The stories are for you to discover, and may that journey be a magnificent one.
Here’s your linky:
Those two words are some of the most powerful a writer can use… The End. Sounds pretty intense, hm?
And well they should. This is the final day of the first Round of Words in 80 Days of 2017, and I don’t know about you all, but I feel like I need at least one or two more of these little darlings before things are working the way I’d like them too. That means goals and plans for Round 2 in 10 days, but no more check-ins until April 2nd. I will post a linky this coming Sunday for people to post their goals at, but there will be no post next Wednesday (unless someone wants to volunteer and write something inspirational 😉 )
Speaking of inspirational… do you know all the great people involved in the ROW80 these days? From our founder, Kait Nolan, to our Facebook admins, Shan Jeniah and Denise Young, to our great members… and even myself, the ROW80 is seething with friendly, inspiring creative types. If you have been peeking into our blogs but haven’t joined, why not do so in our upcoming Round 2?
For now, let’s just do our end-round check-in and assessment of our progress. Just add it to our linky:
Sometimes, I find answers in the efficiency of nature.
Take the sidewinder rattlesnake. Here’s a video of her in action. A note for the squeamish – nature doesn’t offer grocery stores. Like all wild predators, Miss Sidewinder has to take other measures if she wants to eat.
You’ve been warned.
How does that relate to my trickiest writing issue – revision?
For many years, I had no real idea how to revise. I poked aand tweaked, but I was missing major pieces of the puzzle. They didn’t fall into place until I channeled my inner sidewinder.
Miss Sidewinder has venom, but she also has a problem: she lives in a climate where she stands out.
When I first tried to revise a novel, anyone who looked could see the tracks I made. Where revision should look seamless, mine was as obvious as a snake sidewinding her way up a sand dune.
Miss Sidewinder has to conceal herself to catch her dinner. She digs herself into the loose sand, where her coloring helps her blend in. The horned scales over her eyes keep sand and glare out.
I needed to learn how to immerse myself in word-sands, and wait for my prey. I hadn to observe carefully, so when the right prey came along, I’d be ready to strike. Instead of horned scales, I have an adaptable human brain. I can learn things that help me capture my quarry – revision that goes somewhere without being obvious about it.
Miss Sidewinder uses her lateral movement to scoop out the sand. Once she’s wiggled a hollow out, she curls into it, letting the sand slide back in to cover her. Then she waits for her moment.
I went sideways, too. I read a book called Rock Your Plot, and learned about key elements like story structure and the need to understand my character’s goals, motivations, and conflicts. That led me to Rock Your Revisions, and I wiggled out a hollow in my mind and settled in.
Eventually, seeing what needed to happen in revisions got a lot clearer – and the drafts I’m creating with my new plotting know-how are faster and cleaner right from the start. My prey is easier than ever to catch.
Miss Sidewinder also has an inborn imperative to perpetuate her scaly species. Once she gives birth, Mama Sidewinder stays at the little burrow, guarding her young.
Mama’s Little Sidewinders are cold-blooded babies. The desert outside the burrow is too hot for them to survive at first. Their underground home is too cold. Mama can’t share her body heat, the way warm-blooded critters can.
Caught between deadly extremes, the baby snakes do something amazing.
They work together, forming a net at the entrance to the burrow with their tiny, writhing bodies, and regulate their collective body heat to a very constant temperature . Each baby takes turns, always moving, and, together, they do what’s needed to survive.
There’s something to be said for banding together, networking to reach the collective good, with every member making contributions and reaping rewards as others do the same.
After NaNoWriMo 2015, three other local writers and I formed a critique group. Our goal is to each submit one piece weekly, and critique the works of the other members. I also do beta readings and reviews for other members of the writing community.
This might seem like a sideways approach. I have several WIPs of my own awaiting revision. Surely I could get through them faster if I weren’t spending hours each week offering input to other writers, right?
I want a sustainable writing business that brings in a modest income. I need to learn how to revise as efficiently as Mama’s Little Sidewinders maintain their body temperature.
