I’ve been working on a new novel, and I have to pause here, already, because just typing those few words is challenging.
I barely like to admit it, because once I say those words a barrage of qualifiers come crashing in. Can I say I’ve been working hard on a new novel? No. Never hard enough.
Yesterday I went to an event and heard Marcus Lemonis speak. Marcus is the entrepreneur and investor who stars in the TV show The Profit.
Marcus never even took the stage in front of the 4,000 people gathered at the Sears Center, except during one short segment when he interacted with six women he’d called up. Instead, we heard his voice before we saw him.
In the sixties, there was a TV show called Dragnet with a detective named Joe Friday who insisted on gathering “just the facts.”
If you’re old enough to remember that show, you’ve been around long enough to have lived an interesting life. Even if you’re younger, you’ve most likely faced some challenge worth writing about.
So let’s say you want to write a memoir. Where do you start?
It was a brand new, emerald green Schwinn 10-speed bike. I was thirteen years old, and I’d never owned something so beautiful. The paint sparkled magically in the sunlight and when I rode that bike through the neighborhood, I sparkled too. I rolled easily through a landscape peppered with unhappy parents, mean girls, first crushes, and bad skin with my hands up, nothing to hold on to and, in those moments at least, nothing holding me back.
If you know me at all, you know that I like a good dose of woo-woo in my world.
I believe in following my intuition, prioritizing my spiritual practices, and recognizing divine messages. This is the lens through which I find inspiration and make decisions. It’s also, to me, a way of having fun.
I’ll admit, it’s an odd form of fun that can show up in strange ways.
I attended the Chicago Writers’ Association conference last weekend and, after two full days of workshops and socializing, I collapsed in exhaustion, both inspired and discouraged by all I learned.
Do you know the feeling I mean? Or, rather, feelings, because it was a stew of both excitement and self-doubt, bubbling between I can, I might, I will… and I could, I would, I should…
Today I feel like writing about mistakes. Heck, I’m even open to making some. Not that I haven’t already made my fair share. From the workplace to the home front, as a parent, wife, or friend, my mistakes sometimes include big life moments and, other times, small sweaty details.
What’s the secret to writing a scene that works? You may not know how to name it, but you certainly know when you read something that’s just meh, so-so. What’s missing? And what would it take to fix it? You might think good writing requires a mysterious balance of action, dialogue, setting, symbolism, and so on, and those things are all important. But there’s one fundamental ingredient that trumps all the craft in the world.
On this cold and dreary winter day, I’m feeling warm fuzzies thinking about all the beautifully creative people in my life (yes, that includes you!). I love watching others express their unique visions and there’s nothing I enjoy more than seeing the seed of an idea take root and sprout into something tangible.
I also know that, sometimes, it’s hard to believe that our creative efforts will bear fruit. Projects can begin to look like the view out my back window: frozen, lifeless, dull.
Have you seen the video on Facebook about how people react when company comes? A comedian does a bit about how having company used to be such a treat. Mom would make a coffee cake, bring out the good china, and the family would eagerly gather in the living room awaiting the doorbell.
He contrasts this to today when the ring of a doorbell makes us flip off the lights, dive for the floor, or hide behind the curtains, peering out suspiciously to see who dares to drop by unexpectedly. The idea of interaction makes us cringe.
👉 Enjoy dedicated writing space just steps from Lake Michigan
👉 Benefit from one-on-one developmental editing sessions
