Something I Need to Fix

I always seem to be tired when I sit down to write on my off-days. That makes the writing not so much fun.

I think now that I've been writing every day for almost a month, I'm going to suspend the daily blogging. Tiny posts that say nothing except "Yep, I wrote today" are not so fun either. I still have lots to say about the writing process, but I'm not taking the time to say it. So I'll try to work on some longer, meatier posts for next week.

I did update the progress bar on the right side of the page, so you can track me that way :-)

Estimates

I'm far enough into the fourth draft that I think I can reasonably estimate my output for the summer, so ... my goal is to finish the fourth draft by August 31. That means writing about four hours on "writing days" (Monday to Wednesday) and 15 minutes to an hour on non-writing days.

And! I've chosen a kick-ass reward for myself if I make it. Which I'll announce once plans are finalized :-)

Bliss

I had a truly lovely time on my writing retreat. I worked like crazy (didn't even take the canoe out or take a walk!) Susan and I ate very well (my favourite was the mustard-crusted salmon with roasted green beans).

I did six hours on Monday and Tuesday, and four hours Wednesday. Surprising how hard I can work when I've done some prep work and don't have any distractions.

I dashed off 15 minutes tonight too. So I think I have a plan for the summer.

Retreating

I'm so excited. Tomorrow I go away to a friend's cottage for three days, for some uninterrupted writing time. I have my poet-friend Susan for company (everyone should have a poet-friend, no?). I have been on my feet for the last three hours, prepping food for myself as well as Shawn and Lia, but it will pay off when I don't have to cook for THREE DAYS :-)

So I won't be posting while I'm away. Here's to quiet hours of work by the lake, the bliss of sleeping in, and no Internet!

The Streak Continues

I spent all day in the sun, half an eye on Lia and half on the Ultimate field where Shawn was playing in the No Borders tournament (his team, GLUM, went 4-0!) So now I'm tired and a little sunburned, and heading out to another friend's birthday party. But I've got this streak going, 18 days of writing and blogging every day. That's pretty strong incentive, so I sat down at the computer and banged out my 15 minutes.

A note about comments. I usually have comments turned off for these entries, unless I am asking a question or looking for feedback. That's partly to minimize comment spam, and partly because I get a bit spooked by comments when I'm writing about my personal process. What Keri Smith wrote on the Wish Jar Journal about comments resonates for me:

while I miss the instant feedback from readers and the sense of having a community, on the whole I feel much more empowered by just throwing things out into the void, without the addictive tendency of checking to see how it was received by others, judging a post by how many comments it receives. in some ways it makes my offering more honest, and brought me back to what it felt like in the beginning. just a place to share my thoughts and ideas, no need to measure it against what others are doing ....

However, I do like getting comments by email. So if you have something to share, feel free to drop me a line: the address is at the bottom of the page there.

So thanks to Rita and my mom for tips on watermelon stain removal, and also to Heather. I am glad to know that people are reading and enjoying.

Now just for fun, here's Feist performing on Sesame Street. Lia watched this a zillion times yesterday.

Writing Done for the Day

That is all.

Post-poned

I have a post brewing in my head about winning the day and the voices in my head, but it will have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say I did 15 min on Chapter 1 during naptime today.

Lia was delectably sweet today, from this morning in bed when she hid under the blankets and then shouted, "Here I yam!", to searching for Yo-Yo while declaring, "My love him!", to telling everyone "Jeffrey help Lia" after a boy at playgroup helped her get up when she had fallen and was crying. I might moan about writing time but I treasure every second I spend with this little girl, because I know it will pass all too quickly.

Regrouping

I took a step back this morning to get myself together. With all the delay about starting my writing sabbatical, I never took the time to get properly grounded, just jumped in and tried to force things ahead. That nagging voice that always says, YOU'RE BEHIND! QUICK, CATCH UP! That voice makes me anxious and panicky. It does not help me get more writing done.

