Your Stories!

Waaay back in 2003, I met a new friend who worked for a cell phone company. He had a state-of-the-art, brand-spanking-new smart phone. I still had an old (already out-of-date) flip phone. With glee, he showed me how one could play games on the phone and send emails and check the weather online. I scoffed. “Why in the world would anyone want to do anything else on their phone besides, oh, I don’t know, make phone calls??”

Yeah. This is why I’m not a multi-billionaire tech guru…

I was thinking about this (as I absently scrolled through apps on my latest iPhone). How I was so convinced I didn’t need this snazzy new product only to be convinced (by consumerism, convenience, peer pressure and my own lagging curiosity) that perhaps I did? Now I scoff at people who don’t have one. (Yes, I hear they do exist.)

I didn’t know I needed a smart phone, yet now I can’t put mine down. 

I didn’t know I needed my latest favourite novel, yet now I can’t put it down.

People don’t know they need your story. That doesn’t mean they don’t need it. They just don’t know it yet. 

So take heart. Take heed. Keep writing. Then give us what we didn’t know we needed. 

Worth Its Weight In Gold

In a masochistic move, I re-read a short story I wrote last year. It’s a draft, read by no one but me, so I was expecting garbage. But I was surprised—it was pretty good! Not perfect, could use work, but still good. 

Huh. I wrote a good story. It felt like I’d found a hidden gem. Or a nugget of gold. Which got me thinking… If a nugget of gold sits undiscovered in a riverbed, does it have value? Is it worth the price of gold even if no one is aware of it? What if only you have it? That no one else knows its worth because no one knows it even exists. Does it still hold value? Does it have real value now, or is it only potential value? Does it only become worth something once you sell it? 

But that can’t be right, because I pay property taxes on the estimated value of my house, whose worth increases every year in our hot real estate market. I don’t sell my house every year, even if my tax dollars go up. 

So how do we define value in our writing? Does the only currency come in the form of interest from the publishing world (agents, publishers)? Are there other ways to reevaluate our own worth? 

Like maybe, just maybe, my small little story that only I know about is actually worth its weight in gold. And maybe, just maybe, I can be proud of that. 

The Language of Imagination

I love learning languages. Besides English, my native tongue, I’m almost fluent in French, was once fluent in Dutch, and have learned German, Russian and Swahili (not that I can speak them!)

You know my favourite language that I learned (which also happens to be one of the hardest)?

Imagination. 

I am fluent in the ideas I have zipping around in my head; their meaning and images are crystal clear to me. But when I try to translate those ideas for others? When I try to get those ideas out of my head and onto the page? Wow. Talk about miscommunication. 

That’s what writing is. It’s like taking a language only you know and translating it into a language your readers can understand. It’s hard to extract beautiful, abstract concepts from your imagination and turn them into something concrete another person can read. 

How do you do it? 

Start with what you and your reader have in common: story. A reader understands (implicitly or explicitly) the shapes and structures of stories, so when you start to put your ideas into those shapes and structures, you’ll start to communicate with them. 

But like any language, it can take time, effort—and practice—to learn. Which means there’s no need for you think you should be able to “just write”. It takes time, effort—and practice—to write so others can understand your ideas. 

We don’t learn a new language overnight; we don’t have to learn to write overnight, either. 

…Is Writing

You have a stack of books in front of you, non-fiction, maybe, for a heap of research you intend to do for your novel. Your computer is flush with open tabs on a plethora of websites, also for research. You may be writing a historical novel, or not. You may be writing contemporary fiction or not. Regardless of genre, most writers do some work before they prepare their outlines. 

For my adult fantasy novel The Fairy Tale Fringe Festival, I studied up on fairy tales, folklore, myths and legends. I read scores of them as well as academic studies on scores of them. I immersed myself in their importance in our culture because that’s what I wanted to reflect in my characters. 

And every minute of every research page I’d read, I had to remind myself I was writing. I wasn’t getting words on a page—hell, I wasn’t anywhere close figuring out a protagonist, let alone what their story would be about. But shouldn’t I be there, curser blinking on page 1? Isn’t that writing? 

Nope. Writing isn’t about words on a page. Writing is about words with meaning on a page. How could I infuse meaning into what I wrote if I had no idea what, exactly, I wanted to say?

Some people call this stage “prewriting” but I reject that label. Writing is a process, one that includes research and brainstorming and taking notes and playing around with ideas. 

Which means, at this first stage, you are writing. 

The Pen Gremlin

There’s a voice in my head I call the Pen Gremlin, a ball of anxiety that’s related to my Inner Critic (whom I’ve renamed my “Outer Critic” as a reminder that I’d never say to anyone else what I tell myself.) They’re not the same. My Critic is very clear about how I can’t write, but my Pen Gremlin is more insidious. Instead of outright critique, it asks questions. What if this scene isn’t working? What if I don’t have the right character arc? What if my world-building isn’t clear? What if, what if, what if???

On the surface, the “what-ifs” may seem helpful. I do need to ensure scenes are working. I do want strong character arcs. I do need clear world building. But my Pen Gremlin pulls me into a frenzied spiral. If my scene isn’t working, then I have to revise it. But what if I revise it and it’s still not working? What if I can’t get the next scene to work either? What if the whole story isn’t working???

So how do I pull back from Pen Gremlin’s clutches? By reminding myself there are other answers to Pen Gremlin’s questions. What if this scene isn’t working? I can get help. What if the story sucks? Then I’ve learned what doesn’t work so I’ll get it right next time. 

It’s easy to listen to the loudest voices in your head, but remember, your Pen Gremlin and Inner Critic (Outer Critic) aren’t the only ones. 

