Change Is in the Air — But What About Writing?

I'm moving! It's official. As of September 5th, I will be the new Junior Project Marketing Manager at a really great academic publisher in New York City. And there's so much to do in such a short time!

Interviewing last week and receiving the job offer two days later, I took the weekend to make my decision. Officially accepting the job this past Monday, it seems as if I have virtually no time to pack up my life and get myself down to New York to start anew. But so it goes, and the adventure begins!

In all of this — interviewing, contemplating, visiting, apartment searching, packing, and saying my 'see you later's  — my writing has certainly taken the back-burner. What can you do, right? Still, I've been feeling bad about this. I so want to finish my final revisions and send out my manuscript and start a new project, but some seasons of life just don't provide for that. Sometimes things get busy. And priorities must be shifted. Yet it is these times that remind me just how much of a discipline writing it is; just how much we have to protect our workspace, or it might never get done.

For the first time in a long time, I will admit that I see how easily writing can slip away. I understand again just how much of a discipline it is. Writing won't just take care of itself. It doesn't magically make time in your day for you to sit down and be magically productive. We have to make that time. We have to carve out the physical and mental space to create and shape our work. We have to set aside the time, set writing as a priority, and stay committed.

And it's okay that I've haven't been doing that right now. It's just not happening, and I accept that. But it can't be okay forever. Not if I really want to pursue these dreams.

So after another week or two, when I get settled, I have to start writing again. I have to be on a schedule that works with my new life, in my new city. The discipline of writing has been part of my life here in Boston, and so, too, will it be part of my life there in New York. Because I want it to be. Because my writing matters to me.

So here's to new adventures and chasing dreams. May we all remember what's important to us, and keep the discipline to make those things happen.

Remembering the Good Stuff, Even When It's Hard

I started writing my current book in January. January through mid April I wrote my first draft. After taking the rest of April off to finish my other projects and finals, I also decided to give myself May as a free, non-writing month to recover from grad school and catch up on feeling like a normal person. June and July have been revision months, and now I am into August. And in terms of writing and revising a book, the accumulation of these months don't really represent that long of a time frame. Some books take much longer to write, for a variety of very important reasons. But yet, even though it hasn't been that long, I am getting antsy. I am ready to wrap up my project, take a short break, and move to the next one.

Here's a funny story from this week. At work, my friend and I often talk about our evenings plans. So one day she asked me, "What are you doing tonight?" I said, "Oh, I am going to go hang out with Pearl. We're going to dinner." And my friend looked at me like I had lost my mind, because the name of my main character in my current novel is Pearl. Quickly, I understood her thought process and said, "No! Not that Pearl. A real person Pearl."

I tell this anecdote because the truth is that my fictional Pearl and my project have become such an integrated part of my life over the past few months, that I easily understood why my friend was momentarily confused. I love my current novel. After all this time, I still do — which I think is a great sign. But even with my enthusiasm for fictional Pearl, I can feel myself growing weary. I am ready to produce a polished, finished project and start on something new.

Honestly, I think in some ways this is a good thing. It is encouraging to know that I am looking forward to the next project; that I still have a strong enthusiasm for writing and ideas and creating something new. All of that is a great sign. But much like the rest of life, I think it is important not to rush forward, focusing on the end goal and forgetting to enjoy what is going on in the here and now. I know I am certainly someone guilty of this, in writing and in my day to day.

But as I think about all the work I've done with this novel, I can truly say that I've really enjoyed it. Along the way, I've learned and grown and sharpened my craft, but I've also laughed and felt for my characters and lost myself in the story.  And honestly, if I can get pleasure reading my story as if I wasn't the creator, and if I can know that sometimes, after a mediocre day, I find myself uplifted by my story, and thankful for the work I get to do and the way it makes me feel, then I need to cherish those moments — to remind myself that even though there are days when I am tired or working so hard and just want to reach the end goal, the creation is important to. The process of writing matters, just as the finish product matters.

