Happy Blogiversary to Me

It’s time to stop and celebrate nine years of blogging, 640 posts, (that’s a little over 70 per year), countless thousands of comments, and I have no idea how many hundreds of thousands of viewers from all over the world. But what are statistics among friends?

I will point out one small thing derived from those stats: writing steadily, even a relatively small amount (word count average for posts is close t0 700), six times a month will add up to a pile of 650 stories over nine years. Even one story a month will add up to 108 stories in nine years. You can do the math. On the other hand, waiting until the right moment to start can add up to … an empty book.

How persistent are you?

Don’t think these posts have been a completely steady flow. In the beginning I wrote three times a week, sometimes more. Never on a schedule, but reliably often. Later, they slowed to twice a week. The last few months of last year they were more like twice a month, with even longer intervals at times. On several occasions I was tied up with travel or other obligations that left large gaps. Life happens, and that’s okay.

At the beginning of this year I decided nine years was enough. I sat down to write a post saying “It’s been nice, but I’ve said it all, several different ways. Please continue to use and enjoy the archives and similar sites. I’m moving on to other projects now.”

As my fingers fumbled for those words that flow easily in retrospect, I couldn’t do it. I kept thinking of things I have not said yet, or new ways of saying old things. I realized afresh that

• I love sharing new thoughts and discoveries
• View stats show that despite relatively low comment rates (something Janet Givens blogged about recently), viewer count has actually climbed.
• Although blogging gurus insist successful blogs must post on a rigid once-a-week at the same time every time, my results suggest that’s not entirely true. Despite my irregular, sometimes infrequent posting schedule, viewer count has climbed.

So I wrote 2015 Writing Resolutions instead. I will not be bound by Expert Advice to post compulsively at 5 a.m. every (Tuesday) morning, come  hell or high water. I’ll continue to follow my sense of what works for me – and apparently also for readers – and post when I have something to say.

That is my gift to you: no posts written to a deadline. If I ever post more than once a week, you’ll know it’s important!

So there you have it. The Heart and Craft of Lifewriting will continue for the foreseeable future.

Write now: consider a long-term project – writing or something else – that you are feeling burned out on. Write a story about dropping it. Write about what you’ve learned. the rewards (tangible or otherwise) you’ve received, and why it’s time to stop. Is the last part hard to write? If it is, you’ll know it’s not time to stop.

Writers Recycle

Writers are recyclers par excellence. Especially for memoir and lifestory writers, the substance of words pouring  onto the page consists of recycled memories, insights and understanding.

Many of us also recycle various materials. When I’m floundering with a concept, I raid my paper recycling pile for an oversized envelope. Something about writing on garbage frees me to write garbage, and my mental clog usually flushes right through. I keep a pile of discarded documents near the printer and print drafts on the backs. I recycle or refill empty toner and ink cartridges.

Recycling is The Right Thing to Do. It’s ecologically correct. But I learned to recycle decades before anyone heard of overpopulation, landfill crises, or global warming. My parents grew up during the Great Depression, and money was scarce for the first many years of my life as my father finished his education on the G.I. Bill and began his career.

Both my parents were amazingly resourceful and could find new uses for nearly anything. Mother was a master of what I’ve come to call Garbage Art. She could make it look so good you never realized it was garbage. She squirreled away scraps of this and that, “because I’ll need them to make something someday.” She usually did, at that.

I inherited that tendency to scan trash for transformation potential. Practice pays off. When I unpacked a computer part shipped from NewEgg last year, several yards of soft brown packing paper caught my eye. It had a soft, supple velvety feel. The natural color and texture looked warmly earthy. When I noticed it was perforated like paper towels. a light went on. Reaching for a ruler, my hunch was confirmed. Each panel was 15”by 8.5”—perfect for journal pages when folded in half.

I felt a compulsion to carefully separate the sheets. They’d become creased when wadded as packing. I ironed out the creases, leaving a worn, leathery texture. Folding them all in half was tedious, but listening to a downloaded NAMW roundtable session made the time pass quickly. I was preparing to write in two different modes: I was improving skills and clarifying concepts while preparing materials.

