Prices to Pay

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ann bauer, laura bogart, writing life, writing sponsor

I’ve been reading with interest several posts from women who have been honest and brave about sharing some of the major sacrifices that often come with choosing to write. Ann Bauer and Laura Bogart opened up about their experiences with depending on someone else for financial security, or eschewing that “sponsored” security and pursuing the pride of independent accomplishment, even when that means time, money, and relationship sacrifices.

I’m more in Bauer’s position right now. After we returned from 6 months of travel, Andrew and I agreed the best career choice for me would be to pursue freelance writing full-time. I’d hustle to establish myself in a line of work that offers me flexibility and fulfillment, and Andrew’s salary would give us the stability we need. He is, arguably, my sponsor.

It does chafe, knowing that I am still struggling to contribute more than a sporadic check to our finances. I’m at least covering my start-up and training expenses, with a little left over. I don’t need to feel that Andrew is financially indulging a hobby, but the problem of not making “enough” money is that it’s all too easy to start thinking of the work as a pastime. On slow days, I wonder if people see me as a 21st-century version of an Austen-esque lady of leisure, taking up sending pitches and writing blog posts instead of doing needlepoint as a way of being properly industrious. It’s so tempting to hide the fact that I need my husband’s paycheck, because to admit that feels tantamount to identifying as a “kept” woman.

Except it’s not. I could get a job and moonlight freelance assignments, as I did when I lived on my own. I can work 50 hours a week, cut back on sleep, write until the moment I turn out the light, and sacrifice leisure time to make ends meet. I’ve done it before. There have been times where a Target and grocery run represented the bulk of my “fun” outings for the week. I was stressed and close to broke and so proud of the fact that I could make it. My bills got sent on time, I read poetry on the couch because I couldn’t afford cable, and in the midst of working as hard as I ever have, I was still writing. I can live like Bogart, who cares about the integrity of her “brass knuckles” life too much to really envy Bauer’s “golden handcuffs.”

Except I can’t. Because what jumped out at me in Bogart’s essay was her admission that she “has given up time with friends and any semblance of a love life” to secure precious time at the keyboard. Before I took on that 50-hour workweek (plus grad school, plus writing), I ran it by Andrew. Not to get his permission, as such, but because it mattered to me that he would support me emotionally, that he would stay. My scraps of free time at dinner or on those weekend errand runs were spent in his company. I needed my independence and that sense of pride and accomplishment, but I also needed a sense of intimacy and partnership. I love writing, but I will not sacrifice a committed relationship for it. It’s too high a price to pay.

So here I am, still craving financial self-sufficiency as a way to prove my writing matters, still unwilling to budge on having a marriage and family. It’s not a mutually exclusive set of desires, even if sometimes it feel like it might as well be. Bauer and Bogart’s essays scare me because they represent extremes of how “real” writers make it work, and they key into my self-doubt. I don’t have Bogart’s fierce resolution to commit to writing above all else. I don’t have Bauer’s sense of ease with setting her own standards for what counts as successful. I’m still somewhere in between, wanting to have it all, hoping that being in between sides doesn’t disqualify me.

It really is good, though, that writers like Bauer and Bogart are sharing themselves so frankly. Writing isn’t an easy gig. It’s often undervalued and over-romanticized. Sacrifice is part of any writer’s life, in time or money or freedom or love. Talking about it publicly is one of the ways that we can help each other understand the real prices behind a writing life, and learn to discern for ourselves what we are able to pay.

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A Light Bulb Going Out: The Weird Way I Cured My Writer’s Block

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beating writer's block, when the writing isn't happening, writer's block, writing, writing life

On Friday, I had a bit of a meltdown. It had been a hectic week, I was jealous about the successes my writer friends were posting on their Facebook pages, and when someone honked at me for no reason on the ride home, it was the last small indignity to push me over the edge.

I had been sitting in the downstairs bathroom for about 10 minutes with the lights out, feeling sorry for myself, when my husband poked his head in the doorway and astutely said that this did not seem like normal behavior, and that he had deduced that probably something was bothering me.

Obviously there was more than one problem on my mind that evening, but one of the things that came out in my tearful rant in the bathroom was that I was in the worst stretch of writing my current story: unsure of the ending, doubtful of the characters, hearing the disdainful voice in my head that pops up to suggest I scrap the whole thing. I knew taking time to get productive writing done would make me feel better, but all my inner negativity made it harder than usual to get my butt in the chair and do it.

