Writing – Individual Creativity

One of the most often heard advice for writers is:  – write whether you feel like it or not. Free style writing – is not free at all.  I cannot seem to force myself to write anything.

I used to seriously worry about that and pondered over my ability to ever be a good/true writer.  I just can’t write something down when my mind is blank.  That rule is my procrastination. I go watch TV, read a book or even play a computer game.  I find excuses – I need to clean the house, I need to visit my grandchildren and the list of excuses could probably get me writing the list down at least.  If I go to the computer – my mind is again blank.

Over the years I noticed that often watching TV, taking a walk,  watching my grandchildren or reading a book was much better inspiration than forcing myself to write – I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know... a thousand times.  That was after seeing the advice that not only should I write every day – but some actually force myself to a word count.  Oh horrors.

I have been out of school for so many years – what’s next?  Someone is going to write an article – or advice saying what the topic should be just like writing essays in school.  Write a thousand words on how good sharks really are – what?  I don’t think sharks are good at all.  They eat people.  It’s a proven fact – whether they are hungry or not – who cares?  If you’re eaten does it really matter that the shark was just hungry?

Then there are those who cry about a messy or even dirty house and they are always assured it’s quite alright – all writers are apt to ignore housework in favor of writing, because possibly they are that inspired it is right to ignore the dirt?  Again I wonder about my abilities to write.  I must sit down to a clean desk and a clean house.  My inspiration and creativity is lost if I’m sitting in a mess.  I watch the dust bunnies float around – I smell the fact I haven’t changed the litter-box and the inspiration I feel – just isn’t there.  I guess my writing is just a hobby.  I just can’t do it.

I am a morning person – I am apt to dose and yawn if I’m up too late.  It’s not an age thing – I’ve been doing it since I was a child.  So I bounce out of bed and greet the morning with a smile, all ambitious and eager to do whatever inspires me.  It could be writing, it could be taking a walk, it could be – God forbid, I might clean my house, sparkling clean.

Then I read many writers can write in the darkness and silence of night. This could especially apply to mothers of little children.  I have children and they were little too at one time.  But I can’t because I’m too tired.  It’s becoming so obvious I’m not a writer.  I just don’t do anything the way I’m ‘supposed’ to.

Then I wake up one morning (during the height of my creativity) I realize there are no rules – just write what you want.  There are rules publishing companies impose – there are rules some (never all because they are individuals too) readers might impose – but there are no rules for the writer himself if he wants to write.  Just write if you feel the urge – it doesn’t matter where or when.

I have seen using the rule – write when you want, write what you want – has created four published books for me.  Not once did I stay up in the middle of the night, sit in a dirty house or force myself to write when I wasn’t inspired.

The rules people apply to writers – are not ‘written in stone’. It’s a relief to know that for now I can write and not worry about whether I’m a writer or not.  I am!

Writing – follow your instincts.

As the urge invaded, I decided to write a difficult, complex story.  Seraphim is a story of abusive love, losing faith and renewal of faith in God and people.  In the spring I begin to understand renewal, but am having difficulty reasoning ‘how’ my character might understand.

With difficulties of abuse (both physical and mental), being a young teen when she has a child and no financial means to support her child, Delaney’s life is understandably complex and difficult.  Brought up Catholic she has trouble believing God could be so cruel and harsh.  She has done nothing wrong in her mind to deserve such punishment.  Yet her husband, an older man, a sheriff (who knows and uses the law in his favor), continues getting his way with no repercussions whatsoever.  

At this point I was getting confused – what possible reason would make her leave her husband after twelve years and what might  make her realize it’s up to her to change her life? I shelved my story and waited for something to ‘click’ which I tried to accept might be never.

Then what seemed like a normal occurrence, turned into guidance.  I started reading The Forgotten God.  My confusion has lightened.  I am getting my questions answered by researching to understand.

