Encouraging Yourself — Finding the Thing That Keeps You Going

Last night I went to the bookstore with my mother. While we browsed some books, mostly we poked around the selection of beautiful trinkets my local bookstore carries. After we'd selected our treasures, I said, "I have to go to the children's section."

Not looking for anything in particular, I headed over, happy to be surrounded by the books I love; the land I live in. My mother stayed behind look at other things while I made my way around the books, sometimes reaching out to pull one of the shelf, sometimes just to touch the spine. It's a quiet thing I do, being with the books even if I have no intention of buying one or evening reading the jacket copy.

Because here's the thing: sometimes I just need to be with the books. When writing feels tiresome and I'd rather be doing something else; when I fall behind on my schedule and I'm not sure I can make up the time; when I'm tired; when I doubt myself; when I become strapped with the worry that this book might not go anywhere and the question of am I just wasting my time; when I wish I had something more to show for all my hours and efforts; when I need inspiration; or when I really need to somehow, someway feel closer to my dream — these are the times I need encouragement most. These are the times when I need to go do something that perhaps no one else can do for me. I need to find that thing that will keep me going. That thing that touches my heart strings. The thing that encourages and inspires me. The thing that is most meaningful to me.

So here's way I do:

I just stand there. In the bookstore, in the children's section, I find my area of books: intermediate fiction. Then, I stand in front of the books and I admire the spines. My eye jumps from color to color, from title to title, taking in the physical books in front of me.

I think about the covers. The authors. The hard work that went into this seemingly effortless and beautiful story that is just patiently waiting to be picked up by the right hands — to touch just right heart. I move slowly from shelf to shelf, my gazing settling on the names of various authors, sometimes purposefully, sometimes at random. And then, after I've taken in the books and moved quietly amongst the shelves, I think to myself, "That could be me. This could be my book." And then sometimes I feel a bit tearful as I know that day will eventually come — that someday, I will see my book on the shelf. Someday, this dream will come true.

And then I am ready to work again.

You see, I usually don't tell people this. It's kind of vulnerable, admitting how deep this personal hope of mine really is, even if most people know it about me. And I know to some, this practice of imaging my book on a shelf might seem silly, but it's what keeps me going. In a way that nothing else does. Sure, I am hugely dependent on the support of my loved ones, the encouraging words, the excitement of new story ideas, and my honest love of writing itself. But seeing these books on a shelf, it just gets me differently. It makes me feel hopeful in a way that's hard to explain.

So whether you're a new writer or a veteran; an artist or a singer, I would encourage you to find a way to encourage yourself. Find your thing that gets you through — the one that inspires you in that unique, personalized way. Because it helps. It really does. And it bring you that extra boost of energy you need — an energy to keep working hard and to an energy to see the joy that sometimes gets hidden in the pursuit of your goal.

This Is the Stuff Books Are Made Of

Call me sentimental because it's graduation weekend, and mother's day (hi, Mom!), but the only thing I could think to blog about this week is this — life is full of good things that need to be appreciated, even amidst all the struggles.

That's quite a topic, you're thinking. And yes, it is! But the end of things often bring a time of reflection,  and often a little bit of nostalgia and sadness. Yet endings also let you realize just how great things have been; and how great they are.

This week, I have just been so overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, encouragement, and celebration I've received. But as I thought about it, that support is not limited to this week. It is not limited to graduation celebrations or words of congratulations. In fact, I've received support throughout my two years in grad school, and in many other times in my life (but for the sake of this post I'm going to focus on grad school). A multitude of people have helped me get through grad school, and though they may not realize it, their contributions were essential, however small they might seem to them. An email, a word of encouragement, a cheer when another assignment was completed, a "you can do it" when I felt like a I couldn't anymore — they were all important, and they were all greatly appreciated.

This week is an easy week to be appreciative. Times of celebration can make everything look good. But really, sometimes the truth is I simply do not stop to appreciate the network of encouragers I do have. In the busyness of life, I forgot that this shouldn't be taken for granted. I miss the love that's happening all around me because I'm too focused on getting myself to the goal.

But with school now over, as I bask in the tremendous amount of support I've recently received, I realize that this is the stuff I need to be cherishing. I need to soak it in. We all do. We need to relish the friendships and the laughter, this time in our lives that will never come again, and the people who are there with us as well as the people who helped get us to where we are.

All this might sound sappy, and I'm not going to lie. I can be a pretty sappy person. But for writers, this goes way beyond sentimentality. Beause this is the stuff that life is made of. And, therefore, this is the stuff that books are made of. Real relationships. Real feelings, good and bad. Complicated, co-existing emotions. Struggles. Wants. Hard work. Tears. Moments of joy followed by feelings of 'now what?' Celebrations. Encouragements. Long days. Life questions. Chasing dreams and holding loved one close. Telling people 'thank you'. Letting yourself cry in front of someone else. Trying your best when you might feel you have no idea what you're doing. And rejoicing in the love that exists all around you.