There's another voice (I swear, it gets pretty crowded in my brain) that asks me each night, "Did you finish your book today?" and when I say No, it yells, YOU FAILED! YOUR DAY WAS A WASTE.

Setting goals for me is a double-edged sword. They can work fantastically if they're possible but require a bit of a stretch, like NaNoWriMo. But a lot of times I set unrealistic goals and then lapse into lethargy when I see I can't ever meet them.

I think it's too early to set a goal of how much I want to write by the end of the summer. I want to avoid setting myself up for disappointment, but also don't want to set the bar so low that I'm not motivated or mobilized by an ambitious target.

Getting grounded meant going back to my journal, thinking about what direction feels good. One thing I realized is that, while the writing is important, another intention of mine is to set up some good habits that will carry through, things like journalling and writing and blogging every day, exercising and eating well. That takes energy too, and it's a good investment.

Being grounded also means connecting with God, my creative source. I know I'm there when the anxious, panicky feeling slides away, and I feel peaceful and loved and enough in this moment.

I find it embarrassing to blog about this. To admit I'm not a writing machine who can just whip off the pages once I have the time. But this is where I'm at.

I'm going to try blogging earlier in the day. I find I put it off until late at night, hoping I will have more accomplishments to report.

What Did I Do All Day?

6:00 am: Turn off alarm clock.
7:00 am: Get out of bed in response to shouts of "Mom! Mom!" from the crib downstairs
7:00 - 7:20 am: Snuggle in bed with Lia
7:20 - 8:15 am: Breakfast, get Lia dressed
8:15 - 9:00 am: Exercise and shower
9:00 - 9:15 am: Watch Act One of Dr. Horrible
9:15 - 9:30 am: Read stories for writing group
9:30 - 10:30 am: Nap
10:30 - 11:30 am: Organize schedule and send email
11:30 - 12:45: Write
12:45 - 2:00: Errands and grocery shopping
2:00 - 3:30 pm:
3:30 - 4:30 pm: Dinner prep
4:30 - 5:30 pm: Pick up Lia from daycare, get produce box from CSA
5:30 - 6:30 pm: Dinner
6:30 - 7:00 pm: Watch "Signing Time Alex Leah"
7:00 - 7:30 pm: Put Lia to bed
7:30 - 10:30 pm: Dishes, food prep, putting away produce, reading Nim Chimpsky: The Chimp Who Would Be Human
10:30 - 11:00 pm: Blog

Huh. That was actually quite informative.

This Is More Like It

The house was mostly clean, the laundry was mostly done, and dinner was in the Crock-Pot at 9 am. So that made for a mellow day. I did have a hard time getting started, spent most of the morning cleaning up the study, but then I steeled myself and broke the ice with the first chapter of what is officially known as the fourth draft. The revising was actually rather pleasant.

I do need to rein in my Internet use, though. If I'm not careful, my scrupulously hoarded writing days (and nights) will disappear down the drain of Metafilter and kottke.org. Last week I installed a utility called Rescue Time that tracks the amount of time you spend using applications and visiting websites. It's really good for accountability; I just have to be strict with myself about turning it on. Blogging regularly has helped too; after lunch I thought, I'd better start writing or I'll have nothing to report. So thanks for reading.

Why Watermelon is the Bane of My Existence

Lia adores eating watermelon. She is very vocal about her pleasure as she sinks her teeth into a big juicy piece. "Wadder-melon! More, more, more. Big one!" She can eat a chunk the size of her head in one sitting.

But I can't get the *&$*@^ stuff out of her clothes! I've resorting to making her strip down to her diaper before she settles in for a feed. Which she loves even more. "My be naked!" she crows.

That has nothing to do with writing, it's just what was on my mind as I was doing laundry tonight. I've tried boiling water, Oxy Clean, colour-safe bleach ... tomorrow I'm going to lay things out in the sun (if we get any) and see if the UV rays will do the trick.

[Edited to add: my dad sent me a link to this video of Silvan Zingg playing Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man" ... a "way better version" of watermelon!]