So as I find myself antsy this weekend, and racing toward the end goal,  I need to remember to enjoy the process. Because of course I want to finish and wrap it up and send it out into the world with hope that someone might believe in it. But I've realized that when it is all said and done, I might just find myself wishing it all hadn't gone so fast.

Help When I Needed It — How Writing Gives Back

Writing is often seen as a chore. A habit you have to enforce. A discipline you practice. An endeavor you pursue. And all of this is true. Writing is a practice that must be honed and worked at; one that requires commitment and perseverance. We see writing as something we give ourselves to — an output of ourselves and our stories onto the page. 

But it's also more than that. Writing is an expression that helps us to get through all of life’s challenges. Writing provides a forum for the truths we hold important, and the difficulties we seek to both describe and further understand through our writing of them. It receives our words, like a good friend offering a listening heart. It provides structure in an often unpredictable world. Writing gives back. It gives to the writer, just as the writer gives to her writing. 

You see, often I fall in the first camp of thinking. I suspect most of us do. I like writing, but mostly I like producing stories that might one day affect the heart of another. I know some people who can't wait to write every day, which is totally great. But no matter how much passion we have to our craft, it still becomes work. As my good friend said to me this week after I described how much time I put into my work —"Books don't write themselves". And she's right. They don't. So we write them, dedicating hours and hours and restructuring our days to make sure to fit it in; and in that sometimes that feeling of "work" overtakes the feeling of "fun" or "passion", and habit overrides emotion. 

In theory, this is good. We writers want to be people of habit and dedication. But what about what writing provides to the writer? Don't we want to get something from this journey, too, apart from the ultimate dream of publication? Don't people say art should be for art's sake and not the end game? 

We could also answer these questions different, but here's why I'm writing this post: Last week, I realized just how much writing does for me. That's right. What it gives to me. And, to be honest, I could probably expound and expound on why I write and why choose this as such a major part of my life, but in this post, I'm just going to make one simple point, which I already alluded to above.  

Last week was a particularly hard week for me. And while I am more than happy to say everything turned out well, it was a difficult week to get through. It was trying. And in the midst of it, when there was nothing I could do but go about my day hoping and trying to be as normal as possible, I found my writing. 

Of course, it has always been there. But this week, I found how much my practice of writing helped me. In the middle of hardship, I found my writing a comfort in a way I had not anticipated. This habit allowed me to feel normal again. My characters allowed me to focus on another, very real part of my world. And above all, my writing was there - consistent, structured, unchanging, all determined by me. It provided the constant, reliable outlet that I needed. And before last week, I am not sure I ever realized just how valuable writing is in this way.  

No matter where I go or what happens, my writing is there. It's familiarity is comfortable to me. It lives within me and on the page. In times of trouble, I am sure writing will not always be easy. But the simple fact that it is there, waiting for me, ready to receive the weight of my heart or create something entirely new, that was a revelation that really helped me through. 

This whole writing thing, it's not a one way street after all :) Wishing you all comfort in your writing, and all good days ahead!

Finding Your Stride — Sticking It Out Until You Remember Why You Love This

A lot of people ask me how my revision is going. And it's a question I appreciate a lot. It shows encouragement,  interest in my work and my life, and this thing they know is so important to me. And this week, I was happy to be able to answer with a little more enthusiasm. To say that my revision was moving along; that I finally felt like I'd made some progess.

Now, let me be honest. I have a lot more work to do. And plenty more revising hours ahead. But something changed this week. I felt like I kind of hit my stride a bit more. I had a better understanding of my work as a whole. I felt super connected to my characters again. I had new ideas about moving scenes and inserting details and character placement. I saw more potential. And I liked revising, at least for a little while!

See, I'm not sure what exactly made this difference. Perhaps it was that I took a day off from work this week and revised twenty pages in one day, which really helped me feel like I made substantial progress. Or perhaps it's that in this part of the novel, pieces are starting to fall into place and my characters are prearing to embark on their journey. But I think part of it is simply the fact that I've traveled along the journey of my characters again. I'm invested in a new way. I'm re-invested in seeing them through, because at this point, in the way I hope my future readers will feel, I want to see what happens to them. I want them to succeed. I want them to find the answers that will lead to resolution.