So I wrote in the bathroom while Andrew made dinner. Silence is good. Privacy is good. Even darkness was good that night (that’s right, I sat in my powder room for 25 minutes typing by the glow of the laptop only!). I realized that in the depths of my self-conscious stretch, what I needed in order to function creatively was to feel like no one would be able to tell if what I was writing was bad. Being in a quiet space where no one could ask me how it was going (or know not to ask by my expression) helped ease my nerves. In the dark, I could even, oddly, pretend the room was truly empty–that I wasn’t even there–and use that to confuse my inner critic into silence. I felt a little silly, but by dinnertime, I had almost 400 words written.

Tonight I’ll be back in my usual spot for writing, but I’m filing away the weird trick of literally shutting myself away and turning off any other distractions–even the lights.

Let me know if you try a dark writing session, or if you have other weird rituals that help you shake off a block!

A New Relationship with Writing

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making time to write, writing, writing life

Wow, what a winter break of revisions it’s been! I am proud to say I mostly stuck to the plan I made in December. Starting with an idea of what changes I wanted to make to a story helped keep me from getting (too) overwhelmed when I sat down to work–and I did sit down to work. Almost every day, sometimes for 5 minutes, sometimes for more than an hour. As a result, I’ve revised 6 of the 7 stories I plan to include in The Book and am considering adding an eighth to the collection, if I can get it done in time.

I’ve also been thinking about the fact that, more than in any other semester, this year’s break has been a sign for what Life After School might be like, writing on my own momentum, fueled by my own desire to put out the best stories I can. It’s changed my mind about my goals for writing this year.

It’s always mystified me to hear people talk of a deep “need” to write, as though their sanity hinges on it. You know that stereotypical artist’s parent who’s contemptuous of the child for not having a “real” career? That’s been me. I don’t like to admit writing can be fun, even when I do it in my spare time, even after I have a good session and my story’s all I can talk about for the next hour. It’s starting to seem ridiculous to keep this grudge against what I do around.

This year, instead of resolving to write every day, churn out a set number of stories, hit time or word goals, or meet similar numerical quotas, I want to accomplish something I imagine will be more rewarding and lasting: I want to take my relationship with writing to the next level. I pledge to do my best to remember that writing is fun and fulfilling, and to approach my laptop at the end of the day with a welcoming spirit. I promise to use quantifiable goals and quotas as tools to encourage me to write, not an end in and of themselves. Most importantly, I promise to keep going after my grad program is over, even if no one’s reading. Sooner or later, if I put joy and work into it, someone will.

The Book, Step 1: Tackling a Revision Plan

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grad school, making time to write, revising, The Book, writing life

The semester is over! Hooray! And it ended on a high note: my professor left me the most positive review yet of my last story. I’m feeling bold enough to consider submitting it for publication once I put in a few more edits. It’s nice to end the semester with a dash of bravery.

What makes the jolt of self-confidence particularly welcome is that this winter break I will be preparing my manuscript. This past semester gave me a much stronger feeling for what people notice most in my writing and what I might like to highlight, but I’m looking at at least one more pass on every story I’ve lined up. I don’t want the break to slip away from me, so here is my Revision Plan, a guide to help me make the most of my time and relax over the holidays, too:

1. Count stories. Count days/weeks. Plan accordingly. Know when to move on to a new story that needs attention instead of picking endlessly at one.
2. Start by identifying the issues. Note the most common critiques or the areas I see as most in need of revision to avoid wasting time wondering where to start.
3. Focus on the big stuff first. Minor language edits are easy enough to sneak in at the last minute than character development, a shift in pacing, new dialogue, or even additional scenes.
4. Spread work out over multiple sessions. I usually get more done in three 30-minute sessions than one 90-minute slog. It helps me to think about the story and come to a more creative solution to a problem during my “off” time and keeps me feeling more focused and relaxed while I’m in front of the screen.
5. Put in as many days as possible. Ten minutes spent fixing a paragraph means now I have a fixed paragraph. It’s still worth it.
6. Keep a positive outlook. However tough this project is, I’m working toward my first book, and that’s something to celebrate! Just try to save most of the congratulatory wine sipping for after the night’s editing is done…

Seeing the Light

Tags

books, grad school, publishing, The Book, writing, writing life

I registered for my last grad school class! There are only 3 class sessions left in this semester, and then one semester’s worth of design, editing, and production, and then (knock wood) I’ll burst out the other side of school into a world where I have my degree and all my evenings to myself. Not to mention that I’ll be a published author.