Tonight my dad called and we chatted about my novel (I later wrote up what we talked about in my Notes file, that's my 15 minutes for today). He advised me not to stray too far from my vision for the book in an effort to please all of my manuscript readers. Wise advice.

Overhaul

The weather was beautiful today so we hitched up the bike trailer and rode out to Britannia Beach. 1.5 hours of thinking time in the saddle, mulling over what needs to be done with the novel. After going over the manuscript comments from my readers (finished the last 15 min tonight), I can see that almost every section will need to be revisited.

So my next task will be to re-read the manuscript myself, making notes about what to change or add, and also to journal about some of the suggestions that were made--I have a Word document called "Notes" where I toss around ideas and try to come up with answers and decisions on various issues.

I'm getting the feeling that this draft is an overhaul, rather than a quick tune-up. I don't think I'll know how much work is involved or how long it will take until I'm deep into it. Will six weeks be enough?

Why Schedules are Scary

Just finished another half an hour of reviewing reader feedback. (On Thursdays and Fridays I have Lia at home with me. Today she was in a devilish mood, so I needed a nap to keep up with her. That meant no writing time until after she went to bed.)

In the wake of inadvertently deleting my datebook, I'm been mulling over the challenges of scheduling. It goes back to one of my most deeply held fears, which is "Oh, no! I don't have enough time to write!"

[In her book, Steering by Starlight, Martha Beck talks about these "lizard brain" fears that plague us, fears of lack and attack, very primitive and irrational. There's a great post about lizard brain at Martha's blog, called Do you and your lizard live in a van down by the river? I find it really interesting that I'm not remotely afraid of running out of money and becoming a bag lady, but I'm deathly scared of dying without ever finishing another book.]

So, having unearthed this fear of not enough time to write, I have a better understanding of why I feel panicky when people ask me to do something. I get this deer-in-headlights frozen feeling, even if someone is just wanting to get together for lunch or coffee. And I realized it's because I'm hearing "Give me some of your precious alone-time! Give up your writing for me!" and also "Prove that you love me and that you're a good person." No wonder I feel frozen, because my inner self is having a tug-of-war between my desire to write, and my desire to be perceived as good and loving.

Notice in this scenario that I'm not giving much thought to whether I actually want to do whatever I'm being asked to do. I might or I might not, but that desire becomes irrelevant when I'm locked in a struggle between my artist and my saint.

So how do I turn off that panic reflex, or at least dampen it a bit? 1) Tune in to my body and my intuition first, to determine whether I actually want to do what I'm being asked to do. 2) Question the belief that I don't have enough time to write. And also the belief that if I say no, I'm a bad person and people will think I don't love them.

So I have some homework to do ...

Naptime

During Lia's naptime I read over the comments I got from my third-draft readers, and started copying them into the manuscript. I was tired enough to nap too, but I knew it was the only time in my day to work on the novel, so I cajoled myself into staying up. It was only 45 minutes or so, but getting back into the book was like sinking into a hot bath. Like everything was right with the world. I wish I could have stayed there.

Clearing My Calendar

A bit of a scare this morning: I haven't backed up my Palm Pilot in almost two years, and the computer I used to sync with was reformatted last summer. In attempting a fresh sync with a new computer, I discovered that my handheld data was getting wiped out--but luckily I canceled the sync in time so that I only lost my datebook info. That meant I spent the rest of the day manually typing out the 6500 words of the novel that I recently wrote on the Palm. I'm breathing easier now that I have all that work backed up and printed just in case.

It felt like a disappointing day because of the Palm troubles and the time spent typing without getting further ahead. Although, I had a good review of the material I've got, and now I'm mulling over what to do with it. I'm relieved to have the first day of "writing" finished, since it's never as perfect as one would like it to be: too much build-up and anticipation.

I like the symbolism of literally having "cleared my calendar." Every day is blank from now until 2018. As I add appointments and events back in, it will let me think about whether I really want them there.

