The Value of Rethinking

Last week I learned the value of suspending judgment and listening with an open heart. “Hey,” you say. “You are within a few million breaths of completing seven decades of a passingly happy and successful life and you just figured this out?”

To that I can only say, “Yes and no.” Of course I’ve known this most of those nearly seventy years. But a few days ago my eight-year-old granddaughter inadvertently put new spin on the concept.

Let me back up. Compare this picture featured in a blog post on September 1, 2009

with this picture from last week.

Both pictures feature clothespin dolls. I made the dolls in the top picture four years ago for my daughter’s girls. Sarah, the oldest, was four at the time. When they came for a visit last week, Sarah, who is now eight, wanted to make clothespin dolls. My mind whirled at the thought of teaching her to sew the tiny seams along the sides of the dresses, but Sarah immediately took charge of the situation.

She selected a rust-colored pipe cleaner from a pile on my desk. “What can I cut this with?” “Why do you need to cut it?” “To make hair!” Huh, what? Hair made from pipe cleaner? Why not? I pulled out my stash of craft pliers, and Sarah snipped a couple of pieces and twisted them into hair that I hot-glued on. To my surprise, it looked great.

With barely a pause, she chose fabric for the dress, and before I realized what she was doing, she had snipped a ragged rectangle from one corner, wrapped it around the doll and taped it shut. “I want to use this ribbon for a belt.”

Heckuva deal, I thought. So much for me teaching Sarah how to make these things. “Do you want to learn to sew dresses like the ones I made?” I asked. “No! I know how to sew, but that’s not what I want them to look like.” Oh! KAY! New page, new doll story.

Sarah eagerly accepted a sparkly silver hair suggestion for her next doll (third from the left). A taped scrap of “silky” black lining fabric formed the perfect dress, adorned by a snip of lacy fabric and slinky silver spandex cape.

I quickly realized that my job was to provide resources and explain the advantages of hot (faster than white) glue instead of tape (doesn’t stick well to fabric). Based on her whims, I found strands of yarn for hair, and Sarah did the rest, cranking out dolls at warp speed, intuitively mixing snips of this with scraps of that. She never paused to cogitate, and in an hour or two she had exhausted my clothespin supply .

I admit I was stunned at the results. Her dolls have panache! They sizzle with character. When I made the initial batch, I was thinking inside the nostalgia box, making dolls recalled from the past. Dolls that look like real people. With no limiting beliefs, Sarah was drawing on unbridled imagination and fairy tales. My dolls are dressed to milk cows and bake gingerbread. Her dolls cast spells and eat poison apples. My dolls are for playing house. Hers are for populating fantasy worlds.

My post four years ago was titled “Memories I Wish I’d Had.” If you read that post closely, you’ll notice that the memories I longed for would have been about making things, making dolls for playing house with classic roles. I wanted to capture the past.

Sarah took a version of this concept to a new level. Her focus was on making things, but she was future oriented. She wanted dolls, but not for playing house. Sarah was creating adventure stories. She selected, snipped and wrapped her emerging characters, creating her story bit by bit.

Did I remember to tell her these awesome glam scraps are left over from her great-grandmother’s doll-making days? Maybe not. But Sarah’s dolls capture the spirit of stuffed fairy and mermaid art dolls Mother made near the end of her life. Did Mother imagine stories as she stitched her dolls? I bet she did. Mother and I both made traditional dolls for playthings early in life. Mother got wild and crazy much later. She rethought what dolls were about.

Sarah is skipping the traditional phase. By suspending judgment and giving her free reign to follow her muse, I gave her space to follow her dreams, and in doing so, she unwittingly cracked open a limiting shell around my creativity that I had not realized was there. That drawer of glimmer and glam has been patiently waiting in my physical work room for nearly twenty years. Sarah began pulling it into her stories. Now it’s time for me to follow her lead into that larger space, making new use of old materials, both manifest and remembered.

Write now: recall a time if you can when you showed someone how to do something (formally or otherwise) and learned something yourself in the process. If you can’t remember such a time, teach someone something soon and write about it. That something may be as simple as using a new seasoning in a favorite recipe or as complex as designing a web page. Teach, then write, including an account of how your thinking changed in the process.

Mr. Muse Cranks Up Creative Juices

I met Herchel Newman, aka Herm, about a dozen years ago in the original Lifestory Group on Yahoo when we were both new to the genre. I’m always blown away by his richly authentic stories. Whatever the topic, gentle humor or compelling drama, I’m mesmerized from the first word. We’ve stayed in touch after that YahooGroup went poof, meeting in person one time, and we’ve both continued to write.

Not long ago he emailed me some thoughts about his muse, the source of inspiration for his writing, both memoir and make-believe. He  graciously agreed to share those thoughts here on this blog. Hopefully Mr. Muse will guide you to tap more deeply into your creative forces.

There’s a guy who lives inside my head. I call him Mr. Muse. Besides God and myself, I’m pretty sure he knows me better than anyone else. He is the contemplative as well as the whimsical part of me. He comes and goes as he pleases. It doesn’t matter if I’m asleep or awake. Sometimes he gives me rhyme and reason for things I’m having a hard time understanding. Other times he’ll show me something that makes me laugh out loud. That causes my wife to wonder about me sometimes. I admit to being quite fond of him even though at times he’ll begin a story or piece of poetry and decide to take a nap before he gets to the end. And sometimes–like now–I call for him and he’s no where to be found.

Mr. Muse, for the most part, is a class act. For instance, recently he showed up while I was doing some free writing–you know, just to see some words going on my computer screen. He started telling a story, I would say from the inside out. Kind of like starting a novel in Chapter 4. Here’s the kicker. He was talking–get this–in character just as if he was Bogart.

Listen to Humphrey Bogart’s voice: “She took a table caddy-corner to the left and front of mine. Her red dress fit as well as the name Coke-A-Cola on a tall bottle. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just there wasn’t anything else that could compete for my attention. She crossed her legs at the ankles like it was a romantic dance move. I never understood how shoes could be considered sexy until I noticed hers at the end of those cinnamon brown legs. Her brown hair cascaded just past her shoulders with silken waves the Mississip would envy. Her perfume invaded my space and deliberately sat like an invited guest. My wedding band began to vibrate like it was my cell phone. (Of course Bogart never had one) I joked to myself, ‘She needs to be ugly or I need another table.’

“She turned her head to the side, granting me a profile view. No, she wasn’t ugly. A diamond held a ruby dangling from the lobe of her ear. The corner of her mouth and that of her eye were gracefully lined to perfection. I’d no sooner formulated the questions in my mind: Who is this lovely lady and why is she dining alone on a Friday in a place like this? when I noticed a tear forming at the corner of her eye. Perhaps my answers were in that salty drop. She moved as if she might look my way. I turned my attention to the window view.”

