Writing & Not Writing

I've been deep into researching and writing on my WIP, Whispering Narrows  (aka Spilled Coffee), which partly accounts for my blogging silence as of late. I've also been giving a lot of thought to how I write--my process, that is. For the first time, I've done some serious outlining although I haven't completely stuck to it (I kind of knew I wouldn't, but it did provide me with the direction needed to get the story moving.)

If you'd care to read about the process I used to write Uncharted, my first ever article, Pantsing My Way to Outlining, is in my publisher's spring edition of their OPUS! magazine--it's got my timeline and everything, along with lots of other fine articles by their staff and authors.


This is also the first Wednesday of the month, which means it's time to write something for the Insecure Writer's  Support Group. For three reasons, I've decided to graciously back out of the group: 1) I post so infrequently, that my biggest insecurity has become worrying if my blog looks like it's all about being an insecure writer, which it's not. 2) I simply don't have the time to make the rounds, as much as I'd like to. 3) Besides that, I've always been better at working through my insecurities in private.

I Just Don't Feel Like It

Today is the first Wednesday of the month and I'm supposed to post something for the Insecure Writer's Support Group, but I gotta say, I got nothin'! Not that I'm not as insecure as ever--I just don't feel like expounding on it this month. Sure I could write about Is It Writer's Block Or Winter Blahs? or perhaps Will My Second Novel (Which Is Actually My First) Be A Big Disappointment? Or maybe, Why I Should Stick to Painting Instead of Writing. I could even write about Why I Can't Seem to Get into Blogging These Days, but I just don't feel like it.

Comparisons: "Get off me!"

I know this post is supposed to be on writing insecurities but this week I could just as easily write about painting insecurities—the principles are the same. These past few days, I've spent a lot of time studying the portrait of Marlena I just completed, and I really love her. I captured the innocence and beauty of her character, and so by that standard, the project was a success. I feel good about it—really good...until...I look at Pascal Gentil's painting*...now my painting lacks luster and well, I begin to realize what an amateur I am...Please don't misunderstand; I'm not slamming my own work, and I'm not begging for reassurance. I'm simply being realistic. (Yes, I promise to get that short-term Empowerment Therapy!)

...This is where the writing analogy comes in...

I feel really good about my novels, until I start comparing them. It might be my story line or characters or the actual writing—doesn't matter. As soon as I put someone else's writing beside mine, the first thing I notice are the flaws in my own work. If I can, I go back to the drawing table/keyboard and make improvements. That's fine! But more than likely, I'll only be indulging my propensity for overworking a project—it's the paper, scrubbed and so saturated with paint and water that it begins to peel. It's the never-ending edits and revisions, tweaking characters to the point that they scream, "Get off me!"

At some point I have to say, this is mine, it's complete and I own it and I love it for what it is, in spite of the flaws. This is such a basic concept—the earlier in life we learn it, the better. Comparing ourselves—our life, our work, our progress or lack of it, our dreams and expectations—to anyone else is counterproductive. It's easy to justify comparison as that which spurs us to greater achievements, and sometimes it does, but such a shaky foundation leaves us too vulnerable. We will constantly need external reassurance and will always be standing on the edge of that slippery slope of mental/emotional malaise.

Just say NO to comparisons! "Get off me!"

This post is part of the Insecure Writer's Support Group, sponsored by Alex J. Cavanaugh.


* Edited to say that I just found Pascal Gentil's Website only to discover his "painting" is in fact a digitally enhanced photograph, which takes a great deal of talent and in no way diminishes my esteem of his work. Oh my, how I'd love to paint many of his subjects! And in a way, it makes me feel all the better about my work.

Breaking Rules: The Insecure Way

One of my biggest writing insecurities is breaking rules. When I started my novels, I went at it all willy-nilly, unaware of rules aside from basic grammar. When I got more serious about the craft, one of the first rules I learned was Show, Don’t Tell. What an awesome new concept! And wow, what it did for my writing!

Eventually I learned that once I knew the rules—why they were there and how they worked—I was allowed to break the rules, with discretion. Okay, I have to admit that scared me a bit. (No need to go into a deep psychological profile here, but even though I don’t particularly like rules, I do find comfort in their safety. If I don’t break rules, bad things won’t smack me upside the head, right?) So, the question is, How do I to know when it’s okay to break a rule?

