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.
I was driving in the car with my 16-year-old son when I realized I had nothing to write about this week.
“I have no ideas for my blog,” I told him. “I’m drawing a complete blank.”
“Why don’t you write about the movie you went to?” he said, referring to Bohemian Rhapsody. “You liked that.”
It was just past 6:30 and the party started at 7:00. There were boxes of books and tablecloths and candles and wine to be unloaded, food to be unpacked and beautifully arranged, microphones and music and smartphones to hook up.
There was a lot to do to prepare the rented space for my book launch celebration party and not much time to do it.
👉 Enjoy dedicated writing space just steps from Lake Michigan
👉 Benefit from one-on-one developmental editing sessions