Writing Problems

Writing problems. We all have them – blocks, ideas that just aren’t working, words that won’t come or don’t sound right, lack of time, energy, etc… This gig, by which I mean writing, it isn’t for the faint of heart, or the half-hearted. It’s funny, but more and more lately I’ve wondered that writing is a lot like life. It’s a balancing act of finding time vs. making time. A battle between having the right words and forcing any words out. It’s a struggle between knowing the right thing (or way or road or whatever) and having to guess.

And it is a constant series of wondering if what you’ve done is good enough, if it was done fast enough, long enough, enough, enough, enough…

Having 4 kids, one only 4 months old, means it takes either a lot of scheduling to get time where I can simply sit at my computer and write, or it takes sacrificing of sleep. Some times it takes the scheduling of sacrificed sleep to get myself in front of this computer. And alright, full truth, sometimes it’s just a matter of luck too. (Right now, for instance, I’m able to sit at my computer writing this because the baby fell back to sleep after it’s morning feed, the girls are at my parents, and the boy had a couple friends sleep over and they tried to stay up all night and are still in exhausted slumber. See – luck!)

When I do get to the computer I’ve got about a dozen projects on the go between work, my sister’s wedding, and other personal ideas that I’ve been working on. Writing, some times is simply not at the top of the list. And other times I’m just burnt out enough from everything else going on in life, that when writing is at the top I just can’t, or don’t feel like I can.

It’s been that way for me for a while now. That feeling of can’t.

I hate it.

Yet, at the same time, I know that I’m simply not the type of writer that can sit down and force a story. I mean, I could, but I’ve done it before and, well, it was horrible. The writing was horrible. The story that came from it was horrible. I’m talking: even my 13-year old daughter thought it was bad, horrible. Everything was stilted, one-dimensional, tired sounding, and honestly just plain painful to read. So yeah, forcing out a story – not really my thing.

Great writing doesn't always come in a day, sometimes it comes in weeks and months. Honing writing skills. #amwriting pic.twitter.com/rtgyIa4olU

— Writing & Editing (@WrtrStat) September 28, 2017

Lately though I’ve been feeling the need to write again. The whispers in the back of my mind while I go about my day. The familiar tones and voices of my characters as they’ve once again began asking me to tell their stories. The sensations are wonderful, my dreams are again colourful and coming to life, and I’m looking forward to some quality time with my keyboard. Or pen and paper. Or my phone’s voice memo app. (Like I said time is a crunch with 4 kids.)

So writing problems… What have yours been lately?   

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Writer's Nerves

For the last month I’ve been working on a new story. Well, it’s actually probably closer to two months now but the last month has been spent focused exclusively on this story. In any case, I’m nearly finished the writing part of it and will be moving on to the personal edits and proof-reading phase soon, and then trying to find a couple beta’s to read it. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll be able to have this story into the hands of a special few by the end of the month.

Which sort of has my stomach in knots.

This specific story came at me from out of no where. Unlike almost all my other writing projects (of which there are many – all at varying degrees of completion, and all waiting for this story to get out the way so I can move back to them) this isn’t one that I dreamed of for a protracted period of time. When I sat down and started writing I really didn’t know all that much about my characters. I didn’t know their histories, their secrets and desires, or their dreams, and I had absolutely no idea what these characters were going to tell me.

 

And the result is something completely different from anything I’ve written before.  I’ve always written with some shade of paranormal, magical or mystical basis to the story line. Some of what I’ve written before uses mythology as a springboard for the plot. This story has no magic. No myth. There’s nothing paranormal, mystical or fantastical about it.

Instead, this story is a contemporary romance. 

 It’s about second chances, and love and family.

It’s about doing the right thing for all the right reasons, no matter how hard that may be, and then living with consequences – no matter how wrong that may feel. It’s about forgiveness. Not just forgiving others but learning how to forgive yourself too.

All of which boils down to me being nervous of the outcome, the final product.

But you know, as nervous as I am… I’m pretty excited too.

Writers, Dreamers, Inspiration & Words

It's not an exaggeration to say that writers are dreamers.
 
We have to be, if for no other reason than to be able to create rich worlds and characters, and stories. We may dream up our stories at night, or in snippets here and there during our waking hours. We may hear the voices of our characters begging for their story to be told, or telling us the story over and over again, until we have no choice but to let it out, to let them out.
 
Our inspirations come from life, from color and form. Even music or a simple conversations can plant an idea in our head that may grow and blossom into something amazing.
 
Hours spent at a computer or with pen and paper, time that many people would consider wasted, becomes fantasy, becomes prose, becomes an alternate reality... Strangers meet in a dimly lit bar. A damaged warrior seeks solace and peace, and finds so much more. Vampires, werewolves and gods spring to life and off the page.
 
A kind of magic is created by writers. And it takes a special something to be able to create it. For writers, their creations are their life and as important to them as their loved ones, as cherished as a child.
 
I'm thankful everyday that I can find the words to put to paper, the ones that describe a scene or emotion, the characters and all the little bits that individually may seem insignificant but when compiled together are absolutely intrinsic to the worlds that I'm creating. Every day that I can find the inspiration I need to write, I know that I'm alive and while I may not be living the life that many can understand, it is the life that truly makes me happy.
 
Find your inspiration. And you'll find the words will follow.
 
Today this is mine.

Thus Sprang Inspiration

I found out Tuesday evening that one of my friends from high school had passed away in a car accident earlier in the day.   We just celebrated our 10-year high school reunion this past July.  He had just celebrated his 29^th birthday a few days ago.  And in an instant, he was gone.  Some people may say “that’s life,” or that “it happens” and while that is certainly true, obviously true, it doesn’t make it any less shocking, or make it hurt any less. 

He was one of those guys who was the epitome of a gentleman.  He was always kind and polite; he always held the door for a lady and pulled out her chair.  He would carry your bag for you if it were too heavy, and always asked if you wanted anything when he was going to the vending machines or the store.  All in all, he was just a really great guy and the world was a little brighter with him in it.

Gaily I lived as ease and nature taught,
And spent my little life without a thought,
And am amazed that Death, that tyrant grim,
Should think of me, who never thought of him.
~René Francois Regnier

The shock of this loss made me think about some of the men that I’ve written into my stories.  The type of men that they were in the beginning, and the type of man they each will become by the end of their stories.  It has surprised me greatly, over the past few hours, to discover that the men I’ve written carry so many of the characteristics that I find in the men who have surrounded me all my life. 

From the 5-year old boys who selflessly share their crayons with the other kids, to the high school teenager who stops on the way to school to give rides to kids who are walking. 

There are the 20-something year old men who are willing, and happy, to help babysit their friends kids; or the ones who shovel your sidewalk every morning when it’s really cold, just so that you don’t have to. 

In looking at my male characters, I found one in particular who reminds me of my passed friend.  My memories of him must have formed some aspect of the inspiration for the character, and through that character, for me, my friend will live on.

When working on and developing your characters, from where does your inspiration spring?