I don’t know who or what Muse is to you, but here’s one other thing I’ll share with you about my Mr. Muse. He is a companion of my conscience. If I attempt to turn away from my conscience, he’s resourceful enough to get my attention.

Excuse me. Here he comes now.

Notice how Herm’s muse is fickle. What he didn’t mention here, but I know he knows, just as I know it with my muse Sarabelle, is that when a muse speaks, you’d better not only listen but write down what you hear! You probably won’t get a second chance. Notice also how Mr. Muse guided him to magnificent description details and the “voice” of Bogart. That’s hard to do when writing “cold.”  Mr. Muse puts Herm in a state of flow.

Write now: Try some free writing, as Herm did. That’s the best way to get in touch with your muse, however you may define this source of inspiration. See where s/he leads you. And don’t forget to write down any ideas your muse whispers in your ear at odd times and places.

Herchel Newman A.K.A. Herm, has been a seasoned storyteller all his adult life. He added photography to his skill and operated a successful wedding photography business for many years. He has stories published in three titles of Chicken Soup for the Soul – one a cover highlight. He loves family and romancing Sweet Lonnie, his wife of forty-four years. Also a motorcycle enthusiast, he says every day has an adventure to write about. Click here to read his spellbinding story, Escape from Hell, excerpted from Chicken Soup for the Soul: 101 Miracles. He is a valued member of the Life Writers Forum.

Interview with Sue Mitchell, “The Memoir Muse”

Today I am pleased to host an interview with creativity coach Sue Mitchell, “The Memoir Muse,” about the challenges new lifestory and memoir writers face and some tips on avoiding them.

SL: You explain on your website that your passion is to help people overcome obstacles and reluctance to begin or continue writing their memoirs or life stories. What are the most common obstacles people bring to you?

SM: Most clients come needing some form of outside approval. They want to know if their writing is any good. They wonder if they’re going about this in the “right” way. They worry about offending others by sharing their view of what happened. I help them understand the messy nature of the writing process, teach them to set their own criteria for success, and help them give themselves permission to tell their stories.

It’s also typical for beginning memoir writers to find that writing a memoir competes with other priorities in their lives, time slips away, and they don’t get to their writing as often as they’d like. Using the Japanese principle of kaizen, we establish routines and build momentum so they can make more consistent progress on their memoir project.

SL: Do you draw a distinction between the process of writing and the product? How does this influence the way you work with clients?

SM: When a writer focuses on their process, they are noticing what they’re doing and how they’re doing it. They are experimenting and learning from their trial and error. They’re observing the satisfaction of creating a well-turned phrase and the emotional release of self-expression. They assess their level of motivation to work on their project and seek inspiration. They’re driven by curiosity and enjoyment.

When writers focus on their product, they’re considering the quality of the work. They’re putting themselves in others’ shoes and wondering, “What will they think?” They’re driven by a desire to meet a certain standard.

If you want others to benefit from what you’ve written, there is definitely a time to place your attention on the product, but it’s dangerous for a writer to worry about that too early. Focusing on the product too soon can inhibit creativity and feel discouraging to the writer.

SL: I’ve been noticing a trend over the past few years in the memoir community to focus increasingly on publication rather than the process of writing. How do you see this affecting writers, especially beginners?

SM: I’ve noticed the same trend. Now that self-publishing has become so much easier, it seems like everyone wants to do it. The idea of having a published book is very appealing. But again, thinking about how your work will be received by others too early in the process can lead to creative blocks and even quitting.

It can also be overwhelming for someone just getting started to mingle with other memoir writers and hear them talk about building a platform, ISBNs, query letters and such at a time when the novice just needs to know what to do first! It’s important that writers find a community of writers who aren’t too far ahead of where they are.

Unfortunately, many writers come to internet forums as a way to build their author platform, so I think those who are nearing publication far outnumber the beginners in those communities. That can make it seem, in online circles, like publication and platform-building should be everyone’s main focus. Not true.

Besides, there are so many personal benefits to writing a memoir even if you never publish it, and I worry that many writers don’t benefit from telling their stories because they think no one will want to read it. Seeing publication as the only worthy goal means that people are missing out on the benefits of simply doing the writing.

I started my business, An Untold Story, to create an internet community focused on the creative process as it pertains to memoir writing because I noticed there wasn’t much conversation about that happening online. That’s why I was so excited to discover your work, Sharon. I love the way you focus on enjoying the process and doing the actual writing.

SL: What is the most important piece of advice you can offer new life writers?

SM: It may sound crazy, but my best advice is to lower your expectations of yourself and your writing. Set yourself up for success, not disappointment.

When you’re establishing your writing practice, start small. You’d be amazed at how much you can accomplish in 10 minutes a day if you stick with it for a few weeks. Let your writing be awful in the beginning. Give yourself permission to write a bunch of disjointed pieces and practice feeling comfortable with not knowing how it will all fit together in the end.

Lower the pressure on yourself to be a great writer or to complete a certain amount of writing within a specific timeframe. Take small steps, experiment, learn and enjoy the process!

SL: Thank you Sue for sharing these insights and tips!

Sue Mitchell Bio:

As “The Memoir Muse,” Sue Mitchell will inspire you to finally write your memoir by giving you the tools, support and confidence you need to succeed. She is a lifewriter, teacher and certified Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach. Sue lives with her husband and son in the high desert of Colorado, where she enjoys hiking, river trips and painting. Request her free Memoir Starter Kit at www.AnUntoldStory.com.

Don’t Worry, Just Write It!

NAMW founder Linda Joy Myers has been busy posting about the memoir alternative for NaNoWriMo. In her most recent Memories & Memoirs blog post, she points out that this is National Life Writing Month. She posts four tips for writing a 50,000 word memoir draft this months in lieu of a 50,000 word novel.

Linda Joy has been extra busy. She also wrote a guest post for Nina Amir’s Write Nonfiction in November blog giving another eight tips to help you dig deeper as you write.

I suspect many writers are like me. It sounds fantastic to write an entire novel, memoir, or other nonfiction book in a single month – one of the busiest months of the year as it includes the Thanksgiving holiday and the onset of the December holiday madness. BUT … I already have three books underway, maybe four. Starting a new one seems counter-productive. So what can I do? Besides, the first week of the months is already history.

Here’s an idea: Maybe it’s cheating and maybe it isn’t. Who but me cares?

I could take the rest of the month and FINISH the memoir I started nearly two years ago. The one that’s been languishing, morphing in my mind. The one I think I know how to handle now, “when I have time to work on it again.”

Who am I fooling? When do I think I will I have time to work on it? I work on things when I decide to. When the muse whacks me hard enough to get my attention. I’m a big girl. I can make decisions. I already have about 18,000 words. That’s over 1/3. I should certainly be able to finish a draft in the remainder of the month.

