Freeing Yourself To Write

I have an idea for a story.

No you don't.

Um...yes, I do. It's a good idea. It's different than anything I've ever read.

That's just because you haven't read crap. This story's been written before, many times, by authors much more talented than you.

But I'm going to put a new spin on it.

What, the "I've never published anything" spin? I'm sure that will revolutionize the genre.

Well...even if it's been done before, since I haven't read it that probably means there are plenty of  others that haven't read it either. If nothing else, it should be fun to write because it's a good idea.

Yeah...about that...

What?

Is it really a good idea?

Sure! It has action, interesting characters, and tons of conflict.

And a giant plot hole in the middle that you have no idea how to fill. 

Yeah, but I'll figure that out as I write.

And a two dimensional bad guy who seems to be bad just for the sake of being bad. Come on, you read three blog posts last week about how much people hate that.

Ok, I'll give him some back story.

And all of a sudden your short story turns into a novella. You've only read a hand-full of novellas and you've written...how many?

A few...

Seriously?

Ok, zero. But that doesn't matter. I've got to start somewhere. If the idea pans out it could even turn into a novel.

And when are you going to have the time to write said novel, hmm? You barely have time to squeeze in one or two short stories a month, let alone a novel. Even then writing takes more time away from family and friends than you want it to. 

You may have a point...

Of course I do. Just set the idea aside for now. You can always come back to it when you have more time. It will be a better story in the end for having the time to mull it over.

That's probably true.

I had an idea for a story.
___________________________

Sometimes my greatest barrier to writing is me. I don't consider myself a particularly negative person and I'm not prone to over-thinking things but that doesn't mean I don't get in my own way FAR too often.

And just to be clear, grilling yourself about whether a story is worth writing isn't always a bad thing. None of us have a lot of spare time so it's important that we scrutinize our ideas so that we can prioritize our projects and not go on too many time wasting wild goose chases.

Asking questions is good but over thinking is bad. It can shut down creativity and take the fun out of writing.

So what do I do about it?

I give myself permission to screw up. 

I've found that, for me, it's best to let the questions come. I'll let myself fret and worry for a little bit and then I'll say something like this:

"Ok, that's enough. I want to write this story. It's ok if it isn't original. It's ok if the characters aren't perfect. It's ok if I never finish. Maybe the story will suck. Or maybe, just maybe it will turn out good. Or even great. Either way, I'm going to write because that's what I love to do and, regardless of the outcome, I will be happy."


And that's the truth. I've written a ton of crappy stories, things that will never see the light of day, but that's not important. The important thing is that I enjoyed writing them. I like writing and it's ok if every story doesn't turn out. I write because it's fun.

How many times have you had a similar internal dialog? What approach do you take to push past the questions?

Ten Reasons Writing Rocks!

I know that some of you are lucky enough (or crazy enough) to be professional writers. In other words, writing is your only source of income. It's your day job.

You are awesome.

For the rest of us, writing can probably be best categorized as a hobby. "Hobby" is kind of a funny term. It brings to mind geeky little boys building model cars and old ladies in red hats scrapbooking. Both of these activities are fine but I don't feel they garner the passion and dedication that many of us have for writing. And since I'm sure as hell not making any money writing, I think that it does classify as a hobby.

But what a hobby! Writing is the best damn hobby since sniffing markers! Don't believe me? Here's ten reasons why writing is the best damn hobby in the world!