Revision is work. And work like this fills a lot of hours. So I understand why sometimes I don't want to revise or why revision often feels like work instead of fun. But there's something to be said for sticking it out. And even more to be said about continuing your dedicated work through your disinterest.

Good book takes time. All art takes time. Time that isn't always fun. But much like running, we all need time to warm up. To find our stride and fall into a comfortable rhythm that will take us the distance. Sometimes, finding our stride takes just a few days. Sometimes it takes weeks. And from day to day that some comfortable level — that interest and motivation and enthusiasm — can change. But when you find what works for you, when you rediscover the excitement of your novel and have a moment that energizes you and brings new life to your work, then it will all seems a bit more worth it.  And hopefully you will that extra motivation you need.

So, here's to more hard work and dedication. And here's to hoping we find our stride just when we need it — that the love our craft surprises us again and again.

Slow and Steady — You Will Finish the Race

Oh, revision. That's what I've been doing lately. And to be honest, part of me misses the days of writing and creating, though of course, within revision both exist. Still, I miss the feeling of cranking out the pages and getting the story down on paper for the first time. There's something thrilling about that. Whereas writing is driving down a road never traveled, revision is going back and making the path smooth. There is beauty in that, to be sure, but it isn't always as thrilling. Some days I love it more than others, and I know some writers just rejoice in the land of revision, but right now, I kind of wish I could go back to that exciting, fast paced, write-it-all-down-before-it slips-out-of-your-mind kind of feeling.

In this first round of major revision, the pace isn't fast. It's not a whirlwind. It's slow and steady. I am not the hare in the proverbial race with the tortoise. I'm the tortoise. Moving along, getting it done, but certainly not impressing anyone (namely myself) with the speed, and not really doing anything flashy. Yet, there is a lot to be learned from this venerable animal:

The tortoise never gives up. He works at his own pace, allowing for the best work to be done instead of only completing a haphazard job. He is self assured. He doesn't allow a comparison to another animal's style to mess with his own, proven way of working. He is dependable. He will not burn out. He is self aware. And he will finish the race — with pride and integrity and just the way he was meant to.

We all have times of being the tortoise. Currently, this is my season. And at first, I felt slightly downtrodden with my lack of speed and flash and the basic need to just keep moving along without the excitement of the first draft. But actually, it's okay. It's more than okay. Working steadily, at your own pace and in your own style leads to the best work getting done. It leads to something you can be proud of. A piece of art that is well produced.

Revision is not easy. It requires commitment, and it requires that we go through each sentence with a fine-toothed comb. But rushing isn't going to help anyone, and it certainly won't benefit the quality of your work. And ultimately, revision is about producing quality work. So if you're revising, or just feeling stuck in the mire of writing, or struggling to get started, just remember the story of the tortoise.
Remember he is admirable and smart, dependable and able. And then work at your own pace, knowing you will finish. Because you will finish, and with commitment and dedication, you will produce good work.

Creating Discipline All Year Round!

The first day I started revising, after I pushed through my nerves and sat at my computer and crossed the start line, I think I felt something like this: "Wow, this feels so good! I'm so glad to be back in my story. I missed my characters. I really love this. What a surprise! Maybe revision won't be as bad as I thought!" 

Several days later, my thoughts settled somewhere in the land of, "Hmm, this is actually not so fun. It's kind of hard. I don't really know what I'm doing. I have my lists, sure, and I've done this before, but do I really know how to do this?" 

A few more days later, after several days of work and evening activities, and a fun weekend, this is what I am now thinking: "I need discipline!" 