See, I may be writing this as a currently deeply grateful and hapy graduate, but I am also trying to keep my eyes wide open — to see this moment and chisel it into my mind; to lock this unique moment away in my mind to use for later. Writers not only need to observe, but writers need to live. We need to live in our moments and learn from our experience and hone all of our feelings and observations and truths and questions into our craft so that our characters are alive and our emotions are tangible.

So whoever, and wherever you are, look around. Take inventory of your life. Feel this moment. And then use it. Writing is important, but life should come first. For without it, there's really nothing to write about anyway.

Themes — What Are They and Why They Matter

A couple weeks ago, my mentor asked me to consider what themes I wanted to come across in my book. After my second batch of pages, she said now was about the time when they should start to emerge. Reading her comments, I nodded my head before realizing that I wasn't quite sure exactly what she meant by 'theme' or how exactly I should be working it into my pages. I mean, I don't want my book coming across as some kind of didactic 'message book' that tells the reader exactly what I want them to think and feel about a certain topic. So during our next conversation, I asked her directly (despite feeling a little dumb), and said, "What exactly do you mean by themes? And how should I bring them out more?"

I don't know if you're like me, but I know that we all understand what a theme is. We've all been through middle school and standardized testing where someone asks us to identify the theme of a passage. But still, when it came to trying to make one in my own writing, or more so, trying to make one stand out within the pages, I felt a little unsure. So this is what my mentor said: A theme is a message I want my reader to take away from my book. Not a didactic lesson, or a judgement on how to live, but more of a human connection created between my characters and my reader. Thinking about it this way, I nodded my head for real. A theme is the connected, shared emotion I want to offer my reader. Yes, it is in some ways a message, but it should be based around emotion and struggle and the truth that sometimes living is hard.

Doing a writing exercise to brainstorm just what I thought my themes could be, I came up with three take-aways for my novel. Sharing them with my mentor, she thought they all fit well within the context of the story, and were good messages for readers to connect with. But while this helped me come to a greater understanding of just what my themes should be, and how a theme or themes fit into my book at all, it left me with the question of how exactly to get these themes across.

I think the answer can be different for each and every theme, and each and every book. For some, it is continually pointing out a significant struggle or lesson your character is dealing with without stating it directly, while for others, a theme might have to be explicitly stated by one of your characters in the book. Regardless, writing with the intention and knowledge of your themes is an essential aspect of getting them across. For example, one of my themes for my current novel is tradition — both the break of, and the discomfort and sometimes negative consequences of doing so, as well as the creation of new traditions that come from following your heart. Although I am not inserting the word tradition in every other sentence, or having the adult characters always talk about it or my protagonist agonize over it either, tradition has become a large part of my plot, and thus affects the action of the story tremendously. So while some might not identify tradition as a theme within my text, because it is intertwined with the plot so heavily, it is something a reader isn't like to miss — whether they can articulate its importance or not.

But regardless of how exactly you work theme into your narratives, I've come to realize that theme — the moment of emotional connectedness that will stay with the reader after the book has come to a close — is an important part of both the writing and reading experience. The trick is to find a theme that seamlessly fits into your novel and is true to the heart of the story you are writing.

Themes need to have an authentic connection to the story itself. Trying to throw in a message that has nothing to do with your actual storyline isn't going to help you at all. If anything, it will stand out as misplaced and perhaps even come across as didactic. So taking some time to stop and think about the messages your story is sending you is a good place to start. After all, while you are the writer, you are also a novel's first and truest reader. So make sure it resonates with you first and is something you care deeply about, for how else with your future readers care and connect with this theme.

Perhaps theme comes across a bit more overtly in texts for children or is even more significant, but it is undoubtedly present within adult novels as well. Theme, as defined by this emotional connection, is what will elevate your story from a good narrative to one that resonates with your reader. It will sharpen your novel and make your story memorable rather than a text defined for only a good plot or characterization. Theme gets at the heart of the story you are telling. And ultimately, it's the hearts of the reader we are targeting, not just their brain. So spend some time thinking about the heart behind your story, and just what you want to convey. It will make your story better, and perhaps connect you even more closely to your characters than before.

Keeping Your Character's Secrets —What to Say, and What Not to Say

Just like real, everyday people, each and every character has an internal world and an external world. One of the great qualities of the novel is that the wall between the internal and external can be broken down, and we, the readers, get to peek inside the internal world of a character in the way that we can never do in real life: we actually get to see inside their heads. We feel like we are getting to know all their thoughts, but really, we are only seeing all the thoughts that the author allows us to see.

This is where my blog post picks up this week: thinking about the question what thoughts of my protagonist should I allow the reader to have access to, and what thoughts should be kept secret? The weight of this question is also augmented by the fact that at the start of my novel, my protagonist is also keeping a secret from those around him. And not only is he keeping a secret, but he is also trying to resist the truth himself.

