me wrong – successful book clubs can certainly be hosted at a private residence.  However…they can be cleverly disguised social gatherings.   5% book discussion/90% wine sampling/5% latest gossip.  There was a great New York Times article on book clubs written by Judith Newman that was published in May.  It illustrates several reasons I advocate a less casual atmosphere.  I’m not interested in what little Susie did at preschool or what the milk man is up to with Mrs. Johnson.  I’m there for information on and about books.

No better atmosphere to discuss books!

It’s important to understand what you want to gain from attending.  For me, I was searching for insight into the minds of various readers.  What better way to hone my own skills than with a group of people who spend the most time with a writers final product?  It’s like having a free focus group!  Granted, each monthly selection may not be in the genre that I write, but so many reader expectations transcend those lines.  Is the dialogue strong and believable, do the characters come across as Flat Stanley or do they jump from the page, is the plot streamlined or too convoluted.

I also needed exposure to other genres outside my wheelhouse.  I like mysteries, I write mysteries.  When starting out as an author, I never ventured outside that realm.  Reading strong writing in various styles only provides you more strength as an writer.  Here’s a peek at the monthly reading list from March through August:

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (c2000 – short stories, humorous)

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (c1905 – classic)

The Girls by Emma Cline (c2016 – contemporary fiction)

Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf (c2015 – contemporary fiction)

Catch 22 by Joseph Heller (c1961 – classic)

Caleb’s Crossing by Geraldine Brooks (c2011 – historical fiction)

What a beautiful range!  Would I have selected any of these on my own – honestly, no.  That’s what makes the right book club such an amazing FREE resource.  It forces you outside of your comfort zone and the structure makes you accountable.  I don’t want to be the one that shows up and says “Uh…I didn’t read it.”  As an author, you should be exceptionally well-read in your own genre and well-read in all others.

Don’t be afraid to test the waters and find the right fit.  While not a book club, I attended a local writers group in February.  The facilitator blatantly steered people away from traditional publishing and strongly encouraged everyone to self-publish.  Did I mention the facilitator also ran a self-publishing business on the side?  I never went back.  If it doesn't feel comfortable, find one that does.

In a book club?  Have a horror story about one?  An invaluable experience in one?  Let me know in the comments section below.

Spare Change Your Writing Schedule

Aside from the normal Monday blues, the day always brings along a bit of regret with it.  Most often from not checking off enough items on the weekend ‘to do’ list to feel as though one truly accomplished anything.

How I miss the free time of youth.

A few planned odd jobs can quickly multiply into twenty or thirty as one completed project leads to another.  I was out pulling weeds in an area beside the house yesterday.  I cleared the entire area out, laid down the black landscape fabric, and topped it off with some mulch.  I was feeling quite accomplished.  

Then I realized the outside of the house was still dirty and needs to be power washed.  The tops of the bushes are getting some new growth and should be tidied up now before they get out of control.  I was by the chimney which reminded me I should get that swept and cleaned out now so it’s ready for fall.  And on and on and on.  My list quickly morphed like Tribbles and I felt that I really hadn’t done much at all.

The trouble with Tribbles!

As a writer, it often feels like that on any given day.  You plan to glue yourself to your seat and not leave until you bang out (insert your own personal goal) number of words or pages.  More often than not, you fall short and walk away from your workstation with that nagging feeling of regret.

Here’s the thing — progress is progress.  Whether it’s that weekend ‘to do’ list or your writing, every task you complete or word you get down on the page is one step closer to your goal.  Here’s the other thing — you have to commit to writing something.  The words are not going to write themselves.

If you aren’t writing full-time, life will often attempt to get in the way.  Consider tackling it as if you are saving spare change.

Deposit your words as randomly as you would spare change.

Let’s say you’re writing a novel and shooting for 85,000 words.  Spread that out over a year and it comes out to roughly 233 words per day.  That’s far more manageable than sitting down every few weeks and feeling the pressure to pound out considerably more.

It’s like losing weight.  You want it to come off.  You want it to come off right away.  BUT that isn’t how it works.  Writing is exactly the same way.  You want your book done, but it isn’t going to be completed in a day, a week, or even a month.  I know, I know…what about NaMoWriMo?  You may get 50,000 words down, but the odds are certainly stacked against you.  It’s like binge dieting or running.  Don’t get me wrong — I love NaMoWriMo, but if you aren’t able to run a mile without stopping, it’s difficult to dive into a marathon right out of the gate.

Some of my best pieces have been written on the fly when I stole a few moments to get them down.  They didn’t come out perfect and certainly needed to be cleaned up, but they were diamonds in need of polishing.  Those diamonds came in short chunks (see previous note on 233 words a day) vs. the repeated instances I told myself I was going to sit down and write several pages in a sitting — and didn't.