The funny thing about life is that time just speeds by. In high school and college, I remember so many adults talking about life after school — how time just flies by and weeks become months and soon enough you look back and several years have passed. I always felt kind of disconnected from that idea, and slightly tired of feeling as though all these people were trying to preach to us 'youth' about how we should enjoy the time while we have it. But now, at the still-young-but-wiser age of twenty-four, I understand this sentiment better. When you go to work every day, each week, months can suddenly disappear. It's June, already? we all say. And when there is no forced structure of semesters and class deadlines and summers off, one season flows into another and into the next. 

Time passes quickly. So if your not careful with your work, you, and I, can lose a whole lot of time that leads to a whole lot of work not getting done. 

I know I've only lost a week, really. But this morning, I was shocked to realize just how much revising I did not do this week. Yikes! I don't want every week to be like that. In fact, I can't afford for every week to be as lax. I have to stick to some sort of schedule. And while it can be more relaxed and fluid than the one I had while in school, I can't let it go entirely. Not if I want to have specific writing goals. Not if I want to continue and produce a lot of work each year. 

Summer is a hard season. We all want to be outside, cookouts abound, and naps and ice cream just seem so enticing. Summer is specifically a hard season for writing because swinging in the park and meeting with friends and general relaxing are so much more fun than revising. But discipline is an all year requirement. Whether you are big into writing or exercising, perfecting a craft or learning a new skill, stick to it-ness is something we all need. 

So this week, I've decided I'm going to write out my revising schedule in advance. I've set specific goals, already made some social plans so I know just which days I'll be busy and what time of the day I should set aside for writing, and mapped out some revision goals for the next few weeks. To some, this may sound silly, or even too rigid. But I need to be committed to my work. I need to get revision done so I can send my work out to agents, and so I can start on my next project. 

Rest is important. I know that. Especially after two intense years of work and schooling. But discipline is really the only way to make sure we all achieve our goals. So while I hope to enjoy the summer, I also hope to get work done, too. Wishing you luck! I'll report back later, hopefully to say I've made lots and lots of progress!  

A Love Letter to My Graduate Degree

So this isn't actually a letter, but more of a reflection. A reflection on just how wonderful grad school has been, and just how much I have loved it.

You know, grad school is no joke. Sometimes reading up to six or seven books a week, writing weekly papers, working on a single project for more than half a semester, reading twenty-seven books over winter break, finishing a manuscript I had begun one semester during the summer between classes, writing and revising a complete manuscript under the guidance of a mentor, and completing another manuscript with a different mentor, the phrase "hard work" seems like an understatement. Grad school was harder than I thought it would be. And while the concepts and learning were definitely challenging, it was the sheer volume of the workload that created the highest demands .

I remember days going to work and feeling so overwhelmed with the amount I had to do and the little time I seemed to do it. Speeding through novels during my lunch hours and commute to work, saying no to plans and holing up in my room to finish all my assignments, outling, brainstorming, drafting, and creating — looking back it's kind of amazing how much I really got done. No wonder I am tired now. But in the midst of all this, during what perhaps seems unappealing and rather crazy to some, I have loved grad school. I have loved my program. And I have loved the people I've found within it.

Talking to my friend Allison last night, after she had turned in her last paper and was feeling slightly sad that school was now officially over, she said something to the effect of, "You know it's funny because I've never felt as much for a place as I do about Simmons." And the truth is I totally feel the same!

Coming to Simmons, I have found a community of people who are kind and interesting and passionate about the same things I am. I have found classes that challenge and expand my mind. I have found instructors who push and support and taught with enthusiasm. I have learned more about books I love and books I had never even heard of than I had ever imagined I would. I have been inspired. I have sharpened my writing skills. I have chased after my dreams. I have worked so incredibly hard. And I have tried to soak up every minute of it, getting the most out of this experience while it is here and in front of me. And now as it is ending, I reflect on just how good it has been, and what a blessing grad school has been to my life.

To be frank, coming to Simmons had been better than I had ever imagined. I almost attended a different school, but with a series of events pointing me to Simmons, I realize this was where I was supposed to be all along. I am so thankful for the learning I have done. I am so grateful for the support I have received. I am honored by my mentors who have given so much of their time and expertise to me. I am overjoyed with the friends I have made. This journey has been extraordinary.

