Writer's Boot Camp

I seldom make extreme statements, but here’s one I can make without fear of contradiction: I never keep New Year’s resolutions.

I’ve made them, of course—lots of them—with good intentions and firm resolve, but I’ve never kept at them very long. Yes, I’ve tried starting over. And over. And over. Yet none of those brave restarts have resulted in a permanent change of my life. If you’ve had better success with your resolutions, more power to you (as if you need it), but I confess that I haven’t. Never have.

This is why writing coach Rachel Federman believes we’re not likely to become productive writers through resolutions. It's too easy to be distracted by other important things. Instead we need to go full-bore into writing every day, day after day, like Army recruits in boot camp.

Soldiers in boot camp don’t expect to begin their training when conditions are just right. Conditions in boot camp are far from “just right.” The weather is hot and wet, the mosquitoes and deer flies bite voraciously, and the latrines are better left to your imagination!

These soldiers learn combat skills by engaging in combat all day long. ­­They have no higher priority, though they certainly have plenty of distractions, and we can count on the same. Federman says:

Count on writing when someone’s asking what’s for dinner and jackhammers are pounding away out your window. Count on writing on the back of a stained notepad with a pencil that really needs to be sharpened and is barely showing up. Count on writing when you have company. Counting on writing when you desperately want to crawl under the covers. Count on writing when you are getting nauseous on a bus to Boston. Writing is the way you keep yourself on the path. And that path is more writing…[1]

You may be tempted to say, I’ll buy a copy of Federman’s book and learn more about this“boot camp” idea. Beware: Federman’s book is nearly impossible to find in the USA because it was published in England. 

That’s OK. It’s not the book you need, but the experience of writing. Every day. Every night. For a month. And when you reach the end of that month, you’ll wake the next day hankering to write more. That’s why you go to boot camp.

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[1]Rachel Federman, Writer’s Boot Camp (London: HarperCollins, 2016), 19.

Joe Allison writes both fiction and nonfiction, and has been a member of the Indiana chapter of American Christian Fiction Writers since 2010. He lives in Anderson, IN, with his wife Maribeth and daughter Heather.

Sneaking Off to God

by Rachael Phillips 

How dare He?

 Everyone was looking for Jesus, including desperate people with nasty diseases and nastier demons.  

Yet He had the nerve to sneak off.

Jesus’ fans harassed His disciples, his closest friends, for information. They had no clue where He was.

Duh. How embarrassing.

They discussed the possibility of buying Jesus a cell with better coverage, but declared that idea futile. He’d turn it off, anyway.  

When they finally tracked Him down, Jesus heard a mantra far too familiar to mothers, pastors, doctors—and writers: “Where were you?”

Jesus didn’t attempt to justify His time alone with God. He didn’t worry about how his actions would affect contributions or His marketing statistics. He affirmed the direction God had given Him: “Let us go somewhere else … so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.”

How simple.

How impossible.

As Jesus’ ministry grew, even He, though perfect, found it difficult to spend intimate time with His Father.

C.S. Lewis, who wrote these lines from The Weight of Glory in 1949, echoed that complication: “Even where someone is left physically by himself, the wireless has seen to it that he will be … never less alone than when alone. We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and privacy, and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.”

Why do we, married to our phones, think we should find it easy?

Today I hear the Father’s call. Not an audible one.

More than audible.

I just flushed the afternoon’s to-do list down the toilet.

Unlike Jesus, I don’t always respond to Him with immediacy.

But I feel empty and gooshy as a hollowed-out pumpkin today, a jack-o-lantern smile carved into my face.

My mom has terminal cancer.

I need new direction in my writing.

I must hear from God. I need to touch His hand.

Where can I go?

When a young mother, I sat just inside the open garage doorway where I could keep one eyeball fixed on my toddlers watching Sesame Street. Or I breathed prayers while in the bathroom during the 2.3 seconds before small fists banged on the door and indignant wails shredded my concentration.  

Surely, I can find a place of prayer now. After all, I live near a Christian college with a beautiful prayer chapel that includes small private, glassed-in rooms. I’ve also tucked myself into corners of college libraries, especially during breaks. Lakes, cemeteries, museums, bookstores and nooks in shopping malls during the day can serve as prayer “closets.” One can even pray in a church. (Beware, however, of vacuum-wielding janitors or those who lie in wait in shadowy hallways, recruiting for committees).