I am discovering research is not only a way to get facts, but also to get the inspiration and emotions needed to write a good story.  Be open for signs.

Seraphim by Mary M. Forbes

Writing Rule #2 – Truth or Myth?

Writing Rule #2:  POV – true or false?

All advice I’ve ever heard when writing is keeping your Point of View in one person’s thoughts.  I mostly follow this rule but was amazed when my favorite romance author, Judith McNaught didn’t follow this and created one of the most poignant, sexy scenes between a couple in her story –  Something Wonderful.  It’s her heroine’s first kiss and she is not even slightly interested. Her hero is well aware of his charm and where kisses can lead.  The thoughts jump back and forth between the hero and the heroine.  McNaught broke the POV rule to create a unique, memorable kiss.   

Writing Rule #1 – Truth or Myth?

I found this article very interesting and in conflict with what writer’s are usually advised, so I am re-posting it.  Thank you Elan Barnehama.

Rule #1:  Always Write what you know.   

WHY YOU SHOULD WRITE ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW –  Elan Barnehama March 5, 2013 

“I wrote a novel whose two main characters are lesbians.  This confuses some people because I am not a lesbian.  Because I am also not a woman.  And because I am not gay.

When I set out to write my novel, Finding Bluefield, I did not expect my main character to be a woman, much less for that woman to fall in love with another woman. But there I was, a straight man hooked by these two characters, Nicky and Barbara, and their voices, and the story they wanted me to tell.  As I ventured into unfamiliar-for-me- situations, my characters, Nicky and Barbara, found themselves in 1960’s Virginia navigating unknown territory during a time when relationships like theirs were mostly hidden and often dangerous….    

…I’m not sure who started encouraging writers to “write about what you know”.  At first glance it seems to make sense. Why not write about what I know when I know so much?  When I’ve done so much?  When I’ve seen so much?  But the writing process disproves this theory because the story is always better served by the narrative that could happen, that should happen…

…I wrote about characters who are different from me by gender, race, background, and religion.  There’s that risk of getting everything wrong.  But isn’t that where the fun is?  Making things up?  Finding the truth in the unknown?  It’s not always easy or comfortable, but I’ve learned to trust my characters and I’ve learned that the story truth is found in writing into the unknown…

…Maybe the real distinction, and I imagine this is true for many fiction writers, is that all my writing is autobiographical—in that it comes from me—but it’s not biographical, because it’s not about me.

In the end, if readers are able to connect it’s going to be through the essence of my characters’ humanity and the truth behind who they are and where they are going.

The obvious question is how do I know what I don’t know?  The answer is that I don’t.  I just write into unfamiliar territory and see what happens because I know that’s where the answers lie.  Sometimes I get lost.  Sometimes I get sidetracked.  If I’m lucky I find my way.  But the journey, yes the journey, is always worth it.

Romance Writer – Motivation

I think this might be all a romance writer needs for motivation…  Happy Writing.

Pictures – worth a Thousand Words.

This is a practice to improve writing skills.

For some time, another writer (Jumbled Writer)  and myself sent pictures to each other – with a word – unrelated to what the picture portrayed and challenged each other to write a thousand words on a picture.

It was a delightful challenge and one I suggest all writer’s use when the outside world intrudes, stifling creativity.

Tip #1: A picture – with one unrelated word: – Waiting.

WAITING:

Why haven’t I heard from him,’ I asked myself over and over, lost in an abyss of betrayal.   He promised he would come yesterday, yet still I sit waiting for him.

The sun is shining in through the windows but it only hits stinging, sore eyes.  Today sunshine does not make me happy.  He is not in the army – he’s not even working – so there is no excuse.  Why doesn’t he come to get me?

Oh those flowers – so many surround me like a cage.  My whole life has been a cage of rules and behavior.  I see not the colors but each pot a grey-like parallel bar that binds me to this house.  The cloying perfumes cause further queasiness in my stomach.  Why won’t he come?

