Turning off the Writing Blocks

house-mouse-mus-musculus-coloured-mouses-in-hamster-wheel-B1YTC6I work with a bunch of writers in a program called Memory to Memoir, and I mentor two writers each year for a year, thanks to a grant from the American NewMedia Foundation (thanks Debra Hallock). And I write, so I’ve seen a fair bit of the things that get in the way of writing, those little foxes in the vineyard, demons of destruction–whatever you want to call them. Here are a few of the most common blockades for  writers:

The Inner Critic: You’re doing it wrong, you haven’t got anything interesting to say, you’re not smart enough/sassy enough/sexy enough/strong enough. ENOUGH. You are enough because you are. Best way to deal with these bitches (who seem to travel in swarms) is to get a little medicine bottle and label it inner critic voices. Every time one goes off in my head, I open the lid and blow her into the bottle. A friend has an imaginary brick. When the girls show up, she picks up her brick and scatters them like roaches fleeing Raid.

The Hamster Wheel: You’re gonna write, of course you are–as soon as you earn the time by doing just those few little chores that have been hanging around and you just can’t sit down with a clear conscience until you’ve done them…. Make a list of things you need to do. Now prioritize the ones that have to be done to keep your world from blowing up. Literally, put numbers next to them. “Write something today” is not allowed to be below number four on that list. Now do the things above writing, and then write before you get to number five. Write for an hour at least.

The “I’ve Only Got an Hour” Fritter: You’ve only got an hour, and then you have to leave for someplace. Fine. Set a timer for 59 minutes, sit down, and go at it. The timer will keep you from forgetting to leave. Meanwhile, you can write with freedom of mind.

Oops I Forgot Syndrome: Similar to but kinda like putting a spoke in the hamster wheel, these are the “oops I forgot” moments that intrude on writing time. “I forgot to call my mom back; I forgot to get the laundry out of the dryer.” Keep scrap paper or a notepad by your writing area. Jot down the “I forgots” and let them wait there until you’re done. You have a note to remind you.

Interruptions: First, find a place where your family and work aren’t going to hunt you down, if you can. If not, establish an in-house writing zone in both time and space. Then establish the rules. Kids can’t show you blood? Don’t knock. Spouse needs to know RIGHT NOW? Then you get more time tomorrow while s/he watches over the rest of it. That’s the deal. If you have a home office, but closing the door isn’t enough, put up a color sticky when writing. When the family sees purple, they know you’re not to be interrupted unless the house is on fire. Make sure the family respects this, and you do too. Don’t blow off your time in there. It’s being paid for by other people who respect you enough to give it to you. That’s important. And validating.

These are the biggest writing bugaboos I see day to day. What are yours?

Janelle Bailey’s Monday Book

518IrDgn2hLAs an English teacher for 25 years, I assigned a lot of reading to a lot of kids! One of them from a few years back recently messaged me on Goodreads to start a conversation about her own reading and mine; she also made a recommendation to me of something she’d really enjoyed. I saw it as not only fair but wonderful, to have a former student “assign” me some reading.
The Marsh King’s Daughter by Karen Dionne was the book she recommended, and I am not disappointed to have taken her up on it, even though Lee Child’s cover blurb of “sensationally good psychological suspense” may have made me less likely, rather than more, to pick it up on my own.
The main character, Helena, is the product of an unusual–criminal, even–pairing. Her father kidnapped her mother at age 14 and literally “took” her for his wife; they lived together in seclusion in the northern woods of the UP (that’s the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, north of Wisconsin) and had then raised Helena there. His parenting practices are extremely questionable, yet Helena sure has little for comparison, given the circumstances. Her mother is not a lot better at it, given her young age, inexperience, and limitations placed on her by her “husband” and their lifestyle.
The novel begins, though, many years later, when Helena’s father escapes from prison. And oh, what tangled ways it moves from there, both in the current search as well as the revealing of the back story of Helena’s childhood and upbringing, chapter by chapter working through both time periods and also braiding in allusive excerpts to Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale by the same title.
While some elements are completely dark and violent, others are homey, even–such as how Helena makes her living (I’ll let you learn for yourself by reading the book), and it doesn’t dwell but moves; it’s got a good share of hope and forgiveness and light.
Whether you are one who’d grab the first thriller you saw or one who would not…possibly at all, I think you’ll find the good writing and great storytelling here to be well worth your reading time.