I don’t know.

But it began to occur to me that there had to be a better way to SHOW fear, or embarrassment, or lust, or anger or that whole gamut of human emotions. I mean, how many different ways can the heart beat fast and hard and the body temperature rise? Is it just a matter of seeing how many clever and convoluted ways I can show an emotion through physicality? And that doesn’t even cover all the extra verbiage needed with showing. Sometimes it’s good to slow down the narrative, but sometimes all that extra speeding pulse, slamming objects and watering eyes bogs down the pace and makes even my eyes roll.

Recently, I came across a new term: Interiority. I don’t know who came up with it, but it's in the dictionary (of or pertaining to that which is within) and I found it on kidlit.com and it gave me a whole new slant on the Show vs Tell rule. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but the concept makes good sense to me. I’m feeling a little less insecure.


This post is part of the Insecure Writer's Group, sponsored by Alex J. Cavanaugh.

Persistence

So, you’ve heard about writers sending out queries to dozens of agents and receiving dozens of rejections. Rejection is part of the getting published gig. And not just dozens of rejections—I don’t even want to say how many I received over the course of nearly four years. I sent my first STORY FOR A SHIPWRIGHT query in December of ’08 and received my last rejection in August this year. I won’t say how many—lets just round down to 200. And it wasn’t that my query wasn’t strong (okay, probably my first 25-50 were terrible!) or the story was awful. I received an encouraging amount of requests for partials and my full manuscript with a lot of very positive feedback—just no takers. The problem? The market; that and my story didn’t fall into a tidy genre. I was told “this kind of well-made novel is almost impossible to sell in this horrible market”...“especially in these recessionary times.  It's that old thing about deserving to be published, but not yet being published.”

Yeah, it’s been really discouraging. I can’t say that it didn’t undermine my feelings about my novel and my writing abilities—I wondered if all the disappointment and battered self-esteem was worth it. Yet, it seemed that with all the time I had invested, I should follow through on my plan—if I’ve lacked in skill and knowledge of how the industry works and what genres are ‘salable’, I do make up for it in persistence. A large part of me feels the need to follow through once I’ve made a commitment. I’ve always maintained that I will publish one way or the other, and I’ll be proud of that. If nothing else, I know that we writers are a rare breed that combines imagination with commitment and courage. That’s a pretty cool distinction!

My motto has become: Just keep moving forward—and whatever you do, don’t look down!

This post is part of the Insecure Writer's Group, sponsored by Alex J. Cavanaugh.

Confidence and Crit Partners

One of my insecurities about writing (I have many) is that people know I’m insecure about my writing! There is a fine line between modesty—knowing your work has shortcomings—and wimpy lack of confidence. I have vacillated between the two, which is likely apparent to those who have read my blog for a while or read my comments on others' blogs.

Here’s the problem it presents: Since the blog-o-sphere has proved to be my pool of potential beta-readers and critique partners who likely sense my insecurity, I tend to wonder if they sugar-coat their responses to my writing. Intellectually, I know I have chosen them because they have integrity and will be honest—and when they offer suggestions on how to improve, I absolutely believe them. But when they say something nice, I always wonder if it’s just to make the criticism more palatable. Which is stupid, because I know some of my writing is pretty good and commendation is often an effective way to motivate further improvement. Even worse, if most of what they say is positive, I wonder if they think I can't handle the truth, and so hold back on pointing out the negative! (For the record: Yes, I can handle the truth!)

Fortunately, I have found a remedy to this! Time! It takes time to build up a trusting relationship with a crit partner or beta reader. True confidence in someone can only come through experience. It’s very difficult starting out with little or no writerly support—especially if you live somewhere remote and don’t have access to a live writing group (even then, it takes time to build trust). I feel very fortunate after several years of this blogging/writing gig, to have found some real gems! It has bolstered my confidence exponentially! You know who you are..THANKS!

This post is part of a series The Insecure Writers Support Group—yes, a blogfest—sponsored by Alex J. Cavanaugh, to lend support to fellow insecure writers (and that's most of us!).  A list of fellow Supporters can be found at the above link--go visit their blogs for more encouragement...