First Day Postponed

Today was spent tying up loose ends: contract work and church stuff that took most of the day and some of the evening. During the few hours I had free, I took a nap, which felt very indulgent and was what I needed most (as you can tell from these blog entries, I've been getting to bed quite late most nights).

So tomorrow will be the first official writing day. None too soon, because I've hit the end of my ability to write little 15 minute bits on the novel. I need some time to read things over, make some notes and figure out what this scene needs.

This morning I put on my jade bracelet, bought in China when we were there to adopt our daughter. I don't usually wear it, but I've decided to keep it on for the summer, as a physical reminder of my intention to write. It's much nicer than a rubber band :-)

And now, to bed.

Perfection Satisfaction Promise

Today was my last day of work for the summer. I wish I could have finished off tidily on a Friday, but it was not to be. Now I must resist the temptation to pout because my first "writing week," which was supposed to be Perfection Satisfaction Promise*, has now been sullied by work and some other commitments. Instead, I am going to take my own advice about first days and do something nice for myself tomorrow.

I am becoming dissatisfied with the 15 minute writing increments. A good sign. I'm not necessarily trying to trick myself into writing longer; it's more like getting warmed up, loosening the imagination, so that when I have larger blocks of time I'll be chomping at the bit.

*The name of a vegetarian restaurant in Ottawa. Has nothing to do with this post, but I like the name.

Busy = Constant

Okay, let's take it as a given that I'm busy. I want to stop talking about how busy I am, which gets boring and starts to sound like an excuse. Although, it is sometimes useful to re-evaluate some of the stuff I'm busy with ... but that's a topic for another day.

The writing is getting a tiny bit easier. The section I'm working on now is amorphous: I just have two characters and a setting, but no particular plot that needs to be accomplished. So I'm writing to find out what could happen. At first this feels like walking off the edge of a cliff, but today it was more like panning for gold, just dredging up anything that might have a good nugget in it.

When I write on my Palm, as I'm doing now, I can only see a little bit of text at a time. So there's no temptation to go back and read or edit what I've written. It's great for this kind of first draft free-writing. When I move to editing I'll go back to the big screen.

I've now done an hour and a half of writing in the past six days. I can guarantee that I would not have done one minute of writing if I hadn't set this little goal. It would have been very easy to say I'm tired, it's late, I'VE BEEN BUSY in case you haven't noticed, and totally blow it off. I'm once again reminded that this is how everything gets done, fifteen minutes at a time.

I'm Cheating a Little

I backdated this post to Saturday, even though it's Sunday morning at 2 am. But I'm too stubborn to give up my streak so early in the game.

Life with a toddler sometimes feels like an obstacle course. Here, you must make breakfast and go pick strawberries and buy training pants at Wal-Mart, then you get a nap after lunch but the toddler will wake up at the same time you do. Then make a grocery list and carry the toddler to the store in your sling. Note: you must choose your groceries while making sure the toddler doesn't stand up in the cart, all the while singing the Veggie Tales theme song. Laundry, dinner, phone call, put toddler to bed, apply make-up and contacts, jump in car to drive to birthday party.

And I wonder why I don't write more.

But I did tonight. Since I got home so late from the birthday party*, I wasn't going to write, but then I decided that it would be alright if I just sat there for fifteen minutes and thought about my story. After one minute of sitting and getting bored, I started to type.

*The party was outrageous. My friend engaged none other than Stephen Fearing to play her 50th birthday party as a private gig, so I sat in a lovely room with about thirty other people and listened to one of my favourite musicians play for an hour and a half. Then he signed my CD ("Out to Sea," his first album, which I bought when I was 19) and we chatted about mastering vinyl records and the perils of playing house concerts. Have you never heard Stephen Fearing sing and play? Please go to CBC Concerts on Demand now and listen to him.

Bonus question: if you could have any singer/songwriter play at your birthday party, who would you choose? I thought of Daniel Lanois and Joni Mitchell, but my first choice would be Imogen Heap. She could play "Just For Now."