I invite you to join me:

JUST WRITE!

Don’t worry about word count or ethics. Don’t worry about punctuation, grammar or even structure. Don’t worry about what your clothes or hair or make-up. Just write! By hand or computer. The idea is to complete a manuscript, from beginning to end. What better way to honor the intent than to finish a work in progress?

If your enthusiasm or motivation begins to wane, think of all the writers around the country – indeed the world! – who are feeling the same challenges, and get those fingers moving again. And sign up for the FREE NAMW roundtable discussion this Thursday, November 10, with Nina Amir and Denis LeDoux to hear more tips about writing a memoir.

Write now: think about your works in progress. Do you have a book-length one you’ve been meaning to get back to? Open that file and take a look. If you have at least 12,000 words there, you can easily finish in the allotted time. I invite you to take a deep breath, spend two hours a day, and blast through to the end.

Photo credit: Julie Jordan Scott

Paper versus Pixels: the Debate Goes On

In January I participated in an experiment to explore the relative merits of journaling on paper versus keyboard. The research project was spearheaded by Amber Starfire, owner of Writing Through Life, a blog and ezine devoted to the fine art of journaling. For one week we wrote by hand. The second week we used the computer, and the third week we mixed the two. 

Official results have not been released, but I was a little surprised by my personal findings. From the time I received a Hermes Baby typewriter in preparation for going to college, I used a keyboard for just about everything but taking notes and signing checks. For over a dozen years I kept sporadic journal entries in ongoing documents, adding to them through the space of a year. 

Three years ago I began journaling on a regular basis, loosely following the Morning Pages model. After spending two or three weeks reconditioning my writing muscles, I fell in love with hand writing, finding deep pleasure in watching words pour from my hand onto paper. They seem more real, more immediate, more connected in three dimensions that any pixels on a monitor ever will. Writing by hand often invokes a meditative state. While writing stories, essays, blog posts, articles, and all that other stuff is still fine on the keyboard, journaling by hand has become something of an obsession. Magic happens. I feel more creative. I don’t recall my muse  Sarabelle ever visiting while my hands were on a keyboard.

But still, I’m up for experiments and try to keep an open mind. I’m aware of the advantages of using the computer. Amber summarized them beautifully in a post about journaling software. 

My experience confirmed my preference for writing on paper, for all the reasons I already knew, but it also reactivated my appreciation of computer journaling. My journals have pale golden pages as warm as morning sunshine. After recoiling from the icy white digital page, I set the page color in Word to palest pink, adding a header of slightly darker hearts. Then I downloaded a hand printing font not too different from my own and used deep violet “ink”. This combination tricked my eye and made a world of difference. My E-journal feels less like “more work.” 

However, I did not find myself drawn into the meditative state. My thoughts remained closer to the surface. This may partly be due to the crisp percussion of hitting keys versus the smooth, analog glide of gel pen on paper. Clicking versus silence. The rhythm and flow are different. Also, the keyboard and touchpad on my laptop are wiggy (I will journal in my comfy chair, not at my desk, however I do it). The cursor jumps around now and then. To avoid chaos, I must often reposition, which breaks the flow.

Focus is a concern. When I write on paper, I’m journaling. That and nothing else. I’m aware that I could type in some of what I write, but that never happens. If I use anything, I rewrite it. When I write on the computer, some tiny portal remains active, reminding me I can easily recycle parts into a blog post, email, or whatever. That keeps one eye on the window to the world. 

For me, 95% of the value of keeping a journal lies in the writing. If my journals are lost or destroyed, so be it. I cherish this break from the keyboard and need it for personal balance. But I think I will be using the keyboard to capture more thoughts that aren’t so deeply personal. I might even invest in journal software for the purpose. 

Write now: try Amber’s experiment for yourself and draw your own conclusions. Then send me an email with the results. If you already have strong feelings about this, post a comment and share them.

Playing with the Process

Yesterday was my dad's 90th birthday. One day last week the following conversation took place between my husband and me:

“Rats! I forgot to shop for a card for my father!”

“Why don't you make him something like Gil made my mother?” Gil is a friend of my mother-in-law's who lives in her retirement community. For her recent 98th birthday, he snagged some historical highlights of her birth year from the web, added a few sappy sentiments at the end, and wowed everyone. It was sweet, but … if I were going to do something like that, it would be a bit more, well, elegant. And definitely not sappy.

“I don't want to. It would take forever. … But … let me look at Gil's thing again.” He dug it out.

Hmm, I thought. How long could it take to pull a few facts off the web. A little bit more formatting, maybe a couple of graphics. Surely I could think of a suitable conclusion.

I cranked up Google to explore 1920. Most events pertained to war, the aftermath of war, or what would later be recognized as preludes to war. But did you know that's the year it became illegal to mail babies via the USPS? Prohibition began that year – for alcohol in this country and contraceptives in France.

I started playing with layout. A little graphic maybe? Yeck! Boring hardly began to describe it.

Let me see what I can do with PowerPoint, I thought. A few slides, a few graphics. How long could that take?

I knew. I truly knew. But I realized I'd been bitten by this bug and  the only way out was through.

Let's just say I didn't sleep much that night, and most planned tasks sat undone the next day. By the middle of the day after that, I had created a PowerPoint slideshow with animated loads and transitions for text and graphics. I'd snagged audio of a 19w0 top hit parade song. The final slide was an animated version of the image you see above, accompanied by a version of  Happy Birthday, sung way better than our family could ever do. I'd converted the file to a Flash video with the free iSpring plug-in. All was done.

“Good grief, if I'd realized how much time you'd sink into this project, I never would have suggested it!”

“I knew. It's always that way. That's why I didn't want to do it, but I'm glad I did. It was fun.”

It was fun. And it's typical of most projects I do, even more intentional ones. A project may seem too big, too vast. But I've learned through time that if I just nibble on a corner, I'll find my way.

I cranked out a handout recently for the next series of my Writing for the Health of It class. I had no idea how to do it. So I began writing a few basic ideas. Those led to more. Soon I had a sense of direction. In a surprisingly short period of time, it all flowed together. A formatting tweak here, another there. Print it out for an edit.

The key is to get lost in the process. Let it lead the way. If I try to force it to go the way I want, I always get discouraged. If I let the energy of the project lead the way, the path is a lot smoother.

These are some of the principles I've always known and used on some level, as far back as high school when I worked on the props committee for drama club plays. I was delighted to find that Mark David Gerson summarizes them most eloquently on the front page of his website, starting with Rule #1:

Rule #1: There are no rules: How can there be when creativity is all about breaking new ground and breaking old rules?