1. You can do it anywhere. Stuck waiting at the DMV? No problem. Just whip out your laptop and you're crafting the next great American novel. Don't like the DMV? Then teleport your ass to a tropical dessert island. In between messages and mai tais you can whip out our notebook and *BOOM* you are writing my friend. How cool is that?
2. It's cheap. Sure I'd love to get into scuba diving or hang gliding but dropping a couple grand on equipment means I'm not eating for the next couple months. And I like eating. If you're reading this then you have a computer. That means you have everything you need to write a funny poem you never show anyone or a manuscript destined for a six-figure book deal.
3. You don't need to be in shape. Seriously, if you're too fat to write then you're probably not going to survive the next 24-hours anyway.
4. It's tough to get killed writing. I've never heard anyone say, "It's sad that he's gone but hey, he knew the risks of writing."
5. Writing inspires. Between the job, the kids, your asshole neighbor, bill collectors, and bad sitcoms, it can be tough to maintain any level of creativity. But if modern life sucks the creativity out of you then writing can put it back.
6. You're never too old (or to young) to write. Isaac Asimov published works in multiple genres up to (and past) his death at 72 years old and a 12 year old girl in Michigan just published her first novel. If you've got the whit and the grit, you can write.
7. It sure as hell beats scrapbooking. Seriously, nobody wants to see your vacation pictures, no matter how fancy you cut the construction paper.
8. You can do it high or drunk. I'm not recommending either and personally, I think my writing would tank if I tried it, but it can be done. Some writers make a career out of it.
9. Social or no. Writing can be as social an activity as you want it to be. Want to live in a shack out in the woods living of mushrooms and raccoon meat? Fine. Want to administer three blogs, a facebook page, a twitter account, attend conferences, host writing workshops, and enter into a polygamous relationship with four other writers? Go nuts.
10. Writing leaves a legacy. Unless your family burns all your worldly belongings upon your demise, chances are you will leave some of your thoughts, feelings, and creativity behind in what you wrote. That's pretty cool.

Got any more? What did I miss?

Are You Out of the Writing Closet?

"You're a writer?"

I get that a lot. I guess I don't put out writerly vibes or something. I think that most people have a pretty defined stereotype of what a writer is supposed to look and act like. You know, skinny, white, glasses, kinda homely, kinda geeky, sorta brooding, kinda like the stereotypical accountant with an artistic flare. I'm not those (except for the white part but hey, nobody's perfect). In fact, if you look across the writing blogosphere, it's tough to find writers that fit that description. Side note: Am I the only one who's noticed how good looking many writer-bloggers are? And literary agents too!  

The thing is, I like the idea of being recognized as a writer. I don't mean that I want people to run up to me at the mall and beg me to sign their tan lines. I just want "writer" to be one of the categories people assign to me.

Adam Gaylord: devoted husband, wildlife biologist, loyal friend, binge drinker, writer.

It's one of the main reasons I write. Is the desire for recognition enough to inspire a publishable manuscript?

No.

Is it enough to motivate me to keep learning the trade, stick with it long term, and devote the time that it will take to inspire a publishable manuscript?

Maybe. Only time will tell. I hope so.

Give what I've just told you, you might suspect that I run around yelling at every person I meet that I'm a writer as I beat them into submission with a copy of my manuscript. Not true. Some of my friends and a few family members know that I write. Most don't. I think only one or two know that I blog (Hi Luciano!).

I'm trying to be a little more open about my writing but the fact is that for a long time, writing was a closet activity for me. I kept my writing to myself and nobody new about it. And I think that I would have preferred a Barbra Streisand concert (aka torture) to actually letting anyone read anything I wrote.

The thing about closets is that they're lonely. It's hard to improve you craft without feedback. It's tuff to maintain direction without encouragement. It can be done but I don't want to be the one to do it.

I'm out of the writing closet.

I AM A WRITER!!!

How about you? Are you out of the writing closet?

Reasons Writing Is Bit Like Cooking: Part One

Back in March I posted about why writing is a bit like working out. It's a good post (IMHO) and I like it.

The thing is, I don't love to work out. It's ok. It helps me keep my girlish figure. But the main reason I go to the gym is to support my true love and addiction: FOOD!

I love food. I love to eat. I love to buy food. I love the Food Network. I LOVE FOOD!

And I also love to cook. There is no better way to wind down from a long day than to crack open a beer (another thing I LOVE), bust out some pots and pans, and get to cookin'. My specialties include pad thai, vegi burritos, stuffed cheese burgers, fried sage winter squash soup, spaghetti squash and grueyere, pumpkin roll, and my award winning key lime pie. Mmmmmmm...

I love to cook so I think about it a lot. Because of this I've noticed some definite parallels between cooking and something else I love to do and ponder: writing.

I started out intending to post five reasons why writing is like cooking but I kept coming up with more. Instead of doing an insanely long post, I'm going to make it into a three part post.