The next part was messy. I clamped the stack of folded sheets and coated the folds with three liberal coats of white glue. Attaching a wide strip of gauze used to mount the pages in the cover requires focus. Scrounging in the cardboard recycling pile in the garage, I found a corrugated pizza box with enough clean areas to cut cover panels 5/8” higher and equal in width to my sheets. 

The embroidery training I received quite literally at my mother’s knee (I was only 3 or 4) came into play as I unraveled some jute twine and wove a few strands into the coarse, unbleached muslin I chose for the cover. When that was finished, I carefully positioned the cover pieces on the fabric and glued them on. I leave a “gutter
5/16” plus the cardboard thickness between the spine piece and inside edge of the cover panels. Finally, I trimmed the fabric edges and glued them to the inside.

The rest was relatively simple, though it did require careful placement as I glued the “wings” of gauze to the cover, then glued folded endsheets in place inside each cover. In this case I glued a an attached bookmark made of piece of jute fiber with a tiny antique key at the end into the spine.

Making your own journal by hand is extreme, and few will ever try. Some may find it intimidating to write in a handmade book. I find it energizing. I’ve made several others from folded legal size sheets. Using journals I’ve crafted myself adds dignity and honor to my thoughts and words. Besides, I prefer unlined paper and all the coolest commercial journals have lines.

Now, if I could only figure out how to turn the huge wild turkey feather I found in the yard into a reliable pen …

Write now: consider ways you recycle and your thoughts about it. Write about this in an essay or story. 

You’re Never Too Old for Stars

Sometimes I’m as surprised as anyone when I hear the words that come out of my mouth. That was the case recently when I suggested to 85-year-old Jack that I was going to make  him a star chart to reward him for sticking to his determination to write at least fifteen minutes each day on his memoir project.

“A star chart? What on earth is a star chart? I’m not into astrology!” he quickly informed me.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that. It’s a tool that parents and teachers use with kids to get them to do things like making their beds or turning their homework in on time. It’s a kind of game. You’ll get a star each day you write. You already have five. I’m going to send you your stars as soon as we hang up.”

He was a little dubious, but he liked getting the email with the stars. I send him a new one every week or so with an update. He hasn’t missed a day of writing in 47 days now. Some days he writes for the minimum fifteen minutes, other days he might write for as long as two hours. Usually it’s closer to half an hour.

“I’ve got to tell you, I was skeptical when you told me about that star chart thing, but I’m surprised how much I like getting those stars. It’s kind of like having perfect attendance at Rotary for the last fifty-two years. When I start something like that, I don’t give up easily!” he told me a few weeks later, grinning like a little kid.

Especially considering that he had started working on this project half a dozen abortive times over several years before we met, this is phenomenal progress, and he’s eager for the world to know how powerful star charts are.

Jack’s progress got me excited. I’m going to make one for writing blog posts – an undertaking that has become too easy to put off in the crush of other activities.

I like to make them in Word, starting with a basic table like the one you see above. You can use the Draw toolbar to make a basic star shape, then copy and paste that into a cell each time you earn a star. You can award stars for completing tasks on specific days, or you can accrue them for results apart from time. For example, Jack gets them for any amount of writing, but there has to be at least fifteen minutes each day. He only gets one star whether he writes for fifteen minutes or two hours, and he gets no star if he doesn’t write.

Another way to do it would be one star for each fifteen minutes or one star for each page, or … you get the idea.

Jack proved that you are never too old to benefit from a star chart. How about you? You are the star of your story. Would a star chart help you get it written?

Write now: think of a writing project – or something else if you prefer – that might move along more smoothly if you had a place to give yourself stars for your efforts. Make a chart, on the computer or a plain sheet of paper. If it’s real paper, you can glue on old-fashioned stars, or draw them with a marker. Decide on the conditions for awarding your stars, then, however you do it, give a try.