Today my destination is a tiny, well-kept though neglected park, with a bench where Jesus and I can sit and hold hands in the fall sunshine.

Where do you sneak off to be with God?        

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

You Don't Need a Cast of Thousands

How many characters do you need in order to tell your story? If you're Hemingway writing The Old Man and the Sea, just two--the elderly fisherman and his trophy. If you're writing "Downton Abbey" or some other intergenerational saga, you need to introduce several dozen people to your readers. Clearly, it depends on the complexity of your plot and the intricacy of your narrative style.

For the sake of clarity and unencumbered pacing, it's best to keep the number of characters to a minimum. By "character," I mean an individual with a distinct name, description, and story role. For example, we may take our readers to a garden party with a hundred or so guests whose raucous laughter and gay apparel contribute to the mood of the evening, yet get acquainted only with our urbane hostess and her scowling maid. We've given readers two new characters and a roomful of party noise. (Trying to keep track of the rest would distract readers, even if we gave everyone name tags!)

So before you introduce a new character into your narrative, ask yourself a few tactical questions such as these:

• Will this person's identity, ideas, or actions move my hero closer to his/her goal?
• Will this person thwart my hero's quest? 
• Will this person's experience give my hero a crucial insight into what he/she must do?
• Will this person "take a bullet" for my hero--pull away someone who otherwise would encumber my hero, or fall victim to a hazard that otherwise might claim my hero?

If all such questions yield a "no," don't introduce the person as an individual character, but let him/her remain in the background. For example:

     "Have I any messages?" Hester asked, stripping her gray flannel gloves.

     The clerk turned to a rank of mailboxes and retrieved a folded half-sheet of stationery with her name hand-lettered on the outside.

     A chill ran down Hester's spine as she scanned its contents. How had Gretchen found her here?

The clerk performs an important function in this scene, but not so important that we need to be introduced. We don't know whether the clerk is male or female, young or old, natty or slovenly...because it doesn't matter. The note's the thing.

I once worked as an "extra" in a crowd scene for a college drama production. The director told us to mill about the stage doing things that a crowd normally would do in the city square, while muttering to one another, "Peas and carrots...Peas and carrots...Peas and carrots..." That way, the audience saw and heard us in the background, but their attention remained fixed on the main characters.

If an individual doesn't really advance your story, don't make that person a character. Let him be a nondescript "extra": No name, no physical characteristics, no inane dialogue--just peas and carrots.

Joe Allison and his wife, Judy, live in Anderson IN, where Joe serves as Coordinator of Publishing for Church of God Ministries, Inc. Joe has several nonfiction books in print, including Swords and Whetstones: A Guide to Christian Bible Study Resources. He's currently writing a trilogy of Christian historical novels set in the Great Depression.

Visit Joe's blog at http://hoosierwriter.wordpress.com

Keeping Your Tiggers and Eeyores in Line

Do you ever hear someone get asked a question and wish they asked you?

This was my case in June, 2005. I sat in a Toastmaster club as area governor elect. (Okay, technically I was appointed. Details, details.) The theme for the meeting was Winnie the Pooh, a theme well used by the Topics Master.

My question was what I would write if I wrote a children's book. That was a fun question. I told them I'd write about an otter raised by a family of beavers. You can imagine what that's like. The otter wants to play while his adoptive parents are getting him to work on the dam. This otter would meet a wolf taken in by a cougar family. “I want to be part of the pack.” “What pack? We aren't a pack.”

However, when I heard the next question, I wished I had gotten that one instead.

“You are Winnie the Pooh. You've been given a free counseling session. Now, you're well adjusted and don't need it. Will you give it to Tigger to help calm him down? Or to Eeyore to cheer him up?”

I was about nine when Disney's Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day came out, which introduced Tigger. I fell in love with Tigger. I wanted to be as bouncy and fun as he was.

Growing up, though, I found my companion and mentor to be gloomy old Eeyore. “It will fall off again,” he said when his tail was put back on him. “Always does.”