So without further ado, here are my first three reasons that writing is a bit like cooking:

1. Ingredients Matter: I love the TV show Chopped. If you haven't seen it, basically it's the cooking version of MacGyver. World-class chefs are given baskets filled with crazy ingredients and instructed to make world-class meals. Stuff like "You have 20 minutes to make an appetizer using pig testicles, licorice candy, shoe leather, and some fruit as yet undescribed by science." Seriously crazy stuff. And sometimes they fail. Even though these are very talented cooks with years of experience under their belt, sometimes their dishes turn out terrible. The moral of the story: it's a lot easier to make a quality product if you use quality ingredients. The same goes for writing. We all know the basic ingredients of a good story but just being aware of them isn't enough. You have to get intimate with these ingredients (bow chika bow wow). You have to practice with them. Use fresh plot lines instead of dried out cliches. Avoid bland at all costs. Spice things up! Bring in outside influences and expand your boundaries. Use high quality ingredients.     
2. Timing Matters: Good cooks manage time well. You can't start your scallops 45 minutes before it's time to serve or they'll have the texture of a Goodyear tire. If that rice doesn't have enough time to cook your guests will need dental work. Cooking a quality meal means starting things at the appropriate times, giving them the time they need (and not a second more), and then picking the right time to finish. Sound familiar? A common writing mistake (I know I've been guilty of this one) is starting a story at the wrong point. Knowing when to start can be just as important as knowing when to finish (which is also super important). A good writer needs to manage the timing of his/her story so that everything starts at the right time, is given the proper amount of time, no more, no less, and finishes when it should.
3. You Will Make Mistakes: The first time I cooked on my own I was seven. I woke up early one Saturday morning planning to make my parents pancakes. They came out golden brown and fluffy, just like good pancakes should. So why did my dad look like a penguin regurgitating food for its young? Simple, I used baking soda instead of baking powder. And I used extra. So basically I made salt cakes. My mom and dad assured me that they weren't that bad, added more syrup, and ate them with a smile. What good parents. They're lucky the extreme sodium content didn't result in an instant heart attack. "Boy kills parents with pancakes!" Anyway, the point is that everyone make mistakes when cooking and when writing. My first writing efforts were probably even worse than those pancakes. But if you love it then you stick with it. And you get better. And you add bananas and walnuts to your pancakes. 

Mmmmmmm....pancakes.

A Touch of Optimism: Remember Why You Write

I'm usually a pretty positive person.

I'm not saying I'm a perky, bubbly, rainbow-unicorn type of person,

I'm more of a "things may be $&^#y but they'll turn out all right in the end" kind of guy.

That being said, I've been in a little bit of a funk lately. I think it happens to most writers at one time or another. I don't know whether it's the Oregon weather (IT RAINS ALL THE DAMN TIME!!!!) or what; I've just been unable to shake the dark clouds of pessimism that rain thoughts like "I'll never get published" and "My story's not very good" and "Am I wasting my time?" into my feeble little mind.

So I was all ready to write a post today about dealing with doubt and how to pick yourself out of a funk BUT...I find that my pessimism has lifted. Want to know what did it?

I went and saw "Wrath of the Titans" in 3D last night.

I know what you're thinking but stay with me. I'm not saying this was a life changing cinematic masterpiece. This movie features questionable acting, a shaking plot, and way too much reliance on special effect. That being said, it was exactly what I had been hoping for. IT WAS FUN! It was an entertaining and enjoyable night at the movies. There was plenty of action with great battle scenes and the characters had just enough depth that you could relate with them and care about them. The thing is, that's pretty much what I want my story to be.

All I've ever wanted from my writing is to create something that I enjoy and that I think others will too. I don't want to change the world. I don't want to define the genre. I want to write stories that I enjoy writing and that an audience will enjoy reading. I want to write fun books. With all of the pressure I've been putting on myself I think I forgot that a little.

So when you get in a funk and the clouds of pessimism are gathering, remember why you write. Remember what you enjoy about writing and why you care so much.

And maybe go see a movie.