As I've continued my revision this week, I've run into many sections within the manuscript where I've thought, "He doesn't need to say this," and deleted a sentence or two. Mostly because these thoughts have been 1) obvious and something the reader can glean from the exposition and/or his actions, or 2) too mature/analytical for the narrative moment that he finds himself in. I think I should pause for a moment here and say that my story is also being told in the first person voice. This POV greatly informs my questions of what to reveal and what to keep secret because it is ultimately my character who is talking about himself. There is no omniscient or close third narrator who has some level of detachment or even investment in getting or protecting the whole truth of the story. This is Carter's story, being told by Carter. And much like you and I are very selective in the truths we tell, or perhaps more accurately, how we frame those truths, it becomes a significant concern for me as the author to achieve an authenticity in the voice and revelations of my character.

It's not so much that he wouldn't or doesn't think a specific thought, but it becomes a question of what should be said and when a thought should be said. A thought he might reveal at the end of my book, when he is more self-aware and coming to accept more of his limitations might feel very out of place at the beginning of the novel. Similarly, while he reveals his feelings to one of his friends, I need to make sure that the spoken words are an appropriate reflection of a thirteen-to-fourteen year old boy's emotional depth, instead of perhaps something deeply profound that I would love to have my character say.

Finding the appropriate balance between expressed and unstated thoughts begins with an awareness of just who your character is, and also, how your character's secrets affect the overall arch of the story. I know that my novel would be vastly different if Carter were willing to proclaim his secret to the world on page one. Secrets are often very important to the plot and the motivations of your character, and they can be a great way to keep your reader turning the page. But in keeping secrets from your reader, however big or small, you want to make sure to give them enough of an emotional connection with your character so that they care about him, and want him to achieve whatever he is after.

When working around secrets and your character's hidden thoughts, you also want to make sure to keep your character believable. So while you must always remember that your characters have secrets and needs and fears and desires, you always want to remind yourself that they're not always going to be talking about them. Walking the line between providing some sense of that protective self-awareness as well as a willingness to be open thus becomes even more important, particularly when working with a first person narration.

We all have certain things that we want to hide, or a desire to say other things that might not reflect the whole, complete truth. This is an important aspect of developing compelling characters. But as the author, it is your job to figure out exactly what needs to be said and what should be kept behind the curtain. And like most other things in the revision process, there is no formula for exactly how to do this. But one good tip to remember: just like the rest of us real-life characters, your characters aren't as self-aware as you'd like them to be.

Keeping It Real — The Importance of Authenticity

This past week, much of my writing time has been devoted to research — researching soccer positions, defensive and offensive formations, drills, terms, and the important skill sets for each position. I've taken notes and watched youtube videos. I've made lists and diagrams of a soccer field. I've even asked a few soccer players I know for advice. It's been interesting, but doesn't fully fit into my typical idea of writing productivity. If the page numbers aren't increasing, it just doesn't feel as fruitful, right? But knowing your subject goes well beyond the importance of page numbers. It creates a sense of authenticity that ultimately affects both the voice of the novel and the reading experience of your future reader.

Going into my novel, I didn't anticipate that the game of soccer would be such a big part of my plot. I'd done plenty of research for other important topics in my novel, but didn't realize just how heavily soccer would play into the life of my character. Thus, I needed to understand it better — to really delve into the subject matter in order to write (or seem to write) with authority.

Providing an authenticity to whatever topic you are exploring is like creating a backbone to your work. It is something to lean on. Something that makes your work seem to stand a little straighter, and will make your work stronger. Authenticity is one of those tricky things that takes a whole lot of effort but doesn't always get a whole lot of recognition. Often, when you, the writer, seem to know what your talking about, then readers will simply accept your presentation and move forward, never questioning or really admiring your knowledge, unless it's something really rare. But, even if no one knows just how hard you worked or how many hours of research you had to put in, they will definitely know if you didn't put enough time into given subject matter.

Authenticity is literary quality that often doesn't get highlighted, but is always noticed when it isn't there. Whether it's details about a specific geographic region, the intricacies of a hobby like fishing, the rules for baking a delicacy, or a sport such as soccer, the reader needs to feel convinced that you know what your talking about. You never know when that fishing expert is going to pick up your book and read about a process they know by heart. You don't want to alienate them by getting it wrong. And similarly, for the reader who knows nothing about fishing or baking, you want to provide them with valid information so they can learn and expand their knowledge of the topic.

Of course, soccer is not the primary focus of my novel, just as your subject may not be yours. But the value of authenticity can't be underestimated. As writers we need to know what we are talking about. Yes, our stories are fiction, and perhaps even set in another world, but you want to build a trust with your reader through the presentation of real facts — a trust that allows them to not have to question your details; a trust that allows them to fall deeper into the story because you have done all the leg work for them.

Authenticity goes along way in strengthening a story, and a long way in creating a relationship with your reader. So even if you might not like doing all the research, keep going. In the end, when a reader can benefit from all your behind-the-scenes work, the research will pay off, your story will be stronger, and it will all be worth it.