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!

Why I Didn't Write

The ants overtaking the kitchen pantry and waging ant wars inside the dishwasher...

The new routine on the road between schools...

CWC newsletter deadline looming...

Parenting article deadline come and gone...but I made it

The new Wii headache, that is to say, my sorry search for a Wii Fit for my sister's birthday. This game is proving more difficult to find than the Wii game console was last year at Christmas, but this, my friends, is material for another post.

Picking up books to read rather than working on my own (currently on my nightstand: The Historian and The Poet's Companion--both I highly recommend)

Fear of failure, more rejection...general creative doubt.

And remains of Shane's double ear infection that makes him sense the moment I sit at my computer to write and start shrieking for Mama cuddles.

So these are my excuses. I spent more time writing my excuses here than any creative writing time all week. This is troubling.

When Wishing Backfires

I've been on a whirlwind reading frenzy the last few weeks. Just take a peak at my iReads icon on my facebook page. I'm juggling way to many books at one, then picking up new ones before I have a chance to finish the ones I'm halfway through.

On Monday, I blogged about Noelle Oxenhandler's new memoir "A Wishing Year" here (just scroll down to my post called Musing in the Valley Vineyards: On Wishing and Writing--not tech savvy enough yet to post the exact url!). The book jolted me back to that land of dreaming big. Oxenhandler had the courage to do it, so dammit, so can I!

A few nights after finishing her book, I spent a few minutes really articulating a few wishes. No, I'm not going to list them all here for the blogosphere to read. Somehow, they feel private. But it's no joke that I write and that I want to publish a book; that my manuscript is in a couple busy agents' hands and that I'm now plowing through a new historical-crossover-YA book using the Book In A Month workbook as a guide. Obviously one of my wishes is to get published, so I wrote it down in a specific way, as well as wishing for focus in my writing practice.

I don't know what it was, but I really have been focused. The last two mornings, I've packed up my laptop,i-pod and notes after dropping the boys off at preschool and have written twenty pages in two days. This is not normal for me. Most days I can squeeze out four, maybe five pages if the creative gods shine on my overcrowded head.

Last night I was feeling pretty sassy for my ten page writing streak that morning. With Robbie away playing hockey and the boys exhausted from swim lessons and nodding off at dinnertime, I rushed to clean up dinner and chill some beers in the freezer to lounge while watching the So You Think You Can Dance finale. (I know, my taste in television can be questionable but hey, it's summer programming!) Shane passed out at 7pm and Bobby was close behind him. As I finished my chores and opened a beer, what should happens.

POWER OUTAGE!!!!

I was calm and cool. I had 45 minutes til showtime and even if I didn't get the power back right away, the show lasts two hours so I was guarenteed to get my fill of dancing drama. I put the boys to sleep and read as the light faded outside, peeked out the window to make sure my house wasn't the only house on the street without lights shining through cracked blinds. It wasn't.

Night fell. Another half hour, then another. I lit candles and pulled out my laptop, with a near dead battery, by the way, and began the slow-going process of charting my scenes so far to check for the 'domino effect', assuring there are no holes or unnecessary scenes. Another half hour goes by. Now I'm starting to get pissed. This was supposed to be my night to lounge with my smut tv, without my husband home to glower that the A's game wasn't on instead, with the boys not wired from unspent energy.

I worked over an hour on my scene tracking just as the laptop faded to black. Just as I pulled out a notebook to scribble about the irony of the universe forcing me to work on my book instead of watch a tv show I've been looking forward to since, well since it was on last Thursday, the lights blinked back on. At 9:55 pm. By the time my satellite signal found my television, the show was summarizing the four dancers and their various routines. I missed every single dance routine.

But I got what I wished for. I found the holes in my novel and did this tedious task last night, rather than this morning where I instead started fresh on more new pages of the book. Wishes are strange beings.

Cross-Bloggination

Why not?

What better excuse not to work on the new manuscript but to journal online?

I am now among the many fabulous artists that contribute to Eric Maisel's Creativity Central blogs. Although I only committed to posting on alternating weeks, I plan to post more often. Which means I will also have to post more here to keep it fair. My brand for the Maisel blog is Musings Among Valley Vineyards, and will mainly have posts about the creative process, writing life, blocks and tiny victories. The Pollard boys will steal the show on this blog, so come by both blogs often and tell me what you think!

Look for my new series of posts later this week about my adventures with recipes on the back of the Bisquik box.

And no, I'm really not joking about that....