Unlikely Inspiration: The Bottom of the Barrel

I have read some amazing books in my life. Tolkien, Rowling, Herbert, McCaffery, Rawn, and Asimov have fueled my love of fantasy and science fiction. Old classics like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and new classics like The Art of Racing in the Rain and The Kite Runner have left me spellbound and hungering for more. There are so many great books and talented writers in this world and I will never have enough time to read everything that I want to.

But I have a confession: Great writing and great writers are not what first inspired me to write.  

Great books inspire me to read.

What first inspired me to write was an urban-fantasy paperback I bought at a used book store. I actually don't remember book's title or author (20 minute google searching didn't help) and I guess it really doesn't matter. The story line was disjointed, the characters were shallow, and the climax frustratingly ridiculous (some previously un-introduced character shows up and whisks the distressed main character away to another dimension). In short, it was the worst book I've ever read.

BUT I DID READ IT.

Not only did I read it but since I bought it at a used bookstore, presumably at least one other person also read it. The fact that this book had not only been published but actually purchased and read by at least 2 people completely blew my mind. I'm not trying to be negative or judgmental but the simple fact of the matter is that when I read that book I said to myself, "I can do better than this. If this book can get published and read, then I can get published and read."

I started writing shortly thereafter. It turns out that I love to write and that it's something I hope to do the rest of my life. And I owe that initial push that inspired me to a book that I hated.

What's my point?

It doesn't matter what inspires you as long as your inspired. Take your motivation in any form it may come it. Welcome it. Use it. Build on it.

And get writing!

I Have an Old Rusty Nut

I have an old nut on my desk at work. My office is scattered with odd little trinkets that biologists tend to pick up in the field: antlers, leaves, sharks teeth, golf balls, etc. This nut is different. It’s a metal nut (as in “nuts and bolts”) that’s bigger than any nut you’ll ever see at your local hardware store. It’s bigger than a golf ball and probably weighs as much as a tennis shoe. It’s also quite old. It’s faded, worn, and rusted. It’s pitted, gouged, and the thread is completely stripped away. And for me, it is a constant source of inspiration.

To understand why, you need to know where the nut came from. I guess I don’t exactly know its origin; some smelter somewhere I suppose. Where it crossed my path was in Idaho. I stole it from a former place of employment on my last day there. I’m sure nobody missed it; the floor was littered with them. That same floor was also cover with tobacco spit, wood chips, glue, dirt, sweat, blood, long metal bolts, and heavy metal bracers. It was, and I suppose still is, the floor of a beam plant.

I’m not fond of sharing how I ended up at the beam plant so let’s just leave it that I was there. A beam plant is, as the name implies, a plant where they manufacture wooden beams to be used in building construction. The whole process works down a long conveyor belt. Boards come in one end of the building, are cut and planed down to certain sizes in the prep room then sent on down the conveyor belt to the glue room to be glued and dried to make beams of specific dimensions. The beams then go on down the conveyor to be planed again and sanded and eventually shipped out the other end of the long building. The manufacturing process is labor intensive and dangerous, no more so than in the glue room. As a result, the glue room has a relatively high turn-over rate. Consequently, that’s where I was hired to work.

The glue room consists of the long conveyor belt down the center of the room leading from prep and moving on to the sanding area. Spaced evenly along both sides of the belt are large metal frames shaped like 6’ tall L’s standing up off the floor. As each individual board enters the room from prep, it passes through a machine that coats the top side of the board with thick, hot, foul-smelling glue. The glue is made with formaldehyde and its fumes cause headaches and eye irritation in new workers. Some workers are unfortunate enough to react badly to contact with the glue, breaking out in rashes on any exposed areas of skin. Getting the glue off at the end of the day involves copious amounts of soap and scrubbing, usually leaving you pink and raw.

A man (and I’m not being sexist, no women work in the glue room) standing just in front of the glue machine (to the side of the conveyor belt) known as the “thrower”, grabs each board as it comes whizzing out from the glue machine at high speed. The thrower then whips the board, each of which may be up to 60’ long and weigh nearly 100 lbs, off the side of the conveyor belt and down steep metal ramps to rest in the L shaped frames. If the thrower gets his fingers between two boards as they come out of the glue machine, they will likely be crushed.