If I only revise my own writing, I’ll always know what I meant to write. I might see that rather than what’s actually there. I would always know the backstories, and the process of creation, and I’d cut myself slack whether I meant to or not.
Joining a group where I give three critiques for each piece I submit quadruples my workload. ButI want to become proficient at the principles that will help with all revisions. The distance and objectivity of critiquing and beta reading for others gives me lots of practice where I don’t know the “inner core” of the story – the vision only its creator can have.
In return, I get critiques from my three partners. Each has a unique way of reading and specific skills that mean that I get three distinct opinions on each piece I submit. I’m learning a lot from the comments and questions I’m getting, and from reading and critiquing their work.
We are all sidewinders in ROW80! By setting our own goals, being accountable, and by visiting one another to offer kudos, encouragement, or commiseration, we’re banding together like Mama’s Little Sidewinders, in a network aimed at collective success, but which relies upon each individual doing their part.
Let’s slither sideways up the slopes of our writing challenges, and band together for the common good as we move into the final weeks of Round Three, and beyond.
Do you have any odd little quirks to the way you do routine tasks – things that make perfect sense to you, but maybe not to anyone else?
When I take laundry out of the washer, I shake out each piece before dropping it in the basket. Once, while watching me do this, my Accomplice said, “You could just put it all in the basket at once. The dryer doesn’t need it to be separated.”
He was right – if my goal had just been getting the laundry into the dryer. But, while I shake out our clothing, piece by piece, I think about who owns it, and how thankful I am to have them in my life. I remember special memories and everyday moments that article of clothing was a part of. I get amazed, again and again, at how quickly the children have gone from tiny socks and onesies to people with clothes almost as large as my own – or, in my teen son’s case, larger!
For me, the laundry is a chance to be mindful of our right now. It connects me to the story of our family – almost two decades now of washing laundry as a married woman, and almost fifteen of doing it as a parent. Sometimes, now, those once-babies do the laundry, and I’m removed from this stage of the process. In what might seem the blink of an eye, I could be back to washing for two.
Clean laundry is more of a happy side effect, for me. My deeper purpose is to savor and relish the moments and the fact that we are all here, together, right now, when we haven’t always been, and may not always be. Dirty laundry is more than just a chore to me – it’s the story of us.
So what does this have to do with writing?
Sometimes I forget that my purpose is to be mindful. I get frustrated a the endless round of things I feel I should be tending to. I do them with a spirit of “gotta get this done” that saps the joy, and makes the doing more like a punishment than a blessing. I forget that some people don’t have a home to tend, a family, or passions that beckon and fulfills them. I’m fortunate enough to have all of these, and more.
When I’m in a funk about the goals I’m not meeting, I forget the deeper reason for setting them – whether that’s hometending that makes this a more pleasant place for all of us to live, or embracing my passion for writing, or supporting my childrens’ learning.
It can be easy to get swallowed up in the pursuit of goals, to the point where we forget that we have a higher purpose.
That to-do list mentality gets in the way of finding something much less tangible, and much more valuable. If we’re lucky, we get a reminder, and a chance to reset, like I did a few weeks ago, when I had one of the most intense migraines of my life.
I also had a long list of writing goals I wanted to attend to.
Writing was absolutely out of the question. That added to the tension of being incapacitated – until I had a revelation. I was making myself even more miserable because I couldn’t meet the arbitrary time frames I’d set. I was getting hung up on concrete goals, and that kept me focused on what I couldn’t do.
I decided to set time limit goals aside in favor of the purpose they were intended to serve: creating and preparing my Kifo Island novel series for self-publication.
Goals are the path to contributions. Completing a goal is an achievement in the service of the overarching purpose it supports.
Contributions are larger scale, and make an impact. For instance, writing a rough draft of a novel is a goal; bringing the book to publication is a contribution, with many more steps (achievements) between the two.
In my laundry story, the goal is clean clothes. The contribution is mindfulness in my service to my family – a much bigger deal, for all of us.