Pace yourself.  100 pennies in the piggybank still equal $1.00.

The Smell of Deja Vu

Yankee Candle is having an incredible sale right now.  Up to 75% off on some items, six for $60 on large candles, and 50% off on assorted accessories.

My all time favorite scent!

No, I am not a paid spokesperson.  Yes, I do enjoy both candle and bargains.

Yankee has always been my go-to for candles, but I’ve grown a particular fondness for Mick Kitteredge and his line of Kringle Candles.  Fascinating story there that we’ll circle back to in a future post.

Mick Kitteredge III

Why all the candle talk?

There have been numerous studies on how smells are heavily tied to emotions and memories.  The emotional piece shouldn’t come as any surprise.  People have been using incense, oils, and candles for meditation and relaxation for centuries.  But memory?  That is something they continue to research.

That feeling of déjà vu you experience when walking into a place you have never been?  Sadly, it isn’t some past life or psychic event.  Most often, there’s a particular smell in the air.  It may be so subtle you aren’t even aware of it.  In your head, it’s triggering a memory, but on subconscious level.  Since you aren’t actively processing it, déjà vu kicks in.  A quick read from a Scientific American article can be found here, but any Google search of “smell” and “memory” will have you off and running.

Usually, the smell is far more pronounced, which is why the déjà vu phenomena is so rare.  The scent of suntan lotion may take you back to particular summer.  Or the heavy aroma of Thanksgiving dinner being prepared returning you to that last dinner at Grandma’s before she passed.

The links between smell, memory, and emotion are incredibly powerful.  When writing, I use candles almost every session.  Where some have cellars filled with assorted wines, I have cabinets of candles.  If I’m working on a woodland scene, I may have a pine scent burning.  Exploring a creepy attic?  Let me dig out something with cedar. Scouring a cemetery at night?  Yes, I have a candle for that, too.

The scents reach into the deep recesses of my mind.  It allows me to feel as though I am in the scene, which allows for far greater depth and realism.  Think Sherlock Holmes and his use of cocaine.  Only this habit is far less dangerous!

Love at First Sight

It isn’t all about the smell, it’s also about the packaging.  The thought that goes into the label designs isn’t all that different from the effort that goes into designing a book cover.  Whether wandering between the shelves of your favorite local bookstore or viewing the walls at Yankee, something needs to inspire you to crack open the cover and read the opening line or open a jar lid to get the cold scent.

"Autumn Lodge" pulled me in.  The wooly throw draped over the chair, the book on the table, the wooden birdhouse in the background, the checkers on the table.  I could picture a fire in the fireplace out of view.  It made me want to spend an afternoon there.

"Christmas Eve" with Santa in his sleigh.  The reindeer and snow covered rooftops.  Seeing it, I wouldn’t know what it smells like, but I get an idea in my head of what I think it would.

"Archives" from Kringle Candle.  A leather bound volume of Shakespeare on the label.  I can almost smell the yellowing pages before lifting the lid.  I picture myself being in an old library.

"Season of Peace" I find to be particularly stirring.  It reminds me of a morning after a heavy lake effect snowfall back home.  The sun would be shining bright and if you stepped outside the blanket of snow deadened any sound.

"Christmas Tree" with the father and son pulling their fresh cut tree along while the mother looks on.  The snow on the ground, their bulky coats.  I can smell the winter air mixed with the pine.

Cliffsnotes on those labels – they all invoke some sort of emotion from within.  NEVER underestimate the power of good book cover and its ability to draw a reader in.

Let me know your thoughts on incorporating scents into your writing in the comments section below.

Bus Stopping

A fellow writer suggested I include poetry in my reading rotation.  I resisted.  I don’t write poetry, I don’t like poetry, why on Earth would I want to read it?  I was envisioning overly flowery prose and…well…poetry.  I can’t recall a single instance over the course of my life where someone said “Hey, friend!  Let’s hang out and read some poetry on Saturday night.”

I have nothing against it.  It’s simply never been something I’ve had a great deal of interest in.  Some people love football, others not so much.  Golf?  If we’re talking miniature – I’m in!  Eighteen holes around a course?  No, thank you.

Most every day while running, I pass by the same abandoned building.  It stands out now because on one side a Donald Justice poem has been painted.  

If you aren’t familiar with Mr. Justice, he was a Pulitzer Prize winning poet.  Sadly, he passed away in 2013.

The poem is called Bus Stop.  While stopping to catch my breath one afternoon, I took the time to read it.

When I was done, my view on poetry had changed dramatically as a result of one portion.

And the last bus

Comes letting dark

Umbrellas out –

Black flowers, black flowers

To me, that was brilliantly simple.  Dark umbrellas representing black flowers.  Such a powerful image conveyed in so few words.  