If I wrote this blog yesterday, I would have dealt with a topic that interested me, one that would give food for thought. But this has been an Eeyore week for me. Just this week? Maybe all of this year. (Fortunately, we're only half way through January; hope this isn't a trend.)

My Eeyore side has been given plenty to be gloomy about. My wife's dealing with health problems. The only presidential candidate I could be excited about finished 6^th in Iowa and dropped out. My Amazon review of that candidate's auto-biography has the current line “1 out of 6 find this review helpful.” (My hunch is that the five who found that not helpful did so solely because I gave a five star review to a book they disagreed with, but still it's discouraging.)

Also, I received a rejection letter (okay, e-mail) from an agent who kindly mentions my characters and plot don't resonate with him. Not much to encourage me to write, something I've been struggling to find time to do. To be honest, I'm even wondering if writing is what I'm supposed to be doing.

Did the person who got the counseling question think Eeyore was the one who needed counseling? No, she thought it was Tigger who was too hyper. I can identify. Sometimes, my Tigger tries to compensate for the Eeyore. Time to get bouncy. Find other activities. Keep busy, busy, busy, so I don't have time to be gloomy, gloomy, gloomy.

So how would I have answered the question?

Simple. I would have given the counseling to neither of them. Rather, I'd get them Tigger and Eeyore to counsel each other. Have Eeyore kindly mellow out Tigger, while Tigger gives Eeyore something to be cheerful about.

That's one thing good about the ACFW meetings or critique groups. We can point out areas of improvement but give encouragement at the same time. (This is one of Toastmaster's strengths, by the way.)

And the counseling session? I'd give that to grouchy Rabbit.

The Angst Project

My book club is reading The Happiness Project, in which the author journals her month-by-month progress in nailing down attitudes and habits that will give her a better appreciation for the happiness she already has. You know, a beautiful house … but it’s cluttered. A wonderful husband … but she nags him. Good health … but she’s always tired. And so on.

I’m only a few chapters in, but I’m salivating over her to-do lists and am tempted to carbon copy her journey. My bookclubmates, however, are muttering vague, disparaging remarks, and their chins are drool dry. Since I’m not as far along in the book as they are, I figure either the author goes where no sane woman would dare to go, or my mates simply aren’t devout to-do-listers. Whatever, I know better than to get caught up. I’m a good beginner but a poor continuer. Every month I throw away my to-do list and start over.

Nevertheless, I like the concept of dealing with obstacles that are … well, stupid. Stupid that they’re hindrances, stupid that I allow them, stupid that they even exist in the first place. In particular, I’m thinking of why I let myself get distracted from writing. Last week I had two whole days—TWO WHOLE DAYS!—free to write, with no one and nothing to divert my attention. And what did I do? Yep, wasted time with distractions.

So I did a bit of analysis and came up with the fact that I let myself get distracted because I’m anxious. Is my writing good enough? Will I show not tell? Get the scene goal expressed? Tilt the tension up? Draw the reader in? Avoid my fav expressions? Get my MRUs straight? Reach a dark moment? Remember to have a sequel?

The more I learn about writing, the more my angst increases.

Remember when writing used to be fun?

But I can’t go back. I don’t want to go back. I actually do love making progress, painful as it is.

So I’ve started my own little project. The Angst Project. What attitudes and actions will help reduce my anxiety and up my productivity? So far I’ve come up with five.

1.     Work on more than one writing project at a time. I have four—two fiction and two non-fiction. When I slave over just one of them, my angst is high and distraction operates at peak level. Now I select at least two projects and commit to them for the day. I don’t know why, but spreading out the angst reduces my stress. I don’t need distractions. Only coffee. And chocolate.

2.      Allot a minimum of an hour to each project. Progress on one encourages progress on another, which stimulates a can-do attitude that keeps me energized.

3.     Feel free to jump back and forth between projects. No biting the bullet to get one project out of the way, only to end up with high angst over the remaining project.

4.     If a project starts to roll, go for it! Where there’s no angst, there’s no need for restraint.

5.     Have a planned, profitable distraction ready to go. Laundry, a few bills to write, a sink full of dirty dishes—something to fuss over if my distraction-addiction needs feeding. Something good that needs to get done, but that I’m glad to set aside as soon as I can.

So, I’m curious … do you know why you let yourself get distracted?

by Steph Prichard