This is an important distinction, because I sometimes get into a mindset of wanting to complete my goals without considering if they still support my desired contributions.
Here are some signals that clue me in that I’m in a “goal” rather than a “contribution” frame of mind:
A home that slides too far into unlovely chaos;
Feeling like I’m cheating on my writing if I don’t get to the computer right away, and stay there;
Frustration with other activities of daily life (like needing to sleep and eat!) and the inevitable hiccups along the way, because they’re “taking me” from my goals and my work.
What if I find myself slipping back into that “to-do list” mentality:”
I’m giving myself permission, here and now, to take time off. I will set my list and schedules aside for a day or three, and allow myself the space to just be – without guilt.
or to do something absolutely not writing-related in any sense,
or to dive back into writing for the sheer passion of it.
So…I’ve talked a lot about me. Now, it’s your turn:
Are your goals working to move you closer to your contributions?
Do you know what your intended contributions are?
Are there steps you can take to relax and make sure you’re putting your energy, time, and focus to the best use to support those contributions, while not making yourself crazy with “have-tos”?
If you answered no to the first two points, I hope you’ll join me in taking some time this round to consider how to get a better handle on your goals and contribution planning, so that you get the most out of the time you’re writing – and the time you’re doing those Other Things life is full of, without stressing yourself out!
I write a novel for CampNaNoWriMo.
I blog alphabetically during the Blogging From A-Z April Challenge.
This year, I’m also serving as a minion there, in addition to my ROW80 sponsor duties.
I write a Story A Day.
I’ll plot another novel in my Kifo Island Chronicles.
I’ll draft that for JuNoWriMo.
I’ll plot yet another for July’s CampNaNo.
With all that happening, why would I decide to take on something big? Something that’s been lurking there in the dark shadowy places of my mind for decades? Something that feels like taking a flying leap off the crumbling edge of an infinite abyss?
I’ve been writing fan fiction since I was 13 and fellow ROWer (and friend since we were 4) Eden Mabee dragged me kicking and screaming into my first love affair with a Vulcan. We wrote as a way to liven up some of the creativity-sapping numbness of public high school, passing several notebooks full of mostly spectacularly bad stories back and forth, mucking up one another’s storylines, evolving as writers. We were passionate about what we created.
We cut our writing teeth on those stories, which expanded to include other fandomsand aspects of our own lives. During those years, we also created original characters and story worlds that are the origins of what we both write today. Neither of us would be as strong without those early collaborative efforts, and the things we learned in the course of them.
Through April, I’m expanding each of my Boldly Go Star Trek: Enterprise A-Z stories, and sharing them publicly at fanfiction.net. While I’ve been sharing myEnterprise stories on my own blog since 2014, there’s a certain security in that. Folks who come to read there generally know me from somewhere, and there’s lots of other material there, as well. That means that the fan fiction wasn’t the first or only way someone was likely to encounter my writing. I wouldn’t be judged, as a writer or a person, solely on that.
So, this month, I’m taking lots of deep breaths and flinging myself out over the edge. I’m sharing these stories, and I plan to keep on doing it. I’m offering them up in a place where they can stand in the light, then lift swiftly or leisurely from the ledge, to soar and dance and laugh and sob and be free, right there for all comers to see them, read them, and know a bit of my passion, and my self.
It’s my proving ground. I won’t earn a penny doing it, but there are things to be gained that money can’t buy. Self-expression. Honesty. Wholeness. Acceptance of myself as I am.
There’s a myth that Amish quilters create an intentional imperfection in their quilts, because only God can create perfection. It’s known as the “humility block”. Although the myth turns out to have been created in 1948 (by a quilter who frequently erred, but wanted to keep moving on to other projects, perhaps?), there’s something to be said for simply accepting imperfection – in quilting, and in life…
And, yes, in our writing and blogging, too. Recently, fellow blogger Linda G. Hill shared this post. She talks about her struggles with how much to edit her blog posts, which publicly represent her writing ability. While commenting on that post, I discovered the seeds of this one, and a focus to carry me through this round.