You Can Still Keep the Faith

There are times in our writing lives when not only do we feel discouraged, but we may feel like people around us are alsodiscouraging us. It may not be their intent; they may simply make a joke about your “hobby”, or throw up their hands in amused frustration at your puddle of tears over your secondary character’s death. And you may be able to laugh them off. After all, you do appreciate your dead character, is well, fictional. 

But if those comments hurt? You may feel alone on this journey. 

But what if you could reframe your perspective on their comments? My client Daniel Valdez, who’s working on his amazing memoir, writes that he sometimes in his youth he used to feel unsupported about the choices he was trying to make in his career and his life. But through the power of memoir, he was able to bring new insight into this period of his life. He determined that “people who discouraged me weren’t saying I couldn’t make it; they were just saying theycouldn’t do it.”

Brilliant, right? Someone in your life who can’t possibly see how they would devote the time, energy, despair and euphoria that you do to your writing life, may not say what you’d love to hear. But by recalling Daniel’s wisdom you can shake off the discouragement. Because it’s not you, it’s them. (And by the way, I believe in you, so you’re never alone. 🙂 )

Your Imagination

Writing is hard, absolutely, but it’s also fun, right? Otherwise we wouldn’t put ourselves through such angst. 🙂

But when we’re in the thick of self-doubt, it can be hard to remember why we started in the first place. So think back to that moment. Something grabbed a hold of you and didn’t let go. What got you so excited? 

For me, it’s the idea of retellings. I love myths, legends, fairy tales, and supernatural lore because it’s rife with possibilities. Taking bits and pieces of what we know and weaving it into something new is fascinating. When I remember the thrill I got thinking through angel lore for my young adult fantasy Evangeline’s Heaven or creating a fairy tale world for my adult fantasy The Fairy Tale Fringe Festival, I’m reminded of the joy I get from writing. It helps propel me forward. 

I don’t stop at reminiscing either. I love coming up with new ideas. I love the spark and excitement about new characters, a new premise, a new world. Yes, there’s a danger of abandoning your current story because, well, brainstorming can be easier. So yes, control your ideas instead of allowing them to control you, but it’s okay to take a break. I have a half-dozen journals, each with a different story idea. I may or may not ever follow through with any of them, but that’s not the point. The point? It’s fun to run around in my imagination. 🙂 Why not explore yours, too?

We Believe In You!

“I can’t do it,” my daughters would occasionally say about a school assignment. Frustration and anger and self-doubt would roil throughout our house. 

Of course they could do the work—they always did—but in the moment, it was pointless to argue. 

Instead I’d tell them it’s okay to feel that way. They didn’t have to have faith in themselves right then—I’d have enough faith in them for both of us. I’d hold onto the hope and optimism that they’d get through it until they were able to tackle the work. 

As writers, we often struggle with having that faith in ourselves, so it helps to have someone—a family member, friend, book coach (hi!)—to have faith enough for both. 

But it may not be obvious to them about how to support you.

A suggestion: write an affirmation on paper. Something like “I’m a great writer.” Or “I am persevering” or “I love my story ideas” or anything positive. Give a physical copy to your supporter. Then ask them, when they notice you’re in the depths of writing despair, to show you the paper. The affirmation is your faith in yourself—they’re literally holding onto it for you. You may not believe what you wrote in that dark moment, but that’s okay. Just because you have doubt doesn’t make the statement untrue. 

Then, when you’ve validated your emotions, you can dive back in. 

And be sure to write a new affirmation. 🙂

Stay Open To Surprises

There’s a steadfast rule that my family must give me at least one book for Christmas. I dutifully provide a list; they dutifully buy off it. One Christmas, though, my husband discovered a book he thought I’d like that was not on my list. He knew the risk he was taking.

When I opened the gift, I felt silly. I’d never heard of the award-winning literary novel (Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell). I’m the one in the book business, not my husband. Wasn’t I supposed to know more than him?

Until I remembered there are hundreds of thousands of books published every year. Millions if you count other countries around the world. How could I possibly be expected to know about all of them?

I tried, years ago, to keep up. I remember reading many, many book review magazines, blogs and websites. I’d make lists of all the books I wanted to read. You know what happened? I spent all my (precious little) reading time reading about books rather than reading books.

I want to be informed about the writing world, but it’s so vast that I can’t know everything. And that’s a good thing, because it takes the pressure off. Now I can concentrate on my own areas of interest. And when someone else unearths a gem I’m unaware of and shares it with me? I can simply enjoy the surprise.

There is NO question (Just Do It!)

Here’s why I love working with writers: I love learning new perspectives!

My client Wendy Miller is hard at work on her extraordinary memoir. In one scene, she’s a widow whose friend tells her a new man, Steve, will be joining them for a concert. At first Wendy resists; just by hearing about him, she’s not interested. But she goes anyway. “If given a choice between doing something or not doing it, I should say yes because even if it sucks it gives you something new to talk about.”

Isn’t that an awesome piece of advice?? We’re storytellers! Of course we’re always on the lookout for something new to talk about. And isn’t she right?? That our regrets are often what we were too afraid to do rather than what we did?

Wendy took a chance. (And yes, she married Steve. 🙂 ) Either way she was going to come out with a story. And our lives are stories. Good, bad, heart-wrenching, heartwarming, full of joy, full of sorrow and every nuanced emotion in between. As writers, we get to share those lives (our lives, our characters’ lives) with readers. We get to share our own hard lessons and powerful insights. 

Like Wendy. She sums up her philosophy: “I don’t believe in right or wrong decisions particularly. How would we ever know it was wrong because we would never know what it would have been like if we decided differently? So, it is a waste of energy and a pointless exercise.”

Here. Here.