Writing is Hard

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Writing is really, really hard. I think this is how you can tell if someone is a writer. If someone tells you that writing is easy, they are probably not a writer. It’s easy to make letters appear on a page. But it’s hard to refine them. And it’s really hard to erase them altogether. But every writer, at some point, has done this. Even though it was hard.

I was once a revision hater, too. I didn’t necessarily think everything I wrote was perfect, but I liked most of it too much to think of editing as anything more than revision – spelling, grammar, syntax. I might have gone back and added quite a bit to my longer stories, but I never went back and changed what was already written. In college I was blessed with the ability to get As without trying too hard. I almost never even proofread my papers, much less revised them. Turns out, this was just as much a curse.

Revision is critical to the writing process. I have always believed this on some level, but not practiced it enough to benefit in any way. The hard part for me is the visualization: here is this rough, lumpy thing that I poured hours and heartbeats into, and now I need to rewrite it, spending more and more hours, and at the end most of those words will be sacrificed so that the pulse becomes stronger.

But how do you make that happen? My strategy so far is to put in the hours. Start at the beginning and literally write it again. Don’t “revise.” Rewrite. At least, that’s the only way I seem to be able to make noticeable, beneficial changes.

Do you have a different strategy I should try?  Or any advice in general on the subject of that process – the writing – that comes after the first draft?

After the Storm

If you live in Michigan, or anywhere nearby, you know what a great storm we had last night. And if you’re anything like me, that means that your first thought this morning was “Let’s go to the beach!”

I like sunbathing and beach reading and lovely wave-narrated naps as much as the next person, but I wanted to go to the beach to find out what had washed up in the night. Unfortunately, because I want to get a graduate degree (I do I do I do), I had to spend the morning inside a really great coffee shop down the road working on a piece for my next packet. (Not really such a sacrifice, come to think of it.) Coincidentally, the piece I’m currently writing is about Lake Michigan and the wide variety of things that can be found along the shore there.

Because of this, I’ve been doing a LOT of reading about Lake Michigan. Everything from books about beach glass and rock picker’s guides to books about shipwrecks and Chicago. So walking along the beach today, there were a lot more facts running through my mind, and my eyes were looking for a lot more than just the usual beach glass. As luck would have it, this meant I found almost nothing (luck, or the dozens of people who scoured the beaches prior to 1PM). Caleb found most of what is in the photo below, while I hunted and shifted and dug and found maybe three pieces.

Hunting for beach glass and fossils is a pretty enjoyable hobby, and it helps that beach glass is far more plentiful here on the lake than it is on the Chesapeake Bay. There is almost always something waiting to be found on the lake shore. And after a big storm, there’s a really good chance of finding it. (As long as you’re not looking too hard – like me.)

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Procrastination Problems

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College taught me, as it teaches every student, to be a skilled procrastinator. Test? Read over your notes and quizzes during the empty class period before. Project? Late night Wal-Mart run and acrylic paint brushes in the RA office during the preceding shift. Eight page paper? Start at 11 PM and write til dawn. Sleep for a few hours, roll up and head to class to turn it in.

As I began working on projects that I come up with and enforce myself for my master’s, I somehow tricked myself into thinking that those days were behind me. Frenzy? Overrated! Panic? Left behind! Everything looked up from the beginning, when I started my first packet before even getting home from residency and worked on my writing predictably enough throughout the weeks. I had both books read (required reading, but I picked them out!) and my packet finished nearly a week before my deadline. All that was left were a few short, critical essays. We call these SCEs in the Spalding world, and they are tiny foes, only 2-4 pages each, on the subject of your choosing, based out of the books that you chose to read.

Yet here I am, days later, and still no SCEs on my hard drive. Did I deceive myself by believing they would be easy? Do I really have to go back to the days yore and stay up writing them the day before I must put them in the mail to my mentor?

No. I will write them today!

But first I’ll procrastinate by writing this blog.

P.S. – Has anyone tried out Camp NaNoWriMo? You can set your own word count goal, and you can write whatever you want, including nonfiction. The next session starts July 1st… anyone want to share a cabin with me? There are 50% off coupons for Scrivener waiting on the other side!

When You Have No Office

Five months after our move to the breezy north, Caleb and I have yet to move above ground out of our chilly burrow. Because we are still in this apartment I’ve still been having trouble working on writing from home. Hopefully once we do move I’ll be able to set up a nice writer’s room and things will get easier.

In the meantime, however, my desk is not an ideal place to work due to the lack of natural lighting, and I can’t sit elsewhere in the apt. because then I can see all of the dishes, the laundry, the housework I should be doing. (If you’re looking for guilt-free procrastination techniques, this is for you.) So lucky for me, the beginning of my first semester at Spalding coincided with the opening of a great local coffee shop not five minutes from my house.