Thanks Mark David. This list is wind beneath our wings and a great reason to ask Santa to put a copy of your book in our stockings — paired with a copy of mine!

Write now: think of a story you want to write and play with it. Using Mark David's list as guidance, let it tell you how it wants to be written.  

P.S. I know you'll wonder. I can't show you the finished product, because I created it for strictly personal purposes and posting it publicly would violate copyright all over the place.

Turkey Delight

TURKEY DELIGHT

Twas nearly Thanksgiving and all through the house,

not a creature was stirring 'cept maybe a mouse,

The fridge held a turkey long since safely dead,

and visions of cranberries danced in my head. 

Then I glanced out the window and what did I see?

A full-feathered turkey looking straight back at me!

The turkey was perched aloft on our car,

I suppose it had flown there from somewhere afar. 

It returned to its preening with no further thought;

And I yelled for a camera to snap a great shot.

My mate came a running with shutter all set.

He set about snapping, each shot the best yet.

The turkey's head rose and down she did squat,

A gift she then left us, and not in a pot.

Ere long her four flock mates ambled onto the scene,

And the turkey decided to return to the green.

Her huge feathered wings spread open quite wide

to assist her ungainly hop down to the side. 

Then off the flock waddled, deep into the woods

In search of delectable dinnertime goods. 

I'll never forget this most wonderous sight

of the bird on our car I call Turkey Delight.

---

When I downloaded this recent picture from my husband's camera, it cried out for a story, and that story took on a life of its own, emerging in a totally unexpected way. I just relaxed and let it have its way with me. Who knows? Maybe Sarabelle was working her magic. Sometimes it's good to cut loose and play with our stories. I've always said I was born without the poetry gene. I haven't changed that opinion, but it's fun to dabble in different writing forms now and then.

Write now: think of a fun or wondrous event and try a new way of expressing it. Poetry. Song. Crayola. Write with your non-dominant hand. Use colored markers. You may be amazed at the creativity boost you get. 

Nailing the Essence

Once, when his father was alive, Langdon had heard his mom begging his father to “stop and smell the roses.” That year, Langdon bought his father a tiny blown-glass rose for Christmas. It was the most beautiful thing Langdon had ever seen. . . the way the sun caught it, throwing a rainbow of colors on the wall. “It’s lovely,” his father had said when he opened it. “Let’s find a safe spot for it.” Then his father had carefully placed the rose on a high dusty shelf in the darkest corner of the living room. A few days later, Langdon got a stool, retrieved the rose, and took it back to the store. His father never noticed it was gone.

— from Angels and Demons, Dan Brown

Doesn’t this passage just tear at your heart? Isn’t it amazing that such a tiny detail can say so much about an entire relationship. In only 124 words and one fragile, non-fragrant glass rose, Dan Brown has captured the essence of Langdon’s father and their relationship, while also saying a lot about Langdon. Of course there’s acres of room for expansion and context, and there surely were other elements in their fictious relationship, but this dart seems precisely centered in the bullseye.

It’s worth spending some time thinking about the people in your life, looking for those telling details. You may get ideas from photo albums, meditation, or journaling. They may hit while you’re walking or folding laundry or standing under a hot shower. Who knows? Muses and creativity are whimsical and can't be turned on like a faucet.

One thing is sure: if you don’t prime your mind to be alert, you probably won’t recognize them. Ask yourself questions like

“What was Yobu’s essence?”

“What best captures Yobu?”

“What do I remember about Yobu?”

“What made Yobu Yobu?”

“What reminds me of Yobu?”

Relax and let answers come to you as they will. Keep the question in mind for a few days and jot down your thoughts. Relax and run mental videos of Yobu, muting the sound to concentrate on the pictures. Notice what Yobu did. Use Yobu as a prompt to do writing practice, maybe many sessions. Add insights from this writing to your list.

Let each item on your list play gently through your mind. At some point something will pop out at you. You’ll feel a shift of certainty, a stab of recognition. You’ll know that particular image and description nail the moment with precision.

So far I’ve spoken here as if one paragraph can summarize an entire life. Perhaps at times it can. Usually it’s enough to encapsulate the essence of a scene. Building up a collection of snapshot paragraphs will expand your reservoir of material and perhaps one item will prove to be the capstone you seek.

Write now: about a relative or friend. Capture a tiny detail that sheds laser focus on their personality.

The Power of a Question

“She hears voices.”

“He talks to himself.”

Until recent years such observations conveyed suspicion of ... insanity! Or maybe the dazzling brilliance of an eccentric genius. Few people want to be thought of as the first or qualify for the second. Could that be why so few people know about this powerful journaling technique?

Posing questions in your journal and then writing down the answers may be the single most powerful tool available for insight, healing and problem-solving. The more you use it, the stronger it grows. This technique is recommended by all leading journal experts for developing insight, solving problems, enhancing creativity and more. Let’s take a quick look at a few Power Questions and how to use them. Later posts will explore specific questions in more depth.

The first step of the simple process is to describe a troubling or puzzling situation, then follow it up with a question like one of these:

What can I learn from this?

An ideal question to pose after recording anger, hurt or fear arousing incidents and events.

Is this true?

This simple question is an offshoot of The Work of Byron Katie. Whether you are writing or obsessing, it’s a great way to break your chain of blame and negativity. It’s also a way to protect yourself from overoptimism.

What would (insert name) say about this?

Some variation of this question opens the door to understanding other points of view that may provide the key to resolving differences, or removing thorns from sticky situations.

What would I rather be doing? 

What gives me the most pleasure? 

What’s my payoff for continuing down this path?

How do I really feel about this?

The more often you pose questions to yourself, the more easily they will come to you. The second step is to start writing answers without any conscious effort to find them. Set your Inner Critic aside and just write. Let the words flow. You may be surprised at some of the answers that appear on the page. Don’t settle for the first answer that pops out of your pen. There may be many, and the most productive may lurk at the bottom of the bottle.

Where do these answers come from? Some say the creative subconscious. Others may claim they come from Spirit in whatever form you understand it. Maybe imply The Universe. Who cares? They work. Do yourself a favor and give them a try.

Write now: briefly describe a puzzling or emotionally draining situation. Begin a new paragraph with the question, “What can I learn from this?” Spend at least five minutes freewriting answers without conscious thought on your part. Read the answers and continue to drill down with more questions about juicy answers. Finish with a simple “Thank you.”

Photo: Wikimedia

Steps to Use Your Muse

 My muse, Sarabelle

Most of us have good friends. Some people have best friends. A fortunate few of us have super friends. I’m one of the fortunate ones. A couple of days ago I wrote a blog entry on A Los Alamos Girlhood about a discussion with a super friend. She has the amazing ability to pick up on things, and lay her observations on the table. She doesn’t back off either, until she’s satisfied her curiosity. Or unless I tell her I’d rather not discuss something, which has been known to happen.

