Ugly As All Get Out & Writing Fail

So last night I made some broccoli cheese soup that was a serious fail in the appearance sense of the word “edible.” We’re talking ugly as all get out. When my husband was being all lovely, polite, and upbeat and optimistic about it and taking his first bites he said, “Mmm. Did you make this with hate?” I just about fell off my chair laughing. Even though apparently he said, “Did you make this with potatoes?” Making it with hate is much more amusing, don’t you think?

Ugly doll. Don’t you love it?

Also last night I discovered that there is quite the crafting community on Twitter. I even joined my first Twitter ‘party.’ Not sure what made it ‘party.’ Maybe it was the prizes? Anyway, it was a ton of fun–oh, that probably made it a party! And I discovered that like other ‘fails’ on Twitter, there is a ‘craft fail.’ (I wonder if there is a ‘food fail?’ Probably! Just add soup.)

So I decided we need a writing fail. For those times when writing turns ugly. (Then after believing I was incredibly brilliant for thinking of this, I looked on Twitter and discovered there is in fact #writingfail. Of course.)

But what truly constitutes a ‘writing fail?’ Those times when you mean to sit down and write and social media sort of takes over the morning? (Darn! That video on Canada’s Hide and Seek Olympic Demonstration team was unreal. Those pictures my brother uploaded to SugarSync from Christmas were great. Oh… and did you hear about baby monkey riding on a pig?)

Where was I?

Oh, yes. Writing fail. How about those times when you sit down to write and you spill your tea and spend the next 15 minutes tackling the mess and then the baby wakes up and you are off on a new adventure? And then there is writing itself. Naming all your characters names that are almost the same and even you can’t tell them apart? Realizing that nurses don’t leave medications lying around willy nilly while dispensing them and a whole scene, chapter, and section of your story needs to be rewritten? Yeah, that says writing fail all over it.

How about you? Any writing fails? (It can be anything!)

Why Writers Can’t Let Go

According to WIRED, the magazine of intelligent geeks and nerds, it’s the IKEA Effect.

Okay, let me back up a bit.

If you are a writer or know a writer, you may have noticed that they have a heck of a time letting go of old stories. Particularly their first story. They work on it and work on it and work on it and can’t figure out why the heck the world doesn’t find this lovely story of daring and darlings as wonderful as they do. So… what’s up with that?

Well, according to Dan Ariely in July’s WIRED magazine, he says this is due to the IKEA Effect. The IKEA Effect is the idea that something becomes incredibly more valuable to us if we’ve spent a lot of time creating something. (IKEA because we think that our simple shelf is da bomb after we’ve gone through hair loss and divorce tying to put the damn thing together straight and strong. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise–that shelf is fab, darling. <smile and nod, smile and nod>)

Back to writing. The poor, struggling writer has learned so much while writing The 15 Date Rule, er, um, I mean their story. They have spent years… er, lots and lots of time writing, tweaking, rearranging, and editing this fine feast for the mind. Naturally, they are now quite heavily invested in this creation. It’s difficult, if not near impossible, to let go of something that has been given so much time out of one’s life. The effort put into this project is huge making it very hard to say, “Okay. This is as far as this one can go. I can’t do anymore. It will never quite get ‘there’ and thus, it must go in this musty old bottom drawer and stay there forever more.”

Now… if it is someone else’s story… that’s different. We aren’t nearly as invested are we?

And I guess this is why if you’ve ever watched Dragon’s Den (Shark Tank is the US equivalent), this is why you’ve seen some inventors/entrepreneurs who have spent more than the GNP of a small country on an invention that will never fly. It’s because they are suffering from the IKEA Effect and don’t even know it.

So, if you have a story that has popped in mind while reading this, and feel you might be suffering from the IKEA Effect… let go. Start something new. Or, go build a shelf.

When Novels Cough, Sputter and Die

I started Life of Pi by Yann Martel last night and was struck by something in the author’s note (which is truly the narrator’s note). The narrator (a writer) said the novel he attempted before this story (Life of Pi) had fine writing. The sentences, themes, dialogue, and plot were all good. The characters practically needed birth certificates they were so real. “Really, your story can only be great. But it all adds up to nothing.” As Martel said, an element was missing. The story was emotionally dead.