The shop happens to be owned by some friends of ours, and they arranged for me to write blog posts for them in order to get the word out without adding to their already busy schedules. In return, what do I get? A tasteful, caffeine-rich new office full of natural light!

It’s a pretty great deal – and I get a lot more work done!

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If you’d like to check out the blog, click here.

 

Bonfire?

Bonfire

The other night Caleb and I arrived at the beach at 7:36, fashionably late for a 7:30 bonfire on a balmy June evening of 61 degrees.

Only, we were the first ones there. And there was no fire.

Aside from a single carload of friends equally perplexed about the plans that fell through, we remained the only ones gathered around a pile of unlit wood until 8. Fortunately when they did finally arrive they brought blanket, marshmallows, and all of the required accouterments for smores.

Except, of course, the fire.

By the time Caleb went home for a lighter and came back, it was 8:30, and we finally had that greatest symbol of human progression.

I found myself critical of the “wasted” time. An hour on the cold beach with no fire or friends? After all, I could have been home writing or revising or reading or working on any number of things (including the dishes that somehow piled up WAY too high this week…). But instead I was sitting at a beach doing nothing. (To those of you to whom this sounds like heaven, might I remind you of the temperature? I was wearing jeans and a fleece. Summer, my foot.)

As Caleb’s fire began to warm us, marshmallows were finally roasted, and many friends suddenly gathered around, I realized time spent doing nothing can be valuable, in it’s own way. This is something I’ll always readily admit, but usually my nothing time is time during which I planned to be doing nothing. Surprise nothing is not something I’m totally comfortable with. But with all those dishes on the counter when I got home that night, I realized I might not have been planning nothing for a while.

So thanks for nothing! =) And the pleasant warmth, music, and company that followed.

Even if 61 is WAY too cool for June.

 

Re-immersion

Reading List

Getting back into the swing of things after any kind of trip or absence is always hard. Getting back into the balancing act of life, while adding another brick – writing 35-50 pages every 3.5 weeks – is especially difficult. When the trip you’ve returned from was entirely focused on writing, inspiration, and empowerment, it is super depressing to realize that the farther you get into your five-hour drive home, the more things you wanted to bring back with you are left behind. And when you go at once into a gathering of people with nothing in common to where you just were… you get the picture. By the time Wednesday rolls around, empowerment has said goodbye, inspiration is riding into the sunset, and the writing muse has her arms crossed and a frown on her face, like, “Well? Weren’t you supposed to be progressing by leaps and bounds? Shouldn’t you have twenty good pages written by now instead of just the seven crappy ones you wrote before you even got home?”

Yes, Muse. You’re right. But are you surprised?

In the meantime, even just this little bit of writing about writing is enough to get some juices flowing. The bigger problem is that as soon as they begin to rush it’s time to put the pen/laptop/phone down and go to work. Luckily, I work in a library… so researching these 35-50 pages of nonfiction is pretty easy.

If you’re reading this and you’re a writer, what’s the easy part for you? What’s the hard part and how do you handle it?

When Writers Gather

My first MFA Residency experience has been one of absolute joy and a profound sense of belonging which I don’t know that I’ve experienced more than a few times in my life. I am living and working and eating among 125+ others who are seeking the same thing I seek. Doing the same thing I do. Striving for the same thing for which I strive. Whatever the genre, the age, education, number of publications, we are all artists, working to improve, to perhaps some day perfect, our art.

Although it is only halfway through, I can already say with certainty that this has been the most rewarding experience of my creative life. Workshop every day. Lectures on craft and on elements of writing that inspire me to go out and live the way a writer should! Readings by faculty members who are brilliant. Purchasing faculty books and not knowing which one to read first. If a heaven for writers exists, this week must a peek around the corner, a tiny window, a door knocker.

Needless to say, the creativity is so pervasive one can feel it in the air, a physical energy, a presence that follows down sidewalks, into buildings, up stairs. If writers could feel this energy all the time, surly they would get a lot more work done. There is a love here, for words and for what we can convey and create and imagine while using them. There is a camaraderie and a respect in everyone for everyone else, everyone knowing that we have come here, together, from the corners of a vast country to seek out and strive for the very same things.

I walk a few blocks in the morning, two fiction writers behind me discussing the difficulty they have presenting round antagonists, the opposite of their beloved protagonist heroes.

I pass a group lunching beneath an umbrellaed cafe table, one reading poetry aloud to the other, who listens with interest and respect.

I seek a place to sit, be still, and ponder.

I feel incredibly blessed to be here, and relish that while much has happened, much is still to come.

A taste, for you, of what has transpired here, is this Sonata No.3, “Moon,” composed by Jeremy Beck – an excerpt of which I saw performed live on Sunday. Enjoy! And may you be inspired.

Embarking

The Workbooks are read, the assignments finished, the schedule set.