In the case I wrote about, she picked up on frustration I hadn’t even realized I was feeling about my memoir. She drilled right down to the bottom with me, and I found what Karen Walker referred to as the Golden Thread of my story.

If you don’t happen to have such a super friend, or your super friend is busy when you need her, don’t lose heart. I’ll let you in on a secret that may set your story on fire: Make-believe friends are as good or better as flesh and bones ones.

I say make-believe, but I’m not convinced that’s the best word. I’m referring to your muse. I’ve had conversations with my muse Sarabelle that were equally as enlightening as the one I recount in that blog post. Here’s the way to do it:

1. Sit in a comfortable chair, with a paper and pen handy to make notes. You can pour a cup of your favorite beverage if you like. Picture your muse sitting in a chair near you.
2. Ask your muse to help you. Just start talking, like you would to any close friend. Tell her (or him — muses can be either gender or neither) what you’re thinking and what you need help with.
3. Sit and wait. Listen carefully until you hear an answer. It may come immediately, or it may take a few minutes. If two or three minutes go by, ask again. Some people need more practice than others.
4. Once an idea occurs to you, even if you don’t “hear” it in words, write it down, and keep writing until you run out of words. Ask follow-up questions, and keep writing. You’ll soon know your answer.

An alternative way to do this is to write a conversation with your muse in your journal. Simply write down your question, then begin a new line and start writing the answer. You may run into a new question. Write that. Keep going with the cycle. You may be amazed at the wisdom that flows out of your fingers. I know I often am.

Write now: think of a  story you are feeling puzzled about, or a project you’re feeling stymied on. Take your pick between a conversation with your muse or a written one in your journal. State your question and listen for the answers. Pop in with a comment and let us all know how it went.

A Los Alamos Girlhood

It’s probably time to start a new blog, specifically about the memoir I’m writing. I’ve been spending serious journal time doodling content and concept ideas, but had not found an entry point to begin writing.

Yesterday magic happened. A random sentence I heard earlier in the day took root and moved me to begin a new document beginning with that thought. Before my eyes drooped so low I had to crawl between the covers, about 2500 words had bubbled forth, and they were nothing I’d envisioned or considered writing. Yet they were good. They are keepers. Yes, I’ll do some editing, but my elusive concept is clear now. I can see how the story will flow. The shape has been revealed.

A key point that I often forget is that that although it sometimes hides behind the clouds, the story is within me. It’s there. It will reveal itself, and in my experience it will only reveal itself if I begin to write. That’s what I did last night. Begin to write.

Call it Sarabelle (the muse who until last night has mostly avoided me of late), call it the Creative Subconscious, call it whatever you like. It doesn’t matter what you call it. You have access to it, and if you aspire to write, it matters that you use it.

In my experience, Sarabelle is unpredictable. At random times, always while I’m busy with something else, she gifts me with spontaneous ideas whose value I immediately recognize. If I don’t drop what I’m doing and write enough to anchor the thought so I can recall it when I return to finish the piece, she’s sulk in hiding and avoid me for ages.

Other times she slips into my fingers after I’ve warmed them up and hijacks my word flow. This is always a good thing, though the results are often surprising, as they were last night.

As I wrote my Morning Pages today, she slung a title my way: A Los Alamos Girlhood, and she reminded me of the picture you see at the top of this post. I want to use that picture as a touchstone for the book. I’m not in this picture, but the girl on the right could be me. I had a bike like that, and I often rode it through that canyon. My hair looked like that and I had a yellow shirt.

Sarabelle also suggested that I start another blog, specifically about the process of writing this book. She told me this new blog would make me feel more accountable, and help me avoid distracting sidetracks so I'll actually finish the project. She told me it will give the book it’s own identity, separating it out from the more general content of this blog.

Yes, that does sound like a good idea. I shall do that, but not today. Watch for the announcement soon.

Write now: sit down and start writing about a story idea you haven’t been able to get your arms around. Write something, anything, and quite likely Sarabelle or one of her siblings will pay you a visit. You won’t know until you try, and it may take more than one try if you don’t already have a working relationship.

What's the Lesson Here?

 Light Chaos by Kevin Dooley

I don’t know if it’s the magnetic forces building as we slide into the core of the Milky Way, or maybe I'm wearing a sign on my virtual back that says “Trash My ’Puter” or something like that. My desktop machine (Hotshot) has lost the ability to record sound (think “Podcast Impossible”). Jack, my middle-aged ’Puter Wizard, is in the midst of finals week, and doesn’t want to hear my whining, or even take my money. He does his best to keep me self-empowered anyway. He assures me the sound card does work, so it's a Windows thing, and I “just” need to do a clean install and rebuild the system.

“NO!” I yell into the phone. “NOT THAT!” I have, oh, maybe 120 programs installed — true, half can be dumped — but it takes days to rebuild my system.

“Deal with it,” he tells me, in much kinder words.

Adding insult to injury, last night I discovered my laptop no longer recognizes our home network. The CMU wireless network I connected to Tuesday afternoon fried this function, and I can’t connect to the hard drive on Hotshot where I store all my files. This has happened before, and I’ve always relied on System Restore to make things right. System Restore has let me down. It looks as if a fresh installation of Vista is in the cards for the laptop. This system is less complicated and will only take one day. It's been acting wiggy anyway.

How’s a person supposed to find time to write?

After a quick test for compatibility and further consultation with Wizard Jack, I've resolved to replace Hotshot’s aging XP brain with Windows 7. I have to reformat and rebuild her anyway, and this should extend her life another couple of years. So add learning a new operating system to this mix I just described.

In case life weren't already exciting enough, my hubby just ordered parts for Jack to build him a new system (and I know who is going to end up holding whose hand while he installs his favorite apps), and the ophthalmologist who was scheduled to perform cataract surgery on my eyes in less than two  weeks just decided to hand me off to “someone better qualified” which will result in an additional delay of around two months. My head is spinning.

I seriously consider zipping up my down-lined red parka (red will fend off the deer hunters slipping through the woods just now) and going out to sit on a stump under our tri-centenarian oak, sucking my thumb, chanting, and rocking until I turn numb from the cold and . . . 

Wait! Sarabelle is saving me from myself. She just started a banner scrolling through my mind: What’s the message here? What are you supposed to learn? What’s the story? Ah, yes! The message. The story. Am I living my beliefs to the hilt? What sort of messages am I showering myself with? What would I like to have happen as a result of this craziness? These questions sent me scampering for my journal.

This is the true value of life writing: to write my heart out in times like this, to get these thoughts on the page where I can see them and work with them, and defuse their ability to sting and cause chaos. And in the process I’m certain to discover amazing ideas and answers.