Here’s how I blog:
I revise each post at least twice in my word processor.
I use templates for all my regular features. Once I know permanent elements are OK, I don’t have to go over them.
I review at least once more while pulling together links, videos, and images, then preview and tweak when I think I’m done (I’m almost never as done as I think I am).
And I still miss things…typos, repeated words, incomplete sentences, clumsy phrasing, broken links…
So what do we do, when we goof up despite our best intentions to create perfection?
What do I do?
I pay due diligence, publish, and move on with my life.
If I catch something, and I’ve got the time and focus available, I’ll pop in and fix it – but I’m human, and humans err sometimes…
So, if I’m in the middle of Other Things, and the error isn’t egregious – I leave it there. Yup, I make it into my very own version of a humility block. I let the mistake stand there, a visual testament to the incontrovertible fact that I’m far from perfect, that I make mistakes, and that sometimes I just have to live with them and get on with my life.
This video has some gems about perfection and the prison it can be. If you’re pressed for time, go to 16:40, and listen from there.
I give a lot to my blogging – and more to my writing, and my family. I hope that anyone reading my blog will overlook a few mistakes, especially given the volume of posts I publish, and the content density of those posts. After all, I’ve never claimed to be an editor, and I named my blog Lovely Chaos, so I don’t think I’m promising perfection I can’t measure up to without taking from other important areas of my life.
Maybe someday, I’ll get the time and focus to go back and make nearly 2,000 posts perfect. But I doubt I will -or that I even want to. I blog, and write, to connect, communicate, and create. I can do that without being unfailingly brilliant, witty, and technically perfect. For my eventually-to-be-published books, I will be hiring an editor (rumor has it you can find great editing at an affordable price here).
For blogging, though…I do the best I can, and then move on. I do what’s reasonable, and doesn’t make me nuts. Then, I take a deep breath, and let it go out into the world, even if it’s got a missed stitch, or tangled threads….
I have this fantasy that the person who invented the ‘humility block’ myth did it so that they could pretend that their mistakes weren’t really mistakes – they could pass them off as intentional errors, and stroke their own egos.
I’d rather claim my mistakes, and learn from them as they go. I’m not interested in blogging or writing less to make time for more editing, and I’m even less interested in taking that time from my family or hometending. I’m a writer, and a wife, and a mother, and I have other obligations. I’m sure that even if yours don’t match mine, you do too. Very few of us life in a vacuum, after all, and, even if we did – what would we have to write about?
This round, my personal challenge is to allow my imperfections to simply be. Maybe it’s paradoxical, because this is also the year I intend to become faster and more thorough at revisions…but I’m maybe just naive or optimistic enough to believe that these two goals can co-exist. I think it’s possible to give ourselves to the revision process, the way I go over my blogposts, and then, when we know we’ve done the best we can, given our due diligence – to release our words. Maybe first to a critique group, beta readers, and/or an editor, but then, once those things have been done and another pass made, to the world…
By the end of the year, I will have self-published my first short story. I’ll know it’s not perfect, and that it never will be exactly what I’m imagining it could be. But I’ll still press ‘send’, and, in so doing, become an indie publisher, as imperfect at that as I am at being a human.
What can you do, if you release the chimera of perfection, and let your best be enough? Because, as Hawkeye Pierce once told Father Mulcahy on M*A*S*H, “Best is best.”
Let’s all do our best, and then let go!
bad, but thinking makes it so. Hamlet Act 2, scene 2
Sometimes, it’s those same obstacle-inclusive lives that offer a path toward dealing with the non-planned challenges they present.
My life just happens to include an eleven year old live-in guru. In helping her navigate the vagaries of her own life, I often find tools I can use in my own – one of the job perks of being a mom.
This round, I’m challenging myself to seek gratitude when the inevitable adversities present themselves. Can I look beyond what’s lacking, and see the potential gifts and benefits that are offered in evident setback? Can I shift goals and priorities, or learn new ways of doing things that will continue to move me toward my goals? Can I appreciate what I have, while I move toward resolution to difficult circumstances? Can I continue to strive toward my dreams, even through adversity?
