Insecure Writer’s Support Group: Priorities

Today, is the first Wednesday of the month and time for Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer’s Support Group, where we hold each other up in the bad and good times of our writing.

When I started seriously blogging in 2010, I did so everyday.  I also read a good two hours worth of blogs everyday. At 5 AM, I was up.

Now, I’m lucky to post once or twice a week and count my blessings when I actually get an hour to check out others’ blogs. To some extent, it really makes me sad and I feel guilty. Yesterday, I got an hour to read and I didn’t even comment on everyone's posts. But I did Tweet and Share. ***shrugs***

I came to the conclusion a while ago that I’m not Wonder Woman. Although for some reason Sweetman seems to think so. Especially now. So I’ve really had to prioritize things in a list every day. And right now, Sweetman is at the top of that list. He needs me more than ever. He’s been going through chemo the last six weeks. And we’ve got six more weeks to go.

Not only that, I’ve got peeps asking when my next book to Lila’s Journey will be out. The novel writing comes second to the Sweetman, guys. My plan this year is to have two novels published by December 2013 along with three short stories, which means less time blogging.

Oh and then there’s the little Glowstick and the Ho-Ho. I have to be there for these two precious grandbabies. There are times I just have to drop everything, including the writing, to be there for these two. Babies take a lot of time and they are both walking, which means they get into everything.

Not only that, Sweetman said the other day, “You’re slipping on the household chores.” I’m pretty sure he’s miserable and anything out of order is probably bugging him more than ever since he has absolutely no control over what is happening to him. He’s also on the extreme side of anal retentive and I’m not.

So guys, I really have to prioritize right now, but I’m still here.

How’s everyone else doing?

Hugs and chocolate,

Shelly

PS I miss participating in the A to Z this year.

Writer's Block v. Constipation

There's not much difference between being constipated, at a loss for pooing, and having writer's block, being at a loss for words. The words to describe both: frustrating and painful.

It irks me when I sit down at my keyboard in front of a blank screen and I can't come up with a darned thing to write. Today, I finished chapter thirty to my novel. I it ended with some mysterious person coming through the door.

As usual I set up my page to chapter thirty-one. You know, header, page number, title, and chapter. And then, without warning my brain stopped. Maybe there's a brick somewhere hidden in the corridors and whatever thoughts I had smashed into it. I don't know.

I tried doodling. Arrows over arrows. Flowers with pretty leaves. Houses with chimneys. Okay, that didn't work. So, I wrote stuff. Stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with my novel. Okay, that didn't work. So, I went for a walk. I walked the dogs. I walked and talked to the dogs about my current dilema. Both of them plopped their butts on the pavement, tilted their heads and raised their ears but they had no clue what to tell me. I didn't have a clue what to tell me.

I go back inside. There I decide to clean my shower and then I clean my entire shower. During this event, I daydreamed about my characters hoping they'd guide me to the answer for my next chapter. Oh my God! Nothing came out. My brain literally hurt.

Read, I say. I'll sit on the great white throne and read. I remind myself that I did have a serving of flax seeds on my quinoa this morning. The bottom half shouldn't be a problem. But nothing comes out at either end.

A revelation happens. Wow! Maybe there is a brain and butt connection. Never know. Maybe this one could be the next great conspiracy theory against all writers. Maybe there should be a discussion on this.

But, I do know this, when they finally flow it's like Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It goes on and on for days. Not necessarily on the same day though.

The Life of a Novice Writer

The life of a novice write is full of dreams. Our stories appear to us as any other best seller on the New York Times list. We can't distinguish between someone else's masterpiece from our own.

Also, admittedly we're a little impatient with the whole process of writing: the writing of the not-so-fun-stuff like the synopsis, the blurb, and the dreaded query letter. Sometimes we are downright lazy. There are so many rules to remember.

It would be easier not to have to go to any classes or critique classes. Why would we do that? After all, we've dubbed ourselves writers, right? And did I mention that our English and Lit teachers in school always gave us rave reviews on what we wrote. This should be good enough knowledge for us to know that we are exceptional in the field of writing, right?

For some reason, we seem to believe that whoever we send our manuscripts to, will worship and adore our work. Why wouldn't they? We do. Oh the treacherous life of the novice writer when receive our manuscripts back Looking as if they've been devoured by some animal. Blood stains filling up the spaces on and in between my intimate expressions of creativity. My poor beloved manuscript. How could they? If only I could throw myself into their den of ravenous wolves to be ravaged like that I would. Only to spare my beloved imagination of those horrid blood stains that come back to me.

If that's not bad enough, we have to put up with our own insecurities and doubts about our own writing. Deep down inside we each have this little whiny, annoying voice in our heads. It races around the same racetrack, telling us "that was a dumb thing to write", "you'll never get published" or "you can't do this, what are you possibly thinking . You are no King or Gresham". Once the racetrack stops, the choir begins. It sings about our doom and gloom as writers.

As a novice writer, I have to do my best to keep the editorial wolves at bay. How do I do this? Dah?

We need to make a promise to ourselves and keep it. Better yet, make a vow to your beloved. You wouldn't go a day without spending quality time with your spouse would you?

Vow to ignore the creepy little voices in your head. Vow to take whatever classes you need to improve your skills. Vow to use your spellcheck. Vow to write everyday even if it starts out gibberish-like. Vow not to be insulted by a publishing company when you get rejected. Vow to keep plugging along. Vow to learn from your mistakes. Vow to join a local critique group.

Last, stay true to your vow like you would your spouse. Cheating is not allowed.