Write now: make a list of questions you’d like to have answered about an area of chaos in your life — past, present or future. Use those questions as journaling prompts, then write a short essay about what you hope and expect to see happen.

Interview with Gina Mazza

“Inspiration happens, but it has to catch you working,” advises Gina Mazza, creative alchemist extraordinaire, as she discusses the process of writing in the audio interview posted below.

Gina is the author of Everything Matters Nothing Matters, an eloquent blend of riveting spiritual memoir with a well-defined path readers can follow as they pursue their own spiritual journeys.

Her book is one of a large number of multi-niche memoirs that appear on the shelves of the travel section, spiritual life, healing, recovery ... even the food section of bookstores and libraries. The combination of personal experience and message is powerful, giving readers deeper understanding of a process I discuss in an article, What is a Self-Help Memoir.

During our interview Gina explains how her book evolved into a published volume from a concept she blurted to an agent during a pitch for another book. In keeping with her dual-track book, she also gives listeners some general guidelines on creativity that will be useful to any writer.

The interview lasts for 15 minutes. Click the link below to listen on your computer, or right-click the link to download it to listen on another device. 



Right-click to download file
This book is just one of many facets of Gina’s work. Be sure to visit her beautiful website, http://ginamazza.com to learn more about her classes, coaching, and writing services.

Write now: following the principles that writing makes your thoughts visible and you can control and change what you see, do several minutes of free writing on your own creative process. Are you where you want to be? As you consider what you wrote, ask your Inner Writer or Muse, “How can I move along my path to becoming more creative, to becoming the writer I dream of being?” Listen quietly, and begin writing the answers. 

Happy Anniversary Dear Blog

Today marks the third anniversary of this blog, an event that calls for celebration.

I began the blog for the specific purpose of promoting The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, which was undergoing final editing and due for release six months later. I may have begun the blog anyway because my delight in teaching other people how to write lifestories developed long before I to write about writing at least as much as I like to write stories, so what is more natural than blogging about writing?

When I first began, ideas for posts gushed so fast I could barely keep up with listing them. I determined not to overwhelm readers and settled on a pace of two to three posts a week. Like any large writing project, ideas have been more abundant some times than others, and occasionally I was convinced my muse Sarabelle (who introduced herself to me and blog readers on June 19, 2006) had abandoned me forever.

The blog has evolved in several respects. The appearance has changed from the generic two-column Blogspot Dots template to a fully-customized three-column layout aligned with the theme of my main website, sharonlippincott.com. On January 1, 2009 I changed the title from The Heart and Craft of LifeSTORY Writing to a more inclusive one, The Heart and Craft of Life Writing, to reflect broadening interests that have expanded beyond simple stories.

If Blogspot offered the ability to add labels when I first started, I didn’t know about it. The first post to feature labels was on November 16, 2006. The “Write Now” writing prompt debuted on October 13, 2007. March 2, 2008 was the last time I signed off with “Write on, Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal”. (That signature line was redundant so close to the writing prompt.)

Certain themes, like Truth in writing, recur often. Others are topical and unique.

This is post #306, making an average of just over 100 posts a year, about two per week. Posts average around 600 words each, which totals over 180,000 words — enough to fill three average-size print volumes. (Just think — if you had been writing even one single-spaced page of story a week, you would have filled a finished volume of stories by now.)

This history came to mind as I sorted through posts to select the most relevant to include in Dazzling Descriptions, an eBook bonus gift for those who sign up for the NAMW Make Your Stories Sparkle teleclass I’m teaching, beginning on February 13. Creating this volume was so much fun that I plan to produce additional “Blog Digest” volumes available as eBooks, Print-on-Demand hard copy, and perhaps even Kindle format. I’ll keep you posted on this project.

I continue to write and blog because I continue to learn and grow as I do. I think of myself as an explorer, always wondering what’s around the next corner, and how else to get from here to there. I look forward to many more years of sending continual “trip” updates from the Writer’s Path, sharing new angles, insights and thoughts on writing compelling stories, learning more about ourselves and creating a written legacy of our lives in the process. I hope you will continue to walk with me on this path.

Write now: take a few minutes to review the progress of your writing projects. Do you have a plan, and end result, in mind? How are things shaping up? How has your writing changed over time? What new topics or writing skills would you like to work on over the next few weeks and months?

The Best of Intentions . . .

Before the crack of dawn this morning I woke up, glowing with excitement about a essay idea that probably came from a dream. The vision was luminous and the concept was crystal clear. I knew that the minute I sat down at the keyboard, print-ready copy would pour forth in minutes. How could I risk drifting back to sleep and forgetting? Sarabelle is a ferocious taskmaster.

I slid from between my warm covers out into the cold, dark room, reaching for robe and slippers. I came down to my computer and ... I had fifteen e-mails. And ... I answered a couple. And ... here I sit, looking at a puddle of story that melted in the heat of the thought required to respond to those e-mails. Turning my mental energies to the thought required to craft those replies was blowing a strong wind across the surface of the previously mirror-still pond reflecting my idea.

Rats! I know better! How could I let this happen when I left my cozy bed for the specific purpose of recording it before it went poof?

Well, no point in beating myself up about it. I could pull out my journal and do some freewriting to see I can recapture the thought. But it's way more tempting to slip back between those warm covers and see if Sarabelle might be compassionate enough to give me a second chance. In any event, next time I have an epiphany (in the early morning or later in the day), I will not allow e-mail or anything else to distract me from recording it! I’ll at least get enough of it onto my story idea list to make sure I can recapture the moment.

Write now: start a story idea list if you don't already have one. That might be a piece of paper that you add to and check things off of. It might be a cigar or file box for collecting random scraps of paper, or a document on your computer. However you manage it, be sure you have one!

Joy Writing

Photo by Jurvetson

You know the image of the writer as a starving, tortured soul, each agonized word blurred on the page by sweat beads dripping from his brow. He writes in longhand, on a hand-hewn log desk, by candlelight, wrapped in rags against the wintry blast, with only a crust of bread to sustain his unworthy efforts, and page after page of tormented efforts are wadded into balls and tossed into the fireplace for a bit of added warmth. He makes frequent stops to sharpen the quill with which he writes or to fill the inkwell into which he dips that plume. He may occasionally resort to chopping kindling to gather his erratic thoughts, mind churning in sync with his stomach. In the depths of his heart, he knows these efforts will pay off. His words will be pressed upon millions of pages and stir the hearts of readers with passion second only to his.

You know the image. You may even relate to that image and fear to write because of it. I say to you now, forget it! It’s only a myth. Writing doesn’t have to be this way. Listen to your muse. Loosen up. Write for the sheer fun of it.

“Fun?” Your unspoken question reverberates even unto my heart and ears. Yes! I said fun. Joy. Pick up your pencil and take a joy break.