I’m going to try, and I invite you to join me. Let’s lift Schrodinger’s glass together, and drink a toast to the challenges we set for ourselves, and the ones that life offers up as surprise packages.
I‘m going to start this inspirational post with a video. Those who know me probably won’t be surprised to see that it’s a Star Trek clip. If you’re not into that kind of thing, don’t worry. You don’t need to watch it; I’ll give a summary after the fact, so you don’t miss the pertinent details.
I can still remember the first time I saw this scene, and how potent it was to me. There’s Spock, katra and body finally more or less reunited, clearly at the end of a marathon of Vulcan retraining, mastering every question put to him by three rapid-fire computer screens with ease and agility, until –
“How do you feel?” ask all three computer monitors, at once.
And Spock becomes immobile, unable, at first, to form any response at all, and then, hesitantly, after a repetition or two, he answers, simply and truthfully, “I do not understand the question.”
At which point his human mother walks in, and informs him that the computers know his dirty little half-human secret, and no amount of Vulcan mind retraining can prepare him for the emotions that go with that Terran DNA he got from her (yes, I’m paraphrasing.). And then she goes on to tell him that emotions are inevitable.
Even if Spock doesn’t know how he feels, he is going to feel. Until he learns to identify and cope with his evolving emotional state, his learning will be incomplete. His mother and the computer diagnostics are preparing him for his re-entry into the world of human emotion – the kind that tends to defy even Vulcan logic.
By the resolution of the movie, when Spock asks his Vulcan father to tell his human mother that he ‘feels fine’, we see that he has come to some level of peace with the emotional realities of his existence.
You might be asking yourself, by now, if this really is a ROW80 sponsor post. Don’t worry; you’ve come to the right spot.
I’ve been asking myself Spock’s perplexing test question frequently this month, and I expect I will keep on asking. July is tricky for me. Births and deaths come close together, and span a good deal of the month.
How do I feel?
Last week, my daughter had a birthday. It was a lovely day. We’re car-sharing with my Accomplice, and, while dropping him off at work, we decided to walk a little ways to a thrift shop we’d passed. That led to a walk to the bank to break a bill too large for a small business, and to my daughter finding money on the street, then to a used bookstore.
We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, came home with some new treasures, and laughed a lot. It was happy, fun, and fulfilling, to have that time just with her, to celebrate her growing up, and the way the curtain is slowly peeling away to reveal traces of the woman she’ll be, in another few years.
A few hours later, I was crying. Not tears of joy, or even sadness at the fact that she’s not little anymore – honestly, while I love little children, these big ones are amazing, and I don’t want to go backwards in time.
I was crying for the child I gave birth to, and who never had the chance to grow up, cry, nurse, or even leave the NICU of the hospital where he was born. I was crying for him, and for myself, because today – Monday, July 13 – might have been his twelfth birthday – but instead, he lived only twelve days, the majority of that in a coma.
How do I feel?
It shifts. I suppose that’s always true, for all of us, but, in this month of highs and lows, it’s more noticeable to me.
How I feel matters. It matters in the way I approach my day, how much energy and focus I have to give to anything, whether writing or not, my level of tolerance for change and frustration – even what projects I’m emotionally able to work on.
Certain things are too triggering this month, and, because I live with people and can’t just crawl under my covers and hide with my grief, I tend to avoid them until I feel I’m on more stable emotional footing.
It matters, too, in my fiction. There’s deep value in paying attention to our characters’ emotions – so often, they drive motivations, introduce conflict or resolution, make the reader care about some characters, while wanting others to get just what they deserve…
And they add texture, depth, and breadth to the story. Emotions can be the blood in the veins and the breath in the lungs that makes characters more than paper dolls the writer is playing with…like theVelveteen Rabbit, they become Real when they feel…
So, this round, my round of reflection, I’ll be asking myself, often, “How do you feel?”
And I’ll use the answers to become a better, truer writer.
There’s no trick involved, other than being pressent and open to your own emotional state. You can do it, too.
So, now, once again, I ask you –
“How do you feel?”
It seems like a simple enough question, doesn’t it? Maybe even a little pointless?
Or maybe not.
ROW80 is, after all, the writing challenge that knows you have a life. And the thing about lives is that no two look just the same. That’s exactly what makes the act of setting personalized goals so empowering. Each of us can decide what we want to accomplish, based on our own vision, our own reality, and our own nature. We can have one goal, or many. We can have goals that, on the surface, have nothing to do with writing. Our goals can be short term, or take an extraordinarily long view, or anywhere in between.
It’s all up to us – each of us. Every time we check in, we have the chance to evaluate those goals, and to decide if they still work for us, if they fit with our vision, our reality, and our nature.
And that’s why knowing how we tick matters.
Take me, for instance. I’ve got a wide-angle mind; I do better with a sweeping variety of projects I can flit between. I’m OK with things taking longer than they would if I did doing one thing at a time. Every thing I’m engaged with feeds others in a symbiotic relationship, forming new connections encouraging plot tribbles and new projects.
That might be torture to those of you who have laser-focus minds, or just like a more minimalistic, tidy approach that allows you to see big gains, fairly quickly, in return for your effort.
Lots of projects keep me energized, like carrots that luring me to say, “Good enough; let’s get on with other things now,” rather than, “It’ll never ever be good enough, so why do I even bother?”
That’s just part of the way I tick.
Like many of you, I’m a parent, in addition to being a writer. That, of course, puts wrinkles in my plans and my life that wouldn’t be there if I didn’t live with children. Having a spouse and a house adds others, and so do the companion animals who share our lives.
We homeschool, so while we aren’t tied to school schedules, I have paperwork to contend with several times a year. I spend most of my waking hours in close proximity to my kids. I might need to interrupt my writing anytime, because I’m their mom, and that’s part of my job.
For me, with this parenting and educational reality, my many diverse goals mean that there’s always something I can be doing to move me closer to my long-range vision. Shorter, easily stopped, less focus-intensive projects when the kids might need me, or I’ve got things to do or places to go, and longer, more challenging goals for when they’re doing their own thing, and I’m free to devote a stretch of time to my own.
For those who aren’t parents with children at home, or who have older or younger kids, or who pursue other educational paths, there might be a definite schedule that brackets when you can write, and what type of writing projects you can manage. One thing at a time might work best, in those situations, or just a few things that can be cleared from the to-do list fairly quickly.
With many goals, I can adapt to the changeable and free-flowing nature of my life. I need that, to keep ticking along.
Many of my fellow ROWers combine work and writing. I can decide when to write, and for how long, and I don’t have a schedule as much as I do a certain rhythm to my days. When they were little, writing was hit-or-miss, and it may be again, when we enter the ‘old enough to have a job, but not old enough to get a license phase’ next year.
I’ll need to adapt, then – and that’s part of keeping my writing ticking along, too – the knowledge that life is change.
Each of our lives has a list of particulars far more complex than I’ve touched upon here. No one else can tell you what will make you more or less likely to achieve your goals, or what goals will suit you best, or even how to define whether you’ve succeeded at them. All of these things will depend on your unique situation. If what you’re trying to achieve, and the way you choose to pursue it, matches the way you tick, you’ll be free to focus on your goals, rather than struggling to fight your life or your nature.
So, what makes you tick? How do you like to write, and how does that fit with the rest of your life? How does your mind approach goals and challenges? Learning in general? If you haven’t given it much thought, adding that to your goals might do wonders for your progress, this round and beyond.
Fall is at hand – a time when many of us scurry about like busy rodents, sprucing up our family nests to better suit the long indoors months. But, since this is ROW80, I have a question for us all:
What about our writing nests?
I love imagery – since I was a little girl, it’s helped me to make sense out of complicated ideas. I envision my writing life as a sheltering construct woven from interconnected threads, and from time to time, I need to look these over, replace frayed bits, get rid of the debris, and tighten things up. The energy of fall is perfect for this, and that will be my focus for this round.
Want to join me, and reweave our writing nests together? Here’s a few ideas to get us going.
Assess the Framework:
A nest needs a base structure, a frame to hold all those threads together. Without our bodies – well, we wouldn’t exist in the physical plane, and writing would be much trickier! Let’s give our bodies what they need to support all those other threads:
- Feed the need. Sometimes, when I’m deeply engaged with my writing, I forget to eat. Not good for creativity or my body. Let’s remember to schedule in food breaks, and eat things that make us feel good.
- Get a move on! Writing can be sedentary, and time can pass without us being aware of it. Let’s get moving every hour or so, to oxygenate our blood, stretch muscles, and get a better perspective. I do hometending projects in short bursts while writing; I get a happier body and a cleaner house, at the same time!
- Go into training. Getting up and moving helps, but we need more intensive exercise, too. I’m making room for these in my life – working out or swimming, fitness classes, dancing, jumping rope, going for a walk or a bike ride – what appeals to you? Let’s do it together!
- Sleep matters. Learning what we need to do to get enough good sleep can do wonders for our writing – and our attitude!
Give Me Shelter:
One of my goals this year is to make my writing spaces inspiring and functional, with elements that stimulate imagination and promote a calming flow. Small changes can make a big difference -let’s take a look!
- Repurpose items to suit new needs. Sometimes, just looking at things we have in a new way helps. My desk was once my Grandma’s hoosier cabinet, where she baked and made ‘jells’. Writing there connects me to my own past.
- Treating ourselves does wonders for creativity. When some small item makes me smile or feels just right for my space, I feel more creative. That’s why my stapler is turquoise!
- Engage your senses. Colors, scents, textures, and sounds all add magic to my writing nest. Candles, fabrics, music, bits of nature – these give our senses more room to explore!
- Use symbols. Let’s make space for the personal touches – items that remind us of loved ones, capture a treasured moment, or simply inspire us.
When our thoughts are scattered and disorganized, things we want to learn, explore, or play with can get lost…
- Taking stock. When thoughts and projects are tangled up, reassess. Bringing even a little order to things gives us something to build on.
- Make lists; set goals. There’s lots of ways to do this – like ROW80! I have a WIP bulletin board, and my laptop’s calendar feature gives me a visual idea of what I want to accomplish, and when.
- Make a plan. Knowing the what, when, why, where, and how of our projects keeps momentum moving forward.
- Learn something new. Like bodies, our minds stay sharper if they get lots of exercise, exploration, and play!
Writing is best when it comes from our deep, powerful places. Who and what feeds our souls, and helps us tap into our deeps?
- Are we connected? Getting enough time with loved ones and friends? Scheduling a visit, even if it’s just coffee or a quick chat, can do wonders!
- A change of scenery. Creativity soars in places that inspire – even if it’s just the backyard!
- Let’s indulge ourselves! Yup. Spending time with favorite books, foods, shows, activities – whatever gives us that ahhhhh! Feeling.
- Breathe. Seriously. Let’s inhale and exhale with intention. Air is life!
- Smile, laugh, and hug. Need I say more? =)
When what we share reflects who we are, we connect with the wider world, and touch others with our words.
- Sprucing up our blogs or websites. For me, late fall and winter are perfect times to freshen things up byplaying with new layouts, designs, and sidebar items.
- Oversharing? We can get overwhelmed by all the social media in our lives. Evaluating what suits usnow, and stepping back from what’s less suited, can help.
- Undersharing? Writers can also feel disconnected, or bored, or like we’re talking to the void – that’s a good time to branch out and try something new. Joining a challenge or group, or even wandering around online to see what’s out there, can inspire connection and ideas.
With a little time, attention, and affection, our writing nests can be strong, beautiful, and inspirational!