One of the things that excited me most about the program I chose for my MFA was that instead of amassing a manuscript for my thesis, I’ll get to go through the whole process of designing and publishing my work, with instructors and peers there to mentor and support me through the process. It’s an incredible thought after the 8 years I’ve spent studying and practicing writing, and despite my professor’s advice to the contrary, I haven’t been able to help daydreaming about the content, organization, and cover design for my first leap into the shelves.

It doesn’t feel quite real yet. I imagine it won’t until January, after I’ve revised this semester’s work and put together my rough manuscript (once I hold that in my hands I know something is going to click!). But the first rosy glimmers of “this is real” and “I’m going to be done” have arrived. I’m starting to feel more excited than nervous about what the next 6 months will bring.

What Are Your Rules for Writers?

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rules for writers, writing, writing life

This week in class, we read Colson Whitehead’s smart and often hilarious advice on How to Write. Based on that, I put together my own list of rules. They’re personal, based on what works for me and the traps I struggle to avoid, but I wonder if some of them might be more broadly applicable as well:

1. Resist the urge to summarize. Writing should move forward. Summaries, at least in my experience, all too often are safety cushions against a braver ending.
2. Start with what you know. Fiction by definition wouldn’t exist without improvisation and exploration, but it’s equally essential to ground a story somewhere. Emotions are good starting points.
3. Never show anyone your first draft.
4. You know what, don’t even talk about the story until draft 3. It’s so fragile in the early stages. Volatile, too. Anything you say about the story may well be better than anything you’ve written down so far, and you won’t remember it later.
5. Write the part of the story you’re excited about first, regardless of whether you’ve written it yet.
6. Be flexible, both inside and outside of the story. Write Every Day only works until the first case of food poisoning. Make rules you can stick to, and don’t write drafts so rigid you can’t follow a better idea.
7. Have fun with revising. Cutting a story up with scissors is a good way to quickly try out new scene arrangements and keep in touch with the fearless inner kindergartener at the same time.
8. Write scenes that aren’t even supposed to be in the final version for the sake of getting to know the characters better.
9. If it’s in because it makes you feel clever, it probably shouldn’t be in.
10. Writing in any subgenre has the potential to be literature (here’s to you, spec fic).

What writer’s rules do you swear by?

Writing Update

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writing, writing life

It’s all about getting your butt in the chair, whichever way you cajole, trick, threaten, or bribe your way in, right? The first week and a half of the 1,000-minute goal is overall going well. Here’s what I’m learning so far:

1. Time adds up. Whether it’s a 40-minute blast or four 10-minute nibbles throughout the evening broken up with dinner, Internet browsing, and writing bridal shower thank-you notes, I’m spending the same time writing. Mostly, it even seems I get about the same amount of writing done no matter how I split, which is key.
2. Concentrating my efforts is good. So far this month, I’ve spent just over 5 1/2 hours writing, almost all of it focused on one story. I’ve been through the draft twice and there’s barely a paragraph I haven’t changed at least once. The result? When Andrew read the new version, his response was “I finally understand what’s going on with these characters!”
3. Boredom is a tool. It’s easy to claim lack of inspiration as an excuse not to write. The truth is, every single time I’ve scrolled to a part of the story I disliked, put my hands in my lap, and waited, it was a matter of about 5 minutes before I thought of something I could do to make it better. Your brain wants to be entertained. I bet you a pile of dollars that if you set a timer for just about anything above 10-15 minutes, resolutely ignore the Internet, and stare at the blank page, your brain will have something to put there before the end of that time.

I will confess I’m slightly behind on my minutes goal at the moment, but what I’ve learned from NaNo is that there’s a point near the middle of large goals where the novelty wears off and a bit of sliding happens. The key is not taking a slide as a failure. There are plenty of opportunities to catch up, and given how productive this challenge has been so far, I’m determined to keep at this.

My Proud Moment This Week

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making time to write, writing, writing life

It’s been a busy week. I’m taking on another big book at work and copyediting it myself. It’s cool because the book is about neuropsychology, which is at least tangentially in my field (Media Culture was half psychology). It’s stressful because the book is over 1100 pages and it’s on a tight turnaround. Today was mostly editing references.