On the L-frames, a man known as the “stander” has seconds to stand the board up so that the glued top of the board will rest evenly against the unglued bottom of the adjacent board. He uses a specially shaped hammer to pound and wrestle the board into place. The boards whip down the ramps and slam into the frame. If the stander doesn’t move quickly enough when grabbing the boards to stand them up, his fingers will likely be smashed and broken.

Layer after layer of glued boars is stacked into the L’s. In between each layer, 2 or 3 men working behind the L’s lay long heavy metal bolts that hang from racks on the walls. As each layer is completed, the bolts are run up with powerful pneumatic wrenches using heavy metal bracers (known as irons) and large nuts to squeeze the glued boards together to dry. If the man running up the bolts mistakenly holds an iron with his fingers between the iron and the wood as the bolt is being tightened by the pneumatic wrench, the worker will probably loose the fingers. Any misstep can send the long metal bolts teetering from the racks down onto the workers.

As the stacks of glued boards grow higher, the workers must climb higher on the stacks to stand the boards and lay the bolts. The stacks routinely top 6-7’ and the hot glue is slippery making falls not an uncommon occurrence. Tall stacks also bring the workers closer and closer to the dozen large heaters that keep the glue room at a minimum 96 degrees for the purpose of drying the glue as fast as possible. When working on the top of the stack, being so close to the heaters can raise air temperatures well over 100 degrees.

The glue is allowed to dry until the next shift at which point the newly formed beams are hoisted back onto the conveyor using pneumatic lifts. The beams can weigh hundreds of pounds and the lifts must be raised and lowered in unison so as not to upset them. If upset, the beams can fall off the lifts and crash down the ramps right back at the workers.

I personally witnessed a number of accidents, most minor, some major. Every-day injuries included banged-up knees and shins from irons, boards or bolts, banged-up and smashed fingers, splinters of every variety, dehydration, heat stress, slips, scrapes, and falls. I experienced all of that myself. My wife was always pulling slivers of wood out of my battered shins. I was also one of the unfortunate few that reacted badly to the glue, breaking out in painful and itchy rashes on my arms. I very nearly lost some fingers while running up a bolt but was saved that fate by an alert coworker (to whom I am still grateful). I was lucky however, to avoid the more serious injuries that I witnessed.

In my 6 months in the glue room at the beam plant, I knew of or witnessed a number of broken fingers and toes, several lost fingers, and a chainsaw that kicked back and cut a whole big enough to hide a softball in a coworker’s torso. There was a guy on a different shift that fell off the stack and broke his pelvis. The worst injury involved a guy I worked with that was bent backwards over the conveyor by a large beam. He broke his back and lost most of his spleen. There has been one reported death at the plant that I know of but that was before my time. And while I was employed there, we received a safety award from OSHA; now that’s irony.

The guys I worked with were, strangely enough, a bit of a bright spot. They were all crude, some racist, some bigots, most sexist, some addicts, and some worse. But for the most part they were good guys doing hard, honest work. They treated each other like shit, but that was just part of the deal.

The take home message of this long-winded tutorial is that this place was pretty much hell. It was hot, smelly, and dangerous. I lost 25 lbs during my time there just because of the intensity of the labor (and I was skinny to begin with). I slowly got tired of pain. Few people, myself included, enjoy pain but to be exposed to it so regularly that you actually get physically tired of it is something else completely. I reworded Grateful Dead songs so that the lyrics talked about escaping from my beam plant hell. I hated that place. And today, I wouldn’t give my time there back for anything.

I think that one of the main reasons people become unhappy, especially here in the US, is that they don’t realize how good they have it. Find two couples that have been together about the same length of time, one that has gone through some real rough times and one that hasn’t. The couple who’s always been happy will most likely be bickering about every little thing that comes up. The couple who’s been through hell and come out the other side knows not to sweat the small stuff.

That’s what QB did for me. The nut on my desk has been worn down from a shiny brand-new piece of industry to a rusted and broken paperweight. I keep it on my desk to remind me how good I have it. I could easily be in a place that would wear me down; that would break me. Instead I’m in a good place doing something I enjoy. This may be a little melodramatic, but maybe you have to go through hell to appreciate heaven.