At one time flowers were my life.  Flowers were my expression.  I could forget my problems – the abuse, the orders.  So long as I worked with my beloved flowers I could forget the horrors outside this room.  Carefully I planned my days surrounded by beauty – the beauty of my flowers.  Now, even they cannot block out my pain.  I have seen freedom.  I have ventured beyond these walls that trap me – that made me become something I am not.

I went from my father’s house of yelling and orders straight to my husband’s place of rules.  I must obey or suffer the consequences.  I have no freedom.  I am a woman only, nothing more precious than a man’s horse.   I am just another possession to a man.  It is the way of life.

Then I met him.  He was all I had prayed for in so many years.  My husband took me to a dinner party.  I chattered with the other women about my flowers, about their music, about the problems of keeping good staff.  All those topics that are of no interest or importance, while the men talked of those important topics – religion, politics or even their precious horses.  But not one woman dared interrupt their conversation.

I felt his eyes on me long before I dared look up.  He smiled.  I hastily looked at my husband to see if he was watching too.  My husband was busy with his other cronies.  I turned and dared smile back.  His eyes said everything to me.  His admiration was visible.

Later I excused myself to freshen up.  And he was there.  He is such a figure of beauty and hope – the hope for happiness and change.  I knew this instinctively as only a woman can.  I will come tomorrow, he promises.  I will set you free.  We will travel Europe and no one will find us.  We will sail a ship and we will enjoy the beaches of Europe in his Villa.  No more will I be held to trivial deeds.  Now I will do exactly as I please and no one will tell me otherwise.  Eagerly I go into his arms.  And the thoughts of being caught are a stimulus to my excitement.

Today is the day after tomorrow.  He has not come yet.  Soon my husband will be home and there will be no further chance to leave until tomorrow.  Waiting… waiting.

Paralysing Fear

Once – long ago – my oldest son asked me a question.  He was only a toddler – ‘Mommy what’s a stranger?‘.  It hit me like a rock and nearly knocked the breath from me.  It was all wrong.  I was instilling a fear inside my children that could cause future problems including their ability to think for themselves.  I instead chose a different route.  It was simple and direct in a way a child might understand.  Some would look upon my advice in horror.  I realized a stranger is only someone you haven’t met yet.  All strangers will not hurt you – and it might not be a stranger at all that would hurt my little boy and especially it might never happen.  I chose to put that fear inside me instead, and keep the fear of ‘what if – possibly…’ from my child. I chose to let him be an individual.

As life moves further forward I see fear taking over everyone’s life – and that fear is paralysing our children’s ability to think or reason for ourselves. Now there is fear of – what you eat, how you play, what risks you take (children are very bold beings) and everything they are taught will only increase that fear.  It’s not always parents (as is the popular belief) – it is society and rules and regulations placed by our governments and teachers. ‘Don’t climb that tree, don’t fight, tattle,  no, you can’t go around the corner to play with your friend, no, you can’t have sugar, I don’t care how upset you are – you can’t sit in the front – you must sit in the back in your car-seat and one of the worst – the police will throw you in jail… (reality – the police will only help a child) and using a lacking reasoning – a child screaming/crying is a real honest to goodness distraction from my driving abilities –  and it goes on endlessly.

A child is no longer taught the ability to think for themselves.  If a child is active, that child is diagnosed immediately.  He needs pills to calm down.

Yet, as it was in the past when they were taught to think for themselves,many modern parents often feel that children are ready to face this complex world when they are ‘unleashed’ after finishing school.  How can they make proper decisions if they’ve never been allowed to think for themselves?  Is this now becoming ‘a tiny amount of control’ most people feel they are losing in  all other aspects of their lives?