Reading this, I felt an echo in my heart. His words struck stone. But instead of it being “soul-destroying” it was surprisingly liberating.

Let me backtrack a bit. A few months ago I was debating what writing project I should tinker with over the next few months. Ideally, I should take something that is close to polished, polish it, and try to sell it. Right? Well, looking over my work I debated working on a scrap heap of a story that has done amazing over on WEbook. Literary professionals were giving the first few pages 5/5. It has even gone so far as to hit the final round and is now spending its time lounging in the literary showcase. (I should mention that people have only read the first 50 pages in that contest so they are unaware that while this story takes off like a great shot and has witty, funny, poignant moments, an element is missing and somewhere along the line, as Martel puts it, it has coughed, sputtered, and died.)

In many ways, this story has the trappings of a winner. So, find where it is oozing its vital fluids and stitch it up, right? And that is why, I decided, with some great cheers and bolstering from my wonderful cheerleading writing friends, to attempt CPR. And several transplant surgeries.

However, as it stands, the story’s organs are strewn about in Scrivener. It continues to ooze and flop about like a fish in its final throes of death. I continue to scratch my head. And the story flatlines. I feel the answer will come to me… eventually… but reading the opening of Life of Pi it gave me the much needed permission to release the story so it can peacefully go into the light. Let it have a glorious life, short-lived. (At least for now.) It will not no longer spend its lingering days suffering through needless, unsuccessful surgeries.

Let it sputter and die.

Me, I need to move on.

And I know exactly who the next patient will be and what it needs to be revived so it can enjoy a full and entertaining life.

Question: What do you do when your stories cough, sputter, and die? Do you mail them off to a fake address in Siberia with a non-existent return address like Martel’s narrator claims to have done? Do you operate on it until its organs are mush? Or do you move on? How do you know when its time?

(Oh, so many questions!!)

Writing is Like Running

As I attempt to build myself up to running 5K for the September Gorilla Run (this being the gal who had notes excusing her from ANY and ALL running in phys ed in school), I’ve noticed that, in a lot of ways, running is similar to writing.

Like running, when you write, you can always use a few tools. However, you don’t have to get the super duper outfit to make you a Writer or a Runner. (Yep, I’m talking posers, here.) The writer who talks about writing, has memberships to all sorts of organizations related to writing, has all the writing books, writing software and more, but rarely spends time putting words to page (because it’s hard work and not as much fun as showing the world that you are a writer) may not necessarily be a ‘real’ writer. In the running world there are the same folks. (That would those folks with the fancy running gear, gps, playlist, t-shirts, talky-talky the talk, but yet, those running shoes are lucky if they make it around the block once every two weeks.)

As with writing, you can start running without knowing what you’re doing. You just slam one foot in front of the other until you begin to figure it out. Of course, it is always nice to know a little bit about what you’re attempting to help you achieve your goals. To grab an example from running, if you pop off the couch one day and try to run 5 km, the chances are you aren’t going to reach your goal. Or, if you do, you are likely to find yourself in a great deal of pain and unable to make that same attempt any time soon. You could also hurt yourself. Wah! In writing, if you plop in front of your computer or notepad and slam word after word down on the page without a clue, chances are you are going to be in for a world of hurt when you go back to edit that puppy into a story that actually works. If you have a training plan/picked up a few tips and skills, it helps no matter if we are talking writing or running. It pays to get a little bit of knowledge under your belt when you are starting out. I’m not saying deluge yourself in it–that can have the opposite effect as helpful–just find a few things to help you improve at the level you are currently hovering at.

When writing, if you slam down word after word with no clue, your story can easily end up in the woods. (Or recycle bin.) When writing, if you slam down foot after foot with no clue, you can easily end up in the woods eighty miles from home. (Or hospital.) In both worlds, there is something to be said for a little bit of planning.

Like running, there is a high. That wonderful feeling you get when you’re in the zone and the sentences flow like fresh honey out of the extractor and the word count blows your mind and you can’t help but smile and think how you could do this forever.