Sometimes I have weeks where I feel like I’m getting lots done, but not going anywhere. Today would have been one of those weeks. I can dismiss what I do during the day job as being a separate category from the personal goals I set for myself. I haven’t been to the gym in weeks because I’ve been exhausted, and it’s frustrating to think I’m at least appearing to be the out-in-February failed-resolution crowd. I got the last piece of homework done in class as the professor was setting up.

But what I’m really proud of is that even if a lot of other things felt rushed or missing this week, and even if it was only one day, I wrote this week. Even though I was tired last night, I ended up finishing some homework early, so I pulled up my story, and made it to the end. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, either. There are some vague moments that could get teased out more and a paragraph or two that I’m not sure I’ll keep, but I like the concept of it and the way my experiment is paying off. It’s my little triumph of the week, finishing an edit on that story, so even though my shoulders are sore from sitting in this office chair all day, I am feeling good, heading into the weekend.

Reading for Writers

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dorothea brande, inspiration, natalie goldberg, peter bowerman, william zinsser, writing, writing life

A friend of mine contacted me the other day because she’s interested in getting into writing more seriously and wanted to talk about how to get started. It was wonderful because it’s always an ego boost when people think you’re good enough at something to ask for your thoughts, and because having lunch with a friend and talking about books and writing sounds like an ideal way to spend a few hours of a Saturday afternoon.

I was putting together some recommendations, books and blogs and magazines that have helped shape my understanding of what being a writer means, so it only seems fair that I would share them here:

The Books

1. On Writing Well, by William Zinsser. One of those perfect books on structure and craft. His focus on clarity, strength, and confidence in writing is as applicable to poetry as nonfiction, copywriting, blogging, or novels.
2. Becoming a Writer, by Dorothea Brande. An oldie, originally published in 1934. This book addresses “personality problems” like writer’s block, how to balance reading well and writing well, developing a writing schedule, and so forth.
3. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott and Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg. A Zen follower and poet, Goldberg is a legendary writing guru. Her writing philosophy combines deep introspection and moment-by-moment awareness in a writing style that feels to me like creative meditation. Anne Lamott’s book is named after a memory of her brother panicking at the thought of tackling an overwhelming ornithological project. Her father’s advice, “Just take it bird by bird, buddy,” is perfect for novelists working to break past the “Chapter 1–now what?” hurdle.
4. The Well-Fed Writer, by Peter Bowerman. Because being a starving writer in a garret isn’t half as romantic as it seems (and it doesn’t even seem that romantic). Bowerman delivers practical tips for starting and running a lucrative freelance writing biz. His lively, engaging voice is like having a session with a career coach, no-nonsense and encouraging at the same time.

The Magazines

1. Poets & Writers (more literary)
2. Writer’s Digest (more commercial/consumer magazine)
3. The Writer (excellent for beginners, has the most articles on developing writing skill)

The Blogs

1. Carol Tice’s http://www.makealivingwriting.com (freelance how-tos)
2. Ali Luke’s http://www.aliventures.com (fiction and creating a strong blog platform)
3. Copyblogger’s http://www.copyblogger.com/blog (copywriting and blogging)

Which writing books, blogs, and magazines do you find most helpful?

Scissors Beat Paper

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editing, writing, writing life

One of the fundamental rules of life is that scissors beat paper. Another is that scrolling is a bitch. Put them together, and you have the obvious solution to one of my biggest pet peeves in editing.

Putting a story together when you’re in the early stages can be a lot like putting together a puzzle that’s gotten mixed up with another box. In the beginning, there are bound to be scenes or scraps that don’t fit with the larger picture of the story, and it’s about as likely that other parts will be missing. So what is a writer to do?

Cut the thing up, of course! I started applying scissors to my work in college, on an essay I was writing about the year I spent half of Easter break in the Netherlands and half in Spain. I was having a terrible time trying to balance the parts and figure out how to splice the stories. In a fit of desperation, I printed it out and took a pair of scissors to the thing, and I realized that it was a lot easier to physically shuffle sections of my story around than cut and paste virtually.

The story I’m working on now doesn’t hop between places, but there are a lot of elements going on–a pregnancy, disease, the question of what to do with aging parents, an adult sister with a beloved baby doll, the question of how a family is supposed to come together when all its members begin creating separate lives. Some of it is more front-and-center, some of it may not even get an overt mention, but I believe in the importance of knowing more than you tell. I’m still working on what needs to go in and what needs to stay out, so I’ll be cutting my story up and spreading it over the living room floor.

What are your editing tricks?