Fear
The fear that binds, inability to move –
To see – to function, to paralyze, what if…
– soon – or possibly – never?
Never – (as though it’s a new concept)
– Then what?  Who creates that fear-
Forever, never – to end.
The fear that binds, that chokes
That holds the fear firmly in place.
Enhanced – encouraged – taught.
Mannequins wander the streets
Living in false safety, Afraid to do anything
But what is told.
Listening in fear, no purpose, no function.
Voices are loud, resound inside.  Drowning out
Reason.  The ability to think, the ability to dream.

Anger slowly bubbles, drowning fear, replaced by fury.
Indecisive, threats and possibilities
Rage within.
Conquered by awakening, that fear that binds
Creates a strength –
“Do what you will.  I am ready,
Get it over with – so I can live.”
Freedom from fear that binds,
Freedom to think – to reason without
Those loud voices – they lie and shout.
Have the ability to think within
Your own reason – your own thoughts.
A heavy weight lifts from the chest.

… by Mary M. Forbes

A Writer’s Tool – The Sky

I was asked once by someone interviewing me why so many people from Saskatchewan are creative. With a low population Saskatchewan produces a large percentage of artists.

I immediately answered – our isolation, our connection with nature. I thought of the sky – which has dominated my life from the time I was a child. If you can’t get creative juices flowing with nature – you may not be creative.

One feeling I get from the skies above is a real knowing there is a God above.  I realize it’s me and often feel fortunate this gift was given to me.  I can see light shining from behind clouds and the knowledge of God penetrates for so long as I can remember.  At this time there are no questions.  It just is.

I saw God today. A sunset just a few days ago

Other days, especially those lazy, hazy days of summer I feel the heat – the draining effect of heat which is a wonderful tool as well in my writing.  It helps my explanation on something so simple as why an ambitious person with strength and drive, might give-up.  I know it won’t last – but even knowing I can realistically portray the feelings at the moment.

A sunset promising another hot day tomorrow.

 

I often look to the sky for inspiration in my writing.  A storm brewing creates anticipation or even excitement.  A clear sky with a few fluffy clouds floating creates peace and welcoming laziness – not draining – just leisurely.

A Writer’s Tool – Flowers

Have you ever wondered why children find the dandelion so beautiful they will give it to one of the people they love the most – their mother.  All children do this.  Yet, as we get older we see the dandelion as a pesky weed – not beautiful but annoying.

We teach children to destroy them.  It can be a perfect example of how we change perception.  It also teaches us that beauty is really in the eyes of the beholder.

As a child I enjoyed blowing those pieces of fluff into the winds as much as blowing bubbles.

Now, I see flowers as a wonderful creation for our pleasure.  Most women enjoy receiving and giving flowers as a symbol of love.  Different colors – in the roses – portray different things.  White – purity; Yellow – friendship; Red – love;  As an author of romance I have learned the various meanings of flowers and find it helpful in writing.

 

Flowers my son gave me for Mother’s Day. Tiger lilies – Saskatchewan’s (my birth place) flower. Did he know?

One of my favorite lines in a song is from George Strait’s ‘I saw God Today’ – a flower growing out of a crack in the concrete.  I can relate so well to that line.

 

Wild flowers in the sunshine. A walk in the mountains.

 

Flowers blooming on my mock-cherry tree. The promises spring gives you.

A Writer’s Tool – The Wind

Wind in the skies.

Wind has the ability to clear my thoughts and get rid of aches in my head.  Those aches I am now aware are caused by the stress of every day living. It’s not a headache – it’s just a niggling pain inside.

 

 

I have always loved the wind even as a child and teen.  Often I  still have an urge to feel the wind. When I was young I often combined the feeling of the wind with riding my horse.  When I felt  the urge for wind and there was none, I rode my horse. I no longer have a horse – so instead I use my vehicle, windows rolled down and speeding down a lonely road.

A storm brews in the winds on the prairies.

When I am confused and uptight whether in my writing or in my life, I seek the comfort of the wind.  I find the wind to be one of the greatest writing tools I have.

Amidst the hustle of everyday living – the wind and storm create beauty and cleared my mind.