Less than a week shy of graduation, I am looking forward to the celebration of hard work and good friendship. This season of life has really been a blessing — a journey I am so happy to have gone on no matter how hard it was at times. It's been a privilege, grad school. And an honor to walk alongside all of my friends and classmates.

So thank you to everyone who made these two years great. In school and out of school, I couldn't have done it without the support. I look forward to the many things just over the horizon, but cherish this part of the journey, and all the people who have walked along with me. Love to you all :)

The Anxiety of Waiting — Receiving My First Editorial Letter

Hello, blog! After a nice vacation, I am back and ready to work on my manuscript again. It was awesome to have some time to rest and give my mind a little break from my writing. But it is also nice to be back and writing for you all, again :)

My vacation to Costa Rica to visit my wonderful friend was lots of fun and provided some good rest from the intense amount of writing I had been doing over the summer. But, my vacation was also restful because it coincided with my first manuscript turnover to my editor/mentor for the semester. Right before I left, I officially handed in my manuscript, meaning that even if I had stayed at home, I would have had a week without my manuscript while my mentor did his first critique. So what that really means is that if I hadn't been away, I would have been waiting anxiously to receive my first set of feedback as the days passed by.

Well, even though I was out of the country and greatly enjoying my trip, I have to admit that I was still anxious about my fast-approaching editorial letter. Actually, I don't think I realized just how anxious I had been until after I received the letter on Friday. But at least the trip provided a good distraction and the reminder that things were out of my hands. All I had to do was wait for Stephen to send me his comments. So I waited. Trying not to anticipate what he would say, but rather just keep my mind open to receive whatever feedback might be coming, and to trust that my work was still as strong as I had felt it was when I turned it over.

So, I am happy to report that after receiving my very first editorial letter, there is much work to do, but also much encouragement to be found. Phrases like "impressed" and "very much like" and "firm grasp of the fundamental skills" were used — all of which made me smile, but more importantly made me excited about the revision and the upcoming hard work. I think one of the things I was most anxious about what that my mentor would either 1) not like the story and therefore want me to completely redo things, or 2) feel that my skills and my manuscript were not strong, and just lacking overall. Neither seemed to be true, and while there are very specific issues with the manuscript, and lots of revision to be done, I was quite pleased to find the encouragement within the letter that helped me to set aside my anxieties.

As a writer, there will also be an inherent anxiety that comes with sharing your work with another. Particularly those in the field, like an editor or agent; and especially those who have the power to push your novel toward publication. There is really not much to do about this anxiety other than work hard and trust your product. Of course, we all have this anxiety to varying degrees and at different times, but for me, I think it comes first in the initial blind read, when someone knows nothing about the manuscript or section, and it deciding if they like it for the very first time.

In the past, I had always workshopped portions of a piece rather than presented a complete manuscript for critique. So the idea that he might not like the whole thing, or that a revision would be so large, seemed overwhelming to me.  But now, while the revisions I am tackling in the next two weeks are certainly not small, I don't feel quite so frightened. I feel ready to make my novel better; ready for the hard work that will hopefully bring my manuscript to a place ready and worthy of publication.
 
One thing that really stuck out to me in my editorial letter was this sentence: "We have a limited amount of time and good work to do. So let's start." The fact that it said "good work," and not just "work" reminded me of just what I wanted to achieve. I want to achieve "good work" and ultimately a good manuscript. I want to work hard to make my craft better and my novel one that people would want. But to get there, to make anything good, I have to do the work. We all have to do the work. And part of the work involved critique. Honest critique.

I'm not saying that I won't once again be anxious when it comes to a future turnover, or when I send it to agents. And I don't think that anxiety is entirely bad, either. It means that I want this — this whole writerly thing we're doing. But at least for right now, I feel good about the good work I have to do, and commitment I have to make to get there. This fall semester is looking extremely hard, but in the end, one day, I know all this work will be worth it.