Like running, there are days when everything hurts. Every word comes at a cost and all you want to do is stop, stop, stop. Every word feels wrong. You wonder why the hell you even bother. You suck. This sucks. Why did you bother getting out of bed? Isn’t this supposed to be fun or something?

So, why do we run? And why do we write? It’s for those days. Those days golden days. Those days when you feel like you have accomplished something you can be proud of. Those days when everything flows and the whole universe feels like it is in line with you and all you have to do is aim straight ahead and let yourself soar, empowered. Everything is smooth and beautiful. Everything is groovy. You feel more alive and real than ever and everything is simply wonderful.

That is why.

That is why I write. And one day, that will be why I run. (…but not quite yet.)

Shut UP!

That’s right, I said, “Shut UP!” Yes, I know, I may have damaged some holding-on-by-a-hair-self-esteems out there by saying that. But sometimes it needs to be said.

Specifically, it needs to be said to that nasty little gremlin that sits on your shoulder telling you that you can’t do it. That little guy who wheezes in your ear, sharing not-so-sweet nothings like, “That’s an adverb, followed by too many adjectives, you twobit writer.” and “That makes no sense. Do you even know who this character is? You must SHOW their motivation.” and “That paragraph is too long.” and “A comma doesn’t go there.” and “Spelled that wrong.” and “Get a thesaurus, you’ve used that word three time. Who do you think you are. Trying to write? Ha! Ha! You don’t even have a good, polysyllabic vocabulary. Any ESL person could walk off the street with a better story and better writing. Just give up already, you are wasting your time.”

Whew! That’s some nasty stuff.

So, what do you do? What can you do? And you have to do something because that nasty little gremlin will smother your muse in vile tar in five seconds flat, leaving you sobbing on your keyboard.

First, you have to write. You have to show that gremlin who’s boss–and that would be you, the writer.

Second, if it is a long list of ‘rules’ you need to remember in order to be a ‘good’ writer that is getting you down, then the solution is easy. Write. Write, write, write, until it all becomes second nature. (Maybe focus on one thing at a time though–we don’t want any heads to explode as brains are very hard to clean off the upholstery.)

Third, write. Yeah, I’m kind of serious about this one. Don’t let the bastards get you down. Even if you have to type ‘This sucks. I know it sucks, but I’m going to keep writing until something good comes up. I’m going to sit here and keep typing even if my internal editor won’t SHUT UP! I won’t let anything distract me. I won’t get up until I have ten pages down. Even if they suck and it is the same sentence repeated 243 times. All I know is that there is this girl who has a problem with the Elm tree in her front yard and she ends up falling in love with the man across the street while trying to deal with the Elm.’ And just keep going until something happens. It will. Your brain will get tired, your gremlin will get lulled to sleep and things will take a turn and begin to happen. Be aware that it might not happen on day one or page one. Know and be okay with the fact that some of it is going to be garbage, but if you keep writing eventually you will run out of garbage. Sometimes it is by paragraph 3, sometimes it is page 56. Just write it down. You can always edit it later, recycling items, landfilling others, polishing hidden gems, etc, but if you don’t have it down… what have you got?

“It says here, “Calvin and Hobbes shows bad influences to little ones. No one can be that bad.”

Fourth, if your gremlin doesn’t have a day job, is a bit of an insomniac, and is always on snoopervision no matter what you do, distract him. Turn on music–new stuff might keep him busy. Talk radio so he isn’t lonely. Or the TV so he picks up useful tidbits he can feed to your subconscious to be placed here and there in your story.

Fifth, if your gremlin is really harping on one thing, let him out on someone else’s work. Now, be careful! You don’t want to rip someone else apart and leave them crying on their keyboard. Be kind! But if you are working on sensory details and your internal editor/gremlin is going nutso on you, read someone else’s work and make notes. What works? What doesn’t? How can you use what works in your own writing? Give yourself a challenge and ONLY focus on improving that one thing.