As I prepare to leave for my very first MFA residency on Friday, I am mostly excited. In just two days, I’ll be travelling back to Kentucky to stay at the Louisville Brown Hotel with dozens of other writers who fall on various places along the line between “just like me” and “polar opposite.” For ten whole days, my life will be devoted solely to writing, to the craft and the art of it, to doing whatever it takes to be the best I can be, and encouraging others to do the same.

I am more than a little nervous, as well. Some of these others are far more “writer” than me. Whether because they are older, because they are better, or because they have a published book, the imaginary faces of the people I will meet loom with intimidating smiles and firm handshakes.

I am also grateful. The best decision I’ve ever made for my writing was to marry Caleb, someone who not only accepts the fact that writing is what I want to do, but supports me in pursuing this degree, rejoices with me when new opportunities arise, and celebrates with me over acceptance letters. (More on these soon!) Writing is a lonely business, but so much less so living with someone who wants the same goals for me that I have set. And this week, less so immersed in a community of others who have those very same goals for themselves.

More than anything I am determined to make the most of this amazing opportunity! As confusing as things can sometimes be working online, when one sentence skimmed instead of read could mean you miss a VERY important piece of information that you didn’t know about soon before something needs to be completed, I know this program will be the boost I need to re-develop the writing habit, and to think of writing as a daily habit for a lifetime, rather than a monthly assignment for a class.

So here’s to new experiences, honed skills, and excellent wordsmithing. Spalding, here I come!
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Goodbye to Appalachia

“For the mountains may move and the hills disappear,
but even then my faithful love for you will remain.
My covenant of blessing will never be broken,”
says the Lord, who has mercy on you.
– Isaiah 54:10

My feelings about returning to the University of the Cumberlands for commencement were mixed at best. It was a fun time, and great to see family and professors and all that, but there was a bit of pointlessness behind all of the pomp and circumstance. After all, Caleb and I have already had our diplomas for nearly five months, were are both employed in exactly the areas were wanted to be employed in doing things that we love, and we have moved to another state. As cool as the ceremony was, there was a distinct feeling that we were beyond it before it began, and our excitement was not the electric pulse that seemed to course through the May graduates.

The real feeling I had while at UC was a sense of final goodbye. When we left in December, it was sad in a way, but mostly just exciting. We knew we’d be coming back for ceremonies. Instead of goodbyes, we said “See you in April’s.” In April, it felt weird to come back and realize life in the ‘burg had continued on as normal without us. I thought of other seniors I had known who left while I remained, and knew that just as life had not changed for me then, no one’s life had changed for them now. It was great to see old co-workers and professors, but once again instead of goodbye it was “See you in May.”

That May trip has come and gone, now, and at the end of it we had to truly say goodbye. For the first time in my life, I left UC without having even an idea of when I might return – much less with the knowledge of the exact date of my arrival back on campus as I have almost always had in the past. This uncertainty led to my first true “goodbye” to UC – not see you in the spring, have a great summer, don’t have too much fun over break. Those English classrooms, so much learned within them; those sidewalks, so many conversations they overheard; those mountains, so many adventures they have given me, but so many more they still hold. On my next trip, all might be entirely changed. The girl I was when I learned those things, talked to those sidewalks, adventured in those mountains – she’ll be gone too.

For the first time I feel I know what it’s like to truly leave a place, a place that has sheltered and fed and given life to me. I will miss you Appalachia. Now let’s see what I will be when I do return.

Graduate

Adventures in Nature

Caleb and I recently decided to become members of the local nature center, Sarrett. After living in the Appalachians for four years, we’ve been going through some adventure withdraw up here in (mostly flat) Michigan. While not a mountainous national park with hiking like we are used to, the Sarrett Nature Center provides some lovely board walks and trails through swamp, brush, and wood.

I packed a bag with journal, pen, and book, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and work or read inspired by the outdoors all around me.  This cool Red Dogwood Bench seemed like the perfect spot, until I sat down, and realized there were far more bugs in inspiration than I am comfortable with. So I walked on. (If you keep moving, they mostly leave you alone.)

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The next bench, too, was buggy. Go figure. I gave up on my plans and decided to snap some pictures instead!

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Unfortunately, Sarrett is, at least at this time of year, little-used, meaning that the birds and frogs and such were so shy it was ridiculous, flying away and jumping into ponds from as much as 10 or 15 feet ahead of me! I had a tiny run in with a garter snake, who of course hid his head in the grass before I could reach the shutter, but other than that – let’s just say I’m grateful that flora has neither the capacity for fear nor the ability to flee that fauna are so fond of!

Sarrett

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All in all, it was a fun and relaxing trip on one of the first truly warm days we’ve had in Michigan this spring. I’m looking forward to seeing what the trails look like with green leaves on all the trees and the plenty that is summertime!