I began to appreciate how much of a challenge poetry must be. As a novelist, I have no less than 250 pages to get my story across.  Imagine having a few short paragraphs!  I have the luxury of being able to wander a bit, but as a poet almost every single word needs to help you reach that end game.

After that afternoon, I began to review my own work to see how I could make it tighter.  What could I take out?  What could I punch up?  What can I do to get this across to the reader in the fewest – but most powerful words possible?  

I even named the process – bus stopping.  adj. the act of condensing verbose writing to a condensed form with strong meaning.

What are your thoughts on poetry?  Or using poetry as a guide in your own writing?  Let me know in the comments section down below.

Embracing the Negativity

As a writer, you spend a great deal of time alone.  It may be hours of staring at a blank page in an almost insane attempt to will words onto the page or moments of exhilarating breakthrough where your fingers aren’t able to keep up with your mind.  In either case, most often you are alone.

Admittedly, I'm not alone tonight.  Lucy is keeping me company.

The words you write and the stories you tell can become incredibly intimate.  So much so that when an opportunity to share presents itself you find yourself on the verge of a mild panic attack.  As if locked outside your home in nothing but your unmentionables for all the world to see.

In my writing class, we’re able to read our work aloud for others to hear.  If you aren’t comfortable with that, you can simply say “I’ll pass…” and the instructor will move on to the next pupil.  In the first half of the semester, you simply shared.  These last few weeks, it has been to share and receive feedback.  I was curious to see if the number of people who read aloud decreased when having immediate feedback was introduced.  I was delightfully surprised when it did not.

Feedback is essential to growing as a writer – even when it’s negative.  I’m not talking about negative in the internet troll sense.  “This book sucks!” is not feedback, it’s simply rude.  Offering up an opinion with a qualifying reason is - “This didn’t work for me because the main character felt flat.”

The dreaded internet troll!

The first time I had some of my work come back from an editor, it was earmarked “Take some time to look through my notes, absorb them, and we’ll talk.”  I laughed when I read that as I imagined how often she must get offended responses from clients.  As nervous as I was about her insight, I was more excited to have an objective look at what I had done.  

Getting negative feedback is important.  Being open to negative feedback even more so.

I took tennis lessons growing up.  When I made a bad shot, the coach called me out.  I could storm off the court, throw my racquet, shout obscenities…to what end?  I still made a bad shot.  If he hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have become a better player.

I still play tennis today.  In all our matchups, Cliff has only beaten me one time.

As a writer, you spend a great deal of time alone.  It’s critical to get outside of your own head to hear how others interpret your work - good or bad.

Negative is not bad.  Embrace it.  Understand it.  Learn from it.

What are your thoughts on receiving feedback?  Let me know in the comment section below.

88 Keys to Success

I ordered a digital piano this week.  After doing several comparisons, I selected the Williams Allegro 2. 

Now…before any piano playing purist pipes up, let me explain.  I understand this isn’t a “real” piano.  I wanted the full eighty-eight key spread, but in a manageable size.  One I could use in the upstairs office while practicing or bring down into the den during the holiday’s so family and friends could sing along while I play as if we all just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting.  In anticipation of those quaint evenings, I even ordered the sheet music from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.

The sheet music is already here, the piano is due to arrive tonight, and then the magic begins, right?  I’ll simply sit down in front of the keyboard and bang out sweet melodies that would make Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart proud.

Hardly.

If you’ve been following along with my 2017 exploits, you’ll know I’ve been taking several classes.  Writing, grammar, mental mathematics, memory, and Spanish.  This past week, one of the other students in my class was expressing her frustration.  She enrolled, she was attending class, but she didn’t feel she was getting better.  I asked how much time she spent outside of class practicing.  Her answer?  None.  I felt she was a little put off by my even asking.  She continued on about how she paid for this class and wasn’t this class supposed to be teaching her?  Thankfully by this point, I had reached my car and was able to make a quick escape.

Years ago, I took organ lessons.

The lessons taught me how to play.  The same way the classes I’m taking now are teaching me – and my fellow students.  After I placed the order for the piano, I hopped onto Amazon and ordered “Teach Yourself to Play Piano” to reacquaint myself with the basics.  I know an organ and piano are two separate beasts, but the basic principles are the same.  I can use this book to tie them both together.  The bass staff, the treble staff, grand staff, quarter notes, and so on.

Here’s the thing – I can’t simply buy “Teach Yourself to Play Piano” and expect after one reading I’ll be off and running.  You have to practice what you are taught.  My fellow student shouldn’t expect that after simply attending classes that she’ll be an expert on the subject if she doesn’t practice.

The classroom offers the way…the road map…for you to get to your destination.  In order to actually make it you, need to do more than simply look at it.

After I practice the piano enough, I’ll post a video of my progress.

What are your thought on the topic this week?  Let me know if the comments section down below.