Maybe before you take write for joy, a little physical action is in order. When was the last time you zoomed around your yard, arms dipping and rising like an airplane? I admit this is not one of my daily activities, but I did try it last summer. I swooped around, dipping and diving, making airplane sounds. I marched like a majorette with knees rising high. I whirled and twirled, stopping just short of falling in a heap on the asphalt. After six or seven minutes, I felt loose as a goose, both mentally and physically. I felt young at heart, and considerably younger in body.

You can do the same thing indoors, moving wildly to magic music, something with a strong beat and lots of energy. For now, try it alone. Or blow some bubbles if you have a bottle around. Catch a few on your hand.

Now, you are ready to write. Start a story with “Once upon a time there was a little (girl or boy, your pick). S/he lived in ...” You take it from there. Make it wild. Transcend gravity. Fly. Swim under the sea. Leap tall buildings with a single bound. Be totally outrageous. Nobody is going to read this, unless you decide to share.

How did that feel? Why don’t you write this way all the time? Because your inner critic won’t let you, that’s why. Talk back to your critic (in my case, Gretchen). Say something like, “Gretchen, I know you have my best interests at heart, but I need a break. I need some joy. Please sit back, have some milk and cookies while I write. You can check it over later.”

By the way, your words will surely flow most freely if you write by hand, on paper, but that’s only one option. Do what feels write to you. Write it your way, with joy.

Start out with easy, childlike topics, and as you grow more comfortable, you’ll find it ever easier to write joy-fully, even about dark topics, knowing that your playful spirit will find the hidden blessing within. You’ll have a fresher attitude, less stress, brighter descriptions. You’ll knock away your blocks with a writer’s rush, and generally juice up your writing. Your writer’s voice will sing. But best of all, it’s fun!

Just in case you were wondering, this child-like joy writing originates on the creative, write side of your brain, not the reasonable, rational, linear left.

Write now: with joy. Follow the directions above and write something fun, like blowing bubbles and hopping inside one to travel away to a magical place.

Writing Over Hills and Valleys

About twenty-five years ago I had the privilege of attending a two-day management training seminar conducted by Helen Reynolds, a noted author and speaker of the time who specialized in helping women develop their leadership skills. This lively grandmother refused to carry anything but a toothbrush and wallet aboard a plane, and she spent the first day clad in her elegant raincoat, asking questions and lecturing off-the-cuff while she waited for the arrival of her lost suitcase and her brain-in-a-box: a steamer trunk full of immaculately organized overhead slides. On day two, she seemingly pulled overheads forth at random as the conversation continued. Somehow this casual approach worked to inspire, instruct, and generate four-star evaluations. Aside from my astonishment at the success of her apparent lack of organization, I remember only one thing — a story she told.

“All I know about life, is that at times it is compact and tidy,” she said, holding an imaginary globe just a little bigger than a softball. “When it’s like that, everything goes according to plan, neat and tidy and right on schedule. I feel in control and on top of things, like I could do anything. When it’s like that,” she continued, “I know only one thing. Sooner or later it will go Poof!” Her hands flew apart.

“When that happens, life is big and scattered and chaotic, and I have no idea how I’ll get through the days.” She holds an imaginary beach ball as big as a small moon.

“But when life is like that, I know only one thing. Sooner or later, things will settle down, and fall back in order,” her hands slowly compress, “and before long, it will be tidy and orderly again.” Her hands have returned to softball size.

I understood the truth of those words as she spoke them. More than a quarter of a century has passed since then, and today they seem even more true than when I heard them. Yen and Yang, life cycles, hills and valleys, call it what you will. You know what I mean. But wouldn’t life be boring if the road were flat!

This principle seems to apply to all areas of life, writing no less than others. On unpredictable occasions, my writing is lucid and flowing, seeming to come from fountains of wisdom far beyond anything I could summon forth on purpose. More often it is work. I start a story or a blog post, get it half written and realize it isn’t going where I want to go. I may start half a dozen times. Then I cut and paste and snip, and only with great effort do I arrive at something that says what I intend.

Sure, I could just sit here and wait for my muse Sarabelle to come drifting by, but I’ve found that she’s more likely to visit when she knows I’m trying. The hard times are the workouts my fingers need to keep them limber for the times she does visit.

Besides, anyone who goes to the gym regularly knows that feeling of satisfaction that comes from a good workout. It isn’t easy to start, to form the habit, but once it’s formed, the work feels good, It generates a sense of satisfaction and well-being. Writing is no different.

So even if you struggle, even if it seems as if you’ll never get the words down just the way you’d like, keep on writing. If you’re stuck on one story, write another. And another. At the very least, you’ll leave behind lots of drafts, and as I’ve said so often,

Any lifestory you write
is better than writing nothing.

Write now: about times when you felt the most blocked in your writing. What did you do to free up your fingers? How do you cope during these times/ Then write about a time when you felt words flowing forth as if by magic. Or imagine such a scene and write about it. How does it feel?

Find the Story

“Find the story” or “Where’s the story?” References to finding the story have been staring me in the eye in blogs, books and articles on a regular basis for weeks. There has to be a message here, something I need to learn.

I know about story. A story narrates action and has a beginning, a middle, and an end. It has a element of suspense, and it is told from someone’s point of view. Those are the basics. That element of action is what differentiates story from mere description.

It’s simple enough to write a short piece that qualifies as a story. You can see the development of the action in a short story. You can put your finger on the drama and conflict, whether it is between people, a person against outside forces, or a person battling her own inclinations.

When you write a book-length memoir, the challenge increases exponentially. To keep readers interested, a memoir needs to have an ongoing thread of conflict and development, similar to the plot line in a novel. This story line laces the string of component stories together into an integrated whole. It is crucial in determining which experiences and elements of life to include, and how to arrange them within the memoir.

Finding that story line, especially in your own life, can be an agonizing experience. Many would-be memoirists become gridlocked in their thinking, suffering paralysis by analysis. They don’t find much help in books on writing memoir. All of the many books on my shelf are heavy on memory retrieval tips, and most discuss how to juice up your writing, but none tell you how to pull together a major project. If it’s mentioned at all, it’s with a vague “start writing and the structure will emerge” type of statement.

In The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, I do describe tools for compiling random vignettes into a finished project, but I have not provided a recipe for selecting the best tool. Even I, a nuts-and-bolts person, have to agree that “start writing and the structure will emerge” is Truth.

But that belief just softened. A few days ago I found a tool that should work for people who want to get a grip on the overall stories within their lives. Serendipity led me to a post in the Philosophy thread on the phpBB Arts and Humanities bulletin board. This post poses the question, “What’s your lifestory? Just the long and short of it?” It urges people to write something like the thirty second “Elevator Speech” that sales people contrive for networking. You may find the posted stories instructive. The longest takes fifteen seconds to read aloud.