On the job dangers

Sometimes it is just plain dangerous to be a writer. My Friday deadline has me immersed in the world of direct sales and home parties as a way to make a second or part-time income. For the last few hours, I have swam in web-copy about the potential earnings of consultants for Avon, Pampered Chef, Discovery Toys and PartyLite candles. I've researched the Direct Sellers Association and learned how to choose a company that will guide you to marketing success. I've learned about how to host a Passion Party and teach my friends and neighbors how to enhance their sexual enjoyment.

And Lord help me, it almost looks tempting. Wouldn't say I'm exactly cut out for the sex party hostessing, but the educational toys? Perhaps...

A New Earth...for Kelly

I must have struggled with Eckhart Tolle's book the most I have ever struggled through reading a piece. Usually, if it is that hard, I just close the book and pass it on to someone I think will appreciate it more. But all the hype about "A New Earth" kept dragging me back. FINALLY I finished the spiritual-new agey thing last night and here's my take:


1. I can see why Oprah loves this, why she's taken it on as her latest mission in spreading world peace, better for humanity kind of thing. Kind of like what she did with The Secret.


2. I don't think your average reader will be able to get through this on his own. The reading is very dense, very out there, yet also, very repetitive. Hence the reason it took me so long.


3. That said, I totally believe in the message Mr. Tolle is trying to spread. Using texts from Christianity (a lot of Jesus quotes), Buddhism, Taoism, Judaism, he basically says all world religions really carry the same underlying message: if you are totally present and conscious during the moment, the transformation within will be spectacular. If you transform, you in turn, will transform the world.


4. So I loved the last 40 or so pages where he really gets to the meat of what he's saying. We must be present, live only for the moment--not the future, definitely not for the past. How do we do this? By our attitude toward the present moment. If it is a difficult moment, we feel acceptance. Because each moment is fleeting. If the moment is mundane (i.e., folding six loads of laundry while your sons' try doing body slams into the mountains of clean clothes with their greasy bodies), you 'enjoy' the moment. Because this moment is beautiful and fleeting--soon they will be too old, they will be out of the house, you won't even be doing the laundry anymore... Then Tolle zones in on the highest level of presence: enthusiasm:

"Enthusiasm means there is deep enjoyment in what you do plus the added element of a goal or a vision that you work toward."



Then he goes on (and on and on, man this guy can ramble and repeat sometimes) that although you are working toward something, it's so important to remain in the present moment, not looking forward to something in the far off future.



Of course this makes sense to me as a writer/aspiring novelist. The goal and vision is there: to see my name on the spine of an awesome book. The road toward that goal is perpetually endless. (How many agents have I submitted to already?) But if I take Mr. Tolle's advice, I wouldn't focus on the future, but on the actual moment when I am writing or editing or submitting or waiting ENDLESSLY for a response from another so-called dream agent. If I am present in the moment of all this, my energy will be enthusiastic and positive which will shine in that finished product.



Ah, easier said than done.



So that's just my take on the Tolle book. Now I shall head over to the Oprah website to see what the girl has to say about it...

Beauty of Change

Changes have been fast and furious in this chaotic Pollard household. How do I count thy ways?

1. The Contra Costa Times stopped publishing the sections I wrote for the past year, leaving me scrambling to find new markets to at least support that hefty preschool bill for the two boys.

2. Tee-ball! Bobby joined the Livermore Diamondbacks, the very youngest t-baller on the team and so adorable to boot. If only he could figure out that you are supposed to run to first base (not third!) when he makes those power hits.

3. Kindergarten registration! Yes, Bobby will be charging into a new school this fall. I'm excited and anxious and trying to control myself from joining the PTA...like I have the time for that...

4. Squaw Valley Writers: I've made the decision to apply for this week-long, highly regarded (and waaay out of my budget, though I have the most supportive husband a girl could wish for) writer's conference. They only accept 96 fiction writers based solely on the 20-odd pages of unpublished writing you submit. If accepted, I get to spend a week in Tahoe mingling with some of my writing idols (hello Anne Lamott and Amy Tan!) while sharpening my writing skill and hopefully finishing my second book. Which means...I need to dive into the new book. The first young adult novel is sitting in nice stacks in my office as I await feedback from a couple friends before I do final revisions and really, truly start submitting to agents again.

5. Shane. Okay, I feel guilty because I really have nothing to report that's majorly changed in his world. He still drives his trucks and tractors in the dirt...therefore loves the teeball fields. He's hit the Terrible Tantrum-Infused Threes full force and is lucky he is so darn adorable.

I'll try to keep you all updated on the fun and fabulous adventures of the Pollard family.