The Hermit Fantasy

Today was crammed with work and family. Still no luck doing my writing early in the day (see also: work and family) so it gets smushed in at the end of the day when I'm tired and reluctant. (15 minutes? Check.)

It's tempting to fantasize about how much easier it would be to Live My Dream if it were just me: no interruptions, no demands, no bad moods, nothing unpredictable. But the real trap, I think, is in the black-and-white thinking that imagines the only solution as a hermit-like existence where I've tossed everything out except my computer. Who am I kidding? If I wasn't married with children, I'd probably be putting all my energy into getting a family, thinking "Once I'm settled, then I'll worry about writing." The real art is in carving creative, solitary space out of an already-full life in a way that doesn't antagonize my loved ones or make me cranky and resentful. That takes a lot of love and surrender. I am still not very good at it. But I will be getting lots of practice this summer.

P.S. Today I discovered Nikki Yanofsky, a fourteen-year-old jazz singer from Montreal who is the bomb. She scats like nobody's business. I love the contrast of her sultry singing voice with the gosh-gee-whiz speaking voice. Check out this concert of hers from CBC Concerts on Demand.

Flak

It occurred to me this morning, as I trudged through the torrential rain, trying to balance an umbrella and a large box of disposable diapers, that life often seems to throw up hurdles right after I make some commitment to a creative path. It's happened with grad school, my shift to part-time work and then freelancing, NaNoWriMo ... Just when I think, "okay, I can do this, I just need a little will power" ... life happens. Today it was a 5:30 am wake-up call from my little one, then the acute diaper shortage (even all the cloth ones were dirty), and then an accident with a coffee cup that required ministrations to the carpet. I could have gotten discouraged and thought, how can I be expected to keep my cool and stick to my regimen in these conditions?

But I didn't. I smiled to myself and said, yep, we're right on track. Something or someone is trying to make sure I'm really serious about this "writing for the summer" thing. And I assured it/him/her that I am. Then I wrote for 15 minutes.

I also sent a memo rescinding Murphy's Law. Let's hope it gets into the right hands.

Better Late Than Never

I felt like I was wrong-footed all day today. I was up late last night, catching up on email and RSS feeds, and of course the moment I got into bed at midnight, Lia started crying for her mommy. So I was late getting up, and never did get a shower (the joys and perils of working from home). I skipped my noon yoga class by accident; I was planning to go but then got absorbed in contract work and by the time I looked up it was too late to make it to class. Sad but probably just as well since I had so much work to do.

Since we've been away for almost two weeks, the house is messy and dirty, and the kitchen is low on supplies. (Ack, I just remembered now I was supposed to go out and buy diapers and toilet paper. Dang.) I never want to write in this environment. It doesn't feel good enough for my novel. I want a pristine desk, an immaculate bathroom, and dinner simmering on the stove before I write. But at 10 pm I gritted my teeth, shoved aside the piles of papers, and wrote for 15 minutes.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe I will go to bed now and get up in time to take a shower. Wouldn't it be nice.

The Summer Schedule

This spring, I took on some extra contract work so that I could self-finance a writing sabbatical over the summer (I'd been hoping for an arts grant but that didn't come through). So in July and August, I will have three full days a week to work on my book. It's been two years since I've had that kind of time for fiction writing. To say I'm excited is an understatement.

I have various ideas for making the most of my time this summer. One is to blog here every day about my writing activities, to keep me accountable and to keep you entertained.

Another is to write fiction for at least 15 minutes a day. This approach works really well for getting around my resistance, which is fierce when I think I have to write for a big chunk of time to make it worth it, and end up writing nothing at all. So even though I'm bushed from the weekend (we celebrated my dad's sixtieth birthday at our family cottage, and made the five-hour drive home today with an cranky, mosquito-bitten toddler), I pulled out my Palm Pilot and folding keyboard, and typed for fifteen minutes. It might not sound like much, but it's the first writing I've done in over a month. So I'm happy.