Bringing Playfulness Back to my Writing

Taking a cue from my boys, who literally played with homemade play dough all day yesterday while being shut in from the stormy weather, I decided my latest writing slump needed some attention. I've been way too serious lately with my writing. A string of freelance editing gigs on other people's projects filled my inbox. Endless revisions on my first YA manuscript (submitting to agents again, wish me luck!) started to feel mechanical as I continually scraped through pages for misplaced punctuation or too much wordiness. My confidence lurched then plunged after nearly hooking an agent with my book. The prospect of revising my second YA manuscript which is in the very messy first draft stage felt overwhelming. Then there were magazine deadlines approaching and all I wanted to do was hide under the covers.

Yet watching Bobby and Shane construct elaborate monster truck jumps out of a huge glob of play dough triggered something in my head. Play dough is fun, but it's also educational for young children. Where was my fun? Creativity is supposed to be playful and freeing, yet why was I leaning more toward the tortured artist role than playful child? Sure, all the left brain editing is important for churning out some polished prose or bringing in some extra income and each rejection (supposedly) brings a writer closer to finding a home for her baby, but why was it all becoming such a downer? Well duh, nobody likes to be rejected. And it's tough editing other people's work when you are itching to start your own, or in my case, when you'd rather curl up with a juicy (and perfectly edited) novel by someone else.

So this morning, seated at the kitchen table still littered with tiny green fragments of clay, I whipped out my notebook to face my latest project...an essay for my Suburban Queen column. Instead of the usual free writing I do to spark ideas, I revisited an old technique I used in my school days: clustering.

Come on, we've all done this as students. Take your main idea (mine was t-ball season), write it in the center of the page and circle it. Then free associate ideas into a network of bubbles surrounding the main idea. In the space of about ten minutes, I filled my page with tons of ideas. I remembered the chaos of lost baseball socks right before a game, snack duty for the team, the chill of early Saturday mornings on the bleachers as my baby raced around the bases. The first draft came naturally then and I know it'll only grow as it sits in the back of my mind before I shift back to that trusty left side of my brain for rewrites. You'll see the finished product in the April/May issue of Bay Area Kids Magazine, be sure and check it out!