Sixth, don’t be afraid to play. Really. And let your Gremlin play, too. He’s bored. He’s there, use him. Turn him into your internal drive to always improve. But remember, when he gets to be too much, tell him to, “Shut UP!” And be firm. Spank him if necessary. (I won’t call social services, I promise.)

Seventh, if ALL else fails, get him a little bit tipsy–unless he’s a nasty drunk, in which case, bribe him with chocolate, ice cream, coffee, or whatever floats his sensory boat.

There will always be something to learn or work on when it comes to writing, that’s what’s so amazing about it. Go forth and play and don’t forget those two golden words: SHUT UP!

Good luck young grasshoppers. And whatever you do, keep your gremlin dry.

P.S. If you have handy gremlin elimination tips, feel free to share them in the comments section.

Writing That’s Loveable, Yet Flawed

Flaws. A story can have major flaws and still make the best seller list. A story can have stylistic or technical writing elements that bother the reader, yet if the storytelling and world building is amazing, readers will still love the book.

On the other side of the coin…

Flaws can kill your story. The wrong word, the wrong character reaction to an event, unbelievable conflict, too many adverbs, too much telling; the list is long. The readers can end up hating a decent book.

The other night, our book club was discussing Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. The varied group  enjoyed the story and went as far as to seek out See’s other books. (We don’t always do that.) Yet, there were parts of this story’s structure and style that bothered us as readers. So why did we enjoy it so much? How did it become a best seller?

A little background about the story: The story is set in rural China in the 1800s when foot binding was still performed. The story is relayed to the reader through the now aged main character (Lily) as she looks back over her years.

In the first few chapters, there are quite a few ‘authorial intrusions’ where the writer reminds us that Lily is the one telling us the story by adding sentences similar to this: But the worst was yet to come. Or: This wouldn’t be my only mistake. As we get deeper into the story, the reminders are fewer, but they still exist. In the beginning, it worked as it let us know what type of story we were going to read as well as forewarn us about conflicts to come. Yet, after the first few chapters, I found that these reminders brought me out of the story and in some cases, ruined what could have been a big reveal within the story. By chapter two, I knew how the two friends would break up–the main story question already answered for me.

So, what kept me intrigued? What kept me flipping those pages? The world and culture building was simply amazing. As a reader, I learned a lot about China and Chinese culture from a woman’s perspective. It was incredible to learn that much in such an enjoyable way and the flaws melted away. Just like that.

For aspiring writers, something minute as overdone foreshadowing in an authorial intrusion sort of way could be fatal. It could get that story rejected. But in this best seller, because the world building was so strong, it could be overlooked and forgiven. Even the fact that the major conflict ended up being a slight misunderstanding that could have been resolved with a short conversation–something of which us aspiring writers (romance in particular) have been told to never do, became forgivable.

As a writer, this book intrigued me. I strive so very hard to make my stories as perfect as I can and to see a story with flaws do so well inspired me. Strengths in one area may be able to pull you through your weaker areas. How cool is that?

So now, I have to figure out what my big strength is and what my big weakness is and how can I use my big strength to lessen the impact of my big weakness. Whew!

How about you? Do you know what yours are?

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Plateau

I’ve got it!

I’ve plateaued! Sort of.

After writing the last blog entry and replying to a comment another writer made on a post on AgentConnect.com, I came to the realization that I am comfortably sitting on a writing plateau.

Different from writer’s block and actually a good place to be. Why? Because it means that I have been learning, growing and developing! Yes!

I was wondering why this week I can’t seem to spell or write a coherent sentence. Now I’ve got it!

It was like back in my days of teaching skiing. You grow, grow, grow, learn, learn, learn and then poof. For a bit, you can’t seem to move past where you are in your skills. It’s a plateau. You need time to let all your new skills settle and gel before you can move up some more on your skill level.

So, with that in mind…I am not writing anything new other than blogs at the moment. Instead, I am working on my writing muscle by trying out my new skills on an old manuscript and taking a slight breather. I’m not going too far though, I don’t want this plateau to develop into a block or an excuse to not keep developing.

So, there we have it. My week in a nutshell.

P.S. Gee whiz. It’s only 10 A.M. and I have three blog entries for today already. Maybe I should go do something else….