Only a couple of the posted replies show enough thought to make an overall life theme clear, but don’t let that throw you. This is powerful. I tried it. I picked up a pencil and pulled over the scrap of paper I'd been using to jot random notes. These words poured out of the pencil with no preliminary thought on my part:

Raised as a geek. Stood outside the window looking in at life. Discovered real life is on my side.

How about that? That's free writing at its best. I do not recall ever having that thought in my life, and simplistic as it is, this sums things up rather well. I never cease to be amazed at the insights my subconscious mind, aka my Muse Sarabelle, will send my way if I simply pick up a pencil and scrap of paper and start moving my hand, ala Natalie Goldberg's advice in this terrific interview.

I could take this one more step and indulge in the Six Word Memoir rage, distilling it down to

Felt alone. Discovered love surrounds me.

Hmm. I think I’ll go post that one on the Smith Magazine Six Word Memoir site or NPR. Who knows? I might make the next NPR Six Word Memoir gallery.

Write now: the long and short of your life. Write the first thing that comes to mind, and sweep over your whole life. Keep it short. Keep it very short. Sum it up in six words, and post on Smith Magazine or NPR. Please also share the long or short version in a comment here!

Introducing Gretchen, My Inner Censor and Critic

It’s been nearly two years since my Muse, Sarabelle, introduced herself to me. Those of you who have read my occasional reports of Sarabelle’s influence know that she tends to be a bit feisty at times.

This morning as I sat musing about some seldom visited memories from long ago, Sarabelle tapped me on the shoulder and delivered some surprising news: She is only one of the entities on my Inner Writing Team. In short order she introduced me to Gretchen, my Inner Censor/Critic, and Betty, my Inner Editor. Then, as suddenly as she appeared, Sarabelle vanished, leaving me to my own devices to get acquainted with her colleagues.

With a bit of trepidation sparked by her forbidding appearance, I choose to begin with Gretchen. I’m immediately transported to the hallway of a prison, in front of iron bars across gray cells. The cells are surprisingly bright, lit by a small barred window, high on the wall. Despite the light, there is no color in this scene.

Gretchen stands before me, a study in black and white herself. Her austere black leather outfit and knee-high boots match her stick-straight, raven tresses, in sharp contrast to her pale complexion. Her eccentric outfit bares her right shoulder for ease of motion as she keeps unwanted memories and stories at bay. Measuring no more than five feet in height, and wiry in build, she’s surprisingly small for someone who appears so menacing. She stands facing me, silent and staring, with arms tightly crossed, black whip clenched in one hand, and a huge ring of keys on her other wrist. She is not the sort of person I generally care to deal with, but I must get acquainted. The significance of her sudden appearance is immediately apparent.

“Gretchen, I’m pleased that we are finally meeting. I appreciate all the fine work you’ve done over the years guarding my darker memories. Now I need your assistance in visiting them.”

“That is forbidden!” she barks in reply. “They are locked in here for good reason. They will make you unhappy and hurt you. They can hurt other people. It’s for your own good that I do this!” Her earnest fierceness is almost comical in its intensity.

“I understand. I have no intention of opening the gates and letting these monsters run amok, but I need to talk with them to gain some important insights. I’ve been getting appeal requests from several and need to evaluate their cases.”

She responds with a long string of admonitions warning me of dire consequences, questioning my motives, my judgment, even my writing skills, and generally tries to scare me off. My resolve begins to weaken, but then I recall why I’m here. Those memories are part of me, and I’m determined to know them better, liberating the ones that can be absolved. Many have served their sentences and are due for release. Others may have gotten a bum rap to begin with. I realize that reason will not work. I’ll have to pull rank to get past her.

“Thank you Gretchen. No one can fault you for lack of dedication. Here is a list of four memories I wish to visit today. Please bring them to me in my study. I’ll expect them to arrive in five minutes. That will be all.” With that, I return to my study, settling into a comfortable chair with a cup of fresh coffee and a pad of paper, ready to proceed with the interviews.

Right now I have my work cut out for me dealing with those old memories. I’ll find Betty some other time.
Write now: about your muse, Inner Censor, or Inner Editor. Do these entities have names? What do they look like? How do they act? What do they say when you talk to them? If you’ve never had a conversation with any of then, do some writing practice in dialog form and see what emerges. You are bound to be as surprised as I was at what emerges.

The Ripeness of a Peach

My heart is full of words and stories and pictures and aches to spill them forth. Yet, nothing emerges from my fingertips. The stories refuse to take form, insisting on remaining hidden for the time being, not ready to face the light of day. Here I sit, staring at the screen, realizing I can’t force these words forth before their time.

I recall a day last summer when I ate a peach, resplendent with stunning reddish gold undertones and strong red highlights. However, as picture perfect as it looked, it was not a perfect peach. The fragrance was faint, and although it was no longer hard, it didn’t feel juicy to my questioning finger. The flesh inside was pale and dull. When I bit into it, it tasted like a peach with half the flavor bleached out. The texture was mushy and slightly grainy, not dripping with juice as a perfect peach should be.

Appearances can be deceiving, I reminded myself. There is no way of knowing for sure at the grocery store just how a slightly under-ripe peach will ripen. This one had looked promising, but in the final analysis, it had been plucked from the tree too early. It hadn’t gotten the full benefit of nurturing sap and other fluids provided by the mother tree. The components that would mature into sugar hadn’t been fully formed and the cells hadn’t been fully plumped with water. Peaches can be picked a few days early, but if they come off the tree too soon, they will never ripen properly. The one I ate was of the latter sort.

Perhaps the thoughts spinning in my heart are like that peach, or like a baby, not ready to leave the womb. Neither can realize its full potential to nourish or serve others without the proper preliminary formation. If I force these thoughts into stories too soon, they will be dry and anemic, and they won’t convey the ripeness of the message they are intended to carry. Perhaps I still have a few things to learn and understand. Perhaps the juice and sweetness of love is not developed as far as these stories require to fulfill their ultimate destiny, whatever that may be, or perhaps the readers for whom they are intended aren’t ready to hear them.

I remind myself that these stories are not something I contrive. They are placed in my mind and heart by God herself. I can poke them, prod them, sense their presence and meaning, but I can’t know their final form or intent. That is the gift, not just to me, but to those for whom they are intended. Today I must be content to allow the stories to continue to grow and ripen, eager for the day when they are ready to gush freely from my fingers into the keyboard and out the printer.

This is an example of how writer’s block can turn into a story.

Write now: about your random thoughts when you are experiencing writer's block. Better yet, file this prompt away for that eventual day when you experience writer's block, because I hope that today your muse is generously blessing you with a plethora of great ideas that you are adding to your story idea list.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal