Writer’s Life – Page 41 – WordServe Water Cooler

February 4, 2013February 1, 2013

What Do I Write About? Tendering Your Witness

Like many of you creative writerly types, I have a new book or essay idea about once a week. Any casual observer will know when this happens. My eyes gain x-ray vision, I will wear mismatched clothes for a day or two. I’ll start pulling books from my library, organizing them into Useful Research Piles, and I create a new folder on my computer, into which I start shuttling and dumping uncountable necessary articles and links.

But it is not long before the writing deadlines I am already under reassert their authority. I follow meekly to my office to tending my previous fires that once sent me into fevers, but with a new light gleaming from my forehead.

Some of those gleams turn into books, essays, and blog posts. But some of them sputter into oblivion, snuffed out by the realities of life, the most pressing of which is—There Is Never Enough Time.

The question we all face is: Out of a plenitude of possibilities, yet with limited time and energy, what do we choose to write about? How do we decide?

The stakes are high. If it’s books we’re talking about, for me it’s at least 2 years of immersion in the writing, and then once the book is released, several more years follow of spreading the word. So I had better love it, believe it, and be willing to soap any box with its message.

How do we decide, then? I have followed a simple rule most of my writing life: TENDER YOUR “BURDEN OF WITNESSING.”

The phrase here is not mine. I’ve lifted it from Patricia Hampl’s wisest of words, “ . . . For we do not, after all, simply have experience; we are entrusted with it. We must do something—make something—with it. A story, we sense is the only possible habitation for the burden of our witnessing.”

What has God entrusted to you? What “burdens of witnessing” have been given to you? Start here. My first book of prose was about commercial fishing women, because there I was, in the midst of a life I was trying to live and understand, mostly unsuccessfully. I moved to memoir next, writing about my life on a wilderness island in Alaska, then onto other topics I had “witnessed”: motherhood, unplanned pregnancy, the spirituality of food, forgiveness of my schizoid father. I have never regretted a single project.

When you write as a witness from these hard places, you immediately avoid one of the greatest weaknesses of beginning writing, and even “successful” writing: writing without “mattering.” Over the years, I’ve met students and writers who can fashion beautiful sentences in their sleep—–but talent and beauty alone does not make them “matter.” Without heart, without an urgency that comes from deeply lived experience, your words on the page will only be words on a page. (And, take note: Because they matter to you doesn’t automatically make them matter to your readers. You must make them matter to the reader as well.)

There is yet another reason for doing this. And forgive me now for going sermonic on you, but I pull it out now because I know you are reluctant to excavate the stash under your bed and in your closets. One of the graces of believing in a God who inhabits the hearts of his people is the certainty that all events—celebrations, dirges, dangers, and feasts—come to us through His hands, and they are hands with purpose. They are hands that intend our trials to be tended and eventually tendered for the good of others. The New Testament spells out the program: God, who is the “God of all comfort,” comforts us in our troubles for this purpose, “so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” Pass it on, brothers and sisters.

Don’t worry if there’s blood. As Red Smith has written, “For my money anyway, the only books worth reading are books written in blood . . . “ [Red Smith].

Write about what you MUST write about. Write about what has been entrusted to you alone. Write about what matters most to you. Write about the things you cannot turn away from. Write about the hurt, the cheating, the doubts, the hopes, the comfort, the sickness. Our time is short—make it count.

Tender the witness you’ve been given.

February 3, 2013February 1, 2013

Hello? Who’s Calling?

One of my favorite stories in the Bible involves hearing a call, but not knowing where it came from.

Young Samuel is learning the ropes of serving God when he hears a call in the night and assumes it is Eli, his mentor. Obediently, he runs to the old man and says, “Here I am; you called me.” (1 Samuel 3: 5) Eli denies calling Samuel, and only after it happens a third time, does Eli realize that God is the one doing the calling, at which point he tells Samuel how to answer. Following Eli’s instruction, Samuel responds to God and enters into conversation with the Lord.

There are three reasons I love this scripture so much: 1) like Samuel, I don’t always recognize who is calling me; 2) it reassures me that I get more than one chance to get it right; and 3) when I finally do get it right, God doesn’t hold my slowness against me, but launches into conversation.

I’ve also learned that this is a great way to understand my writing career – it takes discernment, effort and openness to write what God gives me, and thankfully, He’s very, very patient with my slowness!

Discernment can be a journey in itself.

I’ve always been a writer. But it wasn’t till I was pursuing my master’s degree in theology that I felt the urge to write books, and specifically, fiction. I remember telling one of my instructors about this new desire, and how odd it was for me, a trained journalist and researcher, to suddenly feel like I should write a novel. Her response was that I should not dismiss the urge, that God speaks through fiction as well as nonfiction. I tucked the idea away, thinking it was momentary insanity…until three years later, when another instructor told me I should write a book.

“But I don’t know what to write – I have so many ideas I’d like to explore,” I confessed to him.

“Then pick one and get to work,” he told me.

I chose the concept of vocation, and wrote my first book, a short theological reflection on Christian vocation. I enjoyed the work and the book was published. It felt right, and it felt safe. Nonfiction, I could do.

But I still felt the draw to write fiction. One day, I decided to give it a try when a friend told me I told great stories about my kids. Since I loved mysteries, I chose that genre, and surprised myself with how immersed I became in the writing. I felt like it was what I was called to do.

In my experience, God does speak to us through others, even when we’re not listening very well. Samuel was lucky – he had Eli to help him discern God’s voice. In our lives, I believe we have help, too, but we have to be open to those messengers of discernment, because they can come in many forms and voices, and they can be very persistent (thank goodness!). After all, it took Eli three times to recognize God’s call for Samuel.

Who helps you discern the call of God in your writing life?

January 28, 2013January 28, 2013

Why I Don’t Believe in Writer’s Block

It’s one of the most oft-asked questions I get as a writer and teacher: “What can I do about writer’s block?”

“Write,” I say. (I was going say, “Simple. Write.” Alas, I realize it isn’t simple. It isn’t easy.)

I tell people I don’t believe in writer’s block.

The PCT heading toward Oregon's Collier Cone. — The PCT heading toward Oregon’s Collier Cone.

Do the words sometimes come harder than at other times — or hardly at all? Sure.

Do you sometimes need to change things up to feel the mojo again? Sure.

Do you sometimes crave the idea of skipping that 5 a.m. appointment with your keyboard? Sure.

But this idea that we can’t move forward until the muse returns with open arms — no, that’s a crock. Basing your writing on feelings is no better than basing your life on feelings.

Sometimes you just have to power your way through.

It’s that way with anything we do. But writers seem to have created something of a self-fulfilling failure prophecy, a challenge apparently so insurmountable that we’ve given it an official name. And once something is named, it becomes an official malady.

Read: An excuse.

I don’t believe in writer’s block anymore than I believe in “plumber’s block” should the guy fixing my pipes suddenly find the going difficult. “Sorry, pal,” he might say as he gathers up his tools — and, of course, hitches up his, ahem, jeans. “Just not feeling it today.”

I don’t believe in writer’s block anymore than I believe in “surgeon’s block” should the doctor doing my knee operation find herself stymied. “Hey, Bob, hang in there. I’m going to flex out the rest of the day. Maybe catch a matinee to see if I can get back in the groove, you know?”

That’s not to say there aren’t things you can do to get yourself “unstuck.” Sometimes I’ll go back and read my piece from the beginning. Explain my plight to someone who knows my story with hopes they can jar something lose. Maybe even take a walk.

But this idea that you somehow need to wait until the “feeling” returns is bunk.

Ernest Hemingway said it well: “Easy writing makes hard reading. Hard writing makes easy reading.” Jack London claimed to have written 20 hours a day.

Part of writing is discipline. Is doggedly moving on. Is writing on even if the results aren’t perfect. Even when it hurts. Even when you’d rather be doing something else.

So, today’s efforts might not have rung your literary chimes. But they count for something. You persevered. To quit whenever it hurts it to make it that much easier to quit the next time. A lesson I learned while hiking the 452-mile Oregon portion of the Pacific Crest Trail: “You must go when your body says no.” With writing, you must go when your mind says no.

Just last week, after a speech, someone in the audience asked me which of my books I’d written was my favorite. “They’re like children,” I said. “Each one is my favorite for a different reason. But the one I’m proudest of is American Nightingale because nothing in my nearly four decades of journalism has come with more difficulty. Nearly four years from idea on a Wendy’s napkin to seeing it on a Barnes & Noble shelf.” (I captured that research, writing, and promotional experience in a subsequent book, Pebble in the Water.)

Sometimes I draw inspiration from fellow writers. I do a lot of 5-a.m.-to-9 a.m. book writing before I go off to be a newspaper columnist. If my alarm goes off and I don’t want to get up I remember my novelist friend Jane Kirkpatrick and think this: Jane has already been on her keyboard for an hour.

Or because I write a lot about inspirational people, I’ll think about something they soldiered through — war, disease, the death of a loved one — and think to myself: Buck up, pal. This is just stringing together words. You’ve got it easy.

January 27, 2013January 26, 2013

Living More Renewed in 2013

Did you make any resolutions for 2013? Okay, now the convicting question, are you keeping them? Whether 2012 was a fruitful year for you, a dry, challenging season, or somewhere in between, the new year offers a fresh start—a new beginning filled with a renewed sense of hope for the future. However, our 2013 won’t look much different from past years unless we make some changes. Resolutions are often our way of acknowledging the aspects of our lives that need a little tweaking.

This year, I made a resolution to live life more fully renewed and spiritually refreshed through a greater commitment to prayer. Would you consider joining me in my quest to become stronger and more fully devoted to Jesus than ever before?

I must caution you that is just the kind of commitment the apostle Peter claimed to have before he denied His Lord three times.

Check out this adapted excerpt from my new Bible study on Peter—Eyewitness to Majesty: Abandoning Self for Christ:

“You will all fall away,” Jesus told them…”But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee.” Peter declared, “Even if all fall away, I will not.
“I tell you the truth,” Jesus answered, “today—yes, tonight—before the rooster crows twice you yourself will disown me three times.” –Mark 14:27-30

Peter was claiming greater allegiance to Jesus than that of all the other disciples. Just like many of us, Peter desperately wanted to be strong and fully devoted to Jesus. His spirit was willing, but his flesh was overwhelmingly weak.

Peter didn’t realize a test of his commitment was coming. Satan had asked to sift him like wheat. Grain is purified by sifting. In Jesus’ day, the grain was placed into large sieves that were shaken vigorously, allowing the grain to pass through. Undesirable pieces or weeds were left behind. I believe a sifting by Satan occurs when everything in our lives is shaken to the point where we have nothing to cling to except our faith, but trials of any kind can bring about some level of spiritual sifting. We come through those circumstances stronger and some weeds, such as discontentment or pride, have often been sifted away.

Just before Jesus was arrested and then crucified on the cross, the Son of God knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed to His Father in such agony that He was sweating blood.

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.” –Mark 14:37-38

Jesus was not just informing Peter of his weakness. Jesus Himself was being tempted to flee the cross. His spirit was willing, but His flesh was weak. Jesus gained the strength He needed to overcome His flesh through prayer. If Jesus needed to pray to overcome temptation, don’t you think we should do the same?

Jesus’ sorrow overwhelmed Him to the point of death. Yet He was able to pray, “Not what I will, but what You will.” He got up from that prayer time strong and in total submission to God’s will. In contrast, Peter slept and rested while Jesus prayed. He had emphatically proclaimed he would not fall away. He wasn’t prepared for the sifting about to take place in his life. Jesus had warned him, yet Peter wasn’t listening. His spirit truly was willing, but his flesh was tragically weak. Copyright © 2013 AMG Publishers, All Rights Reserved.

If Jesus needed to pray to overcome His flesh, we cannot possibly overcome temptation without prayer. Like Peter, our spirits may be willing, but our flesh is tragically weak.

To make prayer a priority this year, I’m setting two alarms to make sure I get up early enough to have my prayer time each morning. I’m also posting a prayer on my author Facebook page every Monday morning for accountability and to pray regularly with other believers. And finally, I’m meeting with three other women once a month for a time of focused prayer.

If you’re making a greater commitment to prayer, what are you doing to make that pledge a reality? Let’s live 2013 more fully renewed and spiritually refreshed—together.

January 18, 2013January 18, 2013

The Joy of NOT Going Solo

Here’s the truth: I love the solitude of writing. I crave feeling on my own shoulders all the responsibility for crafting a story, and I’ll resist anyone’s attempts to try and share the task.

Which makes it rather ironic when I tell you that the best writing move I made in the past twelve months was to join a writers’ group.

In particular, this group – the WordServe WaterCooler authors.

This is not to say that I meet up with my colleagues for coffee to toss book ideas around or offer each other critiques on working manuscripts. Since we are scattered around the country – even the globe! – the Starbucks club isn’t even a possibility. Yet, in the past year, I have found invaluable support from these new associates of mine, and their very concrete contributions to my writing development and opportunities have boggled my mind, especially since I’d imagined my involvement with these authors would be limited to seeing my name listed among theirs in the sidebar on the site. Instead, I’ve made friends with whom I share an abiding passion, a mission, and a whole lot of experiences. They’ve shared ingenious tips and simple ideas that kick-start my own creative and marketing efforts. I feel like I’ve been swept five years ahead in my career development, instead of my typical solitary slog of a year at a time.

So, okay, you get the picture. Enough kissy-kissy, “I love you” comments. The point I want to make is that every writer – EVERY WRITER – can benefit in amazing ways by being a part of a group of writers.

The key, however, is being a part of the RIGHT writers’ group, and this is the really tough part, I believe: finding the group that fits you. Here are things to consider as you search for your own writing pals:

Look for peers. Teaching new writers how to create characters, plots, book proposals, and research markets is a generous and good thing to do, but if you want to move forward in your own writing career, you need to find writers who are at the same stage of the journey as you are. If the local writers’ club is all about getting that first article published while you’re working on building a platform for your next book, you won’t stick with the group. Find writers with the same needs as yours.
A writers’ group isn’t necessarily about crafting your manuscript. Think of it as your emotional and spiritual cheerleading squad and be sure to take turns leading the cheers, and shedding the tears, for everyone in the group. In a way, a ‘writers’ group’ is almost an oxymoron – a bunch of solitary authors who open up to each other.
You don’t compete with your group members. It isn’t a class where you’re vying for top scores. Your group should be a resource for information, ideas, experience and motivation, not a standard of comparison.

Are you a part of a writers’ group?

January 16, 2013January 12, 2013

All the World’s A Page: The 9 Woes of the Writing Life

At work in the world, on the world of the page. — At work on the world of the page.

Recently at the end of a creative nonfiction class I taught, a student came to me with a helpless shrug of her shoulders. “I want to write. I want to be a writer. That’s what I want to do with my life.” I felt a gush of pride that I had managed a convert, but pity came next, then fear: What had I done? I immediately knew I needed to fill in what I left out from the class script, the off-stage notes that turn out to be the most important. To her and to any other aspiring writers, I offer the cheerful remainder here (to be read in a sonorous voice, because the warnings are real):

Woe #1: You will see too much.

You will no longer be able to ignore the woman in El Salvador sitting among the garbage, the man carrying a sink onto a bus, the arguing couple behind you in the restaurant. A writer is charged with keeping attention, with bringing words to the invisible, the unspoken, the troubling, the ridiculous. But even as you take note, do take note: the best words you find will not be enough.

Woe #2: You’ll lose a lot of sleep.

You will welcome nightly visitations of the muse, inviting her with an open notebook beside your bed. You will be so hungry for words you will gladly trade your necessary rest for a single cutting sentence, a vivid metaphor, a line of pretty poetry. You will be tired often because of it and you won’t always be happy.

Woe #3: You will gradually be divested of your most cherished stereotypes and grudges.

Your entrance into others’ lives and stories whether actual or fictional will bring a disconcerting complexity and humanness to the unlikeliest and unloveliest people. If you’re not careful, you may even be tempted to forgive.

Woe #4: You’ll give away your privacy.

All the world’s a page. To keep both of yours turning (world and page) you’ll need to appear on every platform you can beg, borrow and thieve, telling and giving all at any hour of night or day, without modesty or reserve. You will give most of yourself away. A special woe to those tempted to write memoir.

Woe #5: You will read for pleasure less and you will like fewer books.

Once you take language and books seriously you will be unable to turn off your writer and editor’s eye. Writing that once offered distraction and escape will seldom survive the mental red pen, shrinking your list of favorites. You will give up on bestsellers. You will feel culturally stranded.

Woe #6: You will spend far more money than you make.

For every writing project you undertake, you will buy a shelf or two of books and you’ll subscribe to literary journals and magazines as if they kept you warm and fed. Which they will, but the metaphor breaks down when the temperature drops below freezing and you’re eating oatmeal for dinner and the bills are past due.

Woe #7: You will not be content to live in the present only.

In your pursuit of what is real and true, you will excavate the past as eagerly as the present, breaking down closet doors, piecing skeletons together, retrieving abandoned diaries. You will find nuance and revolution that disturbs the status quo. Others will be annoyed and will try to keep you quiet. You may not be invited for Christmas dinner.

Woe #8: You will no longer be satisfied in writing for yourself.

Once you find an audience, however small, you’ll write by an open window instead of a mirror. You’ll carry your readers with you. You’ll care too much about the truth for their sake. You’ll want to heal and help. You’ll see how small you are. You’ll keep writing anyway.

When I began a tentative writing life thirty years ago, I was never formally wooed nor “woe-d.” If I had, would I have continued? I know the answer. It comes as the final “woe” and I write it now to my student, who is still watching me with undimmed eyes:

Woe#9: Woe to those who hear, who touch and who see, yet who drop the pen and turn away from the open half-written pages of a world still waiting to be finished. Many stories will be lost. Yours will not end as it should. This woe is far worse than the others.

January 14, 2013June 24, 2013

Writing for Money

Motives in life—and the publishing industry–can be squishy.

But life is all about the motive. The heart of the matter is what we’ll likely be judged by.

I started writing for money. That was my motive. It was 1988 and I was toward the end of a decade-long youth ministry gig. Loved about 8 years of it, but the last year was the worst. Support was low, two small kids, so I had to find more income. Consulting. Singles Pastor. Youth leader. And “writer.” Four “jobs.”

I got $35 each to write the “I Wonder” notes in the Life Application Bible for Students. Sixty-six of them. Big money at a time when I really needed it. (Thank you, Dave Veerman.)

Hmmmm, I thought, maybe someone will pay me to write something else. So I started writing a Bible study; a magazine article or three (thank you, Steve Strang, for publishing my first magazine article); training manuals. (Not a lot of money in training manuals…for me, none.)

But because I needed money and wrote “I Wonder” notes, I got a call from Focus on the Family in the summer of 1989. They were looking for a magazine editor. Someone who knew teen boys. “We’ll teach you commas and periods,” I was told. They did. (Thank you, Dean Merrill.) I soon had a “youth group” of 100,000 teen boys. Um, that was a bit larger than the one I had in Campus Life.

And those 66 “I Wonder” notes became my first book, If I Could Ask God One Question (Tyndale 1990). That led to more books written and co-written…21 of them over the next 12 years. (Thank you, Susie Shellenberger, Mike Yorkey, and Michael Ross.) I also made extra dough on the side writing magazine articles (200 of them). But what I discovered I loved was the idea portion of books; the fleshing out of proposals, and then the selling of those ideas where a publisher wrote me checks I wanted to take pictures of.

Oh, and writing the books once they sent the first half of the advance. That was okay, too.

But leaving my family to get on planes on weekends to speak, constant radio interviews…I didn’t like so much. Even though there were only four others I knew of at the time, maybe I could become a literary agent. That way I could work close to home, still be involved with ideas and proposals and books…and maybe someone would still send me checks for that. (Thank you, Rick Christian.)

Eighteen years later, I’ve been privileged to represent about 2,200 books. I’ve met some of the best hearted people in the world—creative types who write on eternal subjects, tell stories that move the soul, stay up late and get up early to pound out words on their computer, get on planes to speak to the few and to masses…why do they do it? Why did they start? How do they keep going?

I wonder if C.S. Lewis would have written ”The Chronicles of Narnia” if someone hadn’t written him a check of some sort to spend hours at his Royal typewriter; if they hadn’t promised to pay him odd-sounding British coins and pounds for each book sold.

And this takes us back to money. Is it okay to write for money? I ponder sometimes what my life would have been like if someone hadn’t asked me to write…for money. No small percentage of wonderfully inspired prose would have been created (nor a much larger percentage of really mediocre content, unlike seo services), no introductions to talented wordsmiths who could help me know where commas and periods go and who were patient with me as I learned the difference between its and it’s. No lifetime friends in an industry of people dedicated to making their lives count. No involvement with authors and books and stories that are shaping the life and faith of millions of readers.

And maybe no bills paid when I needed them paid.

This is why motives are squishy. Writing only for money isn’t always the best idea, but sometimes it takes you to a place that certain Someone may want you to go; perhaps to a life where your words will outlive you and still make an impact for eternity well after you’re gone.

Nothing wrong with that motive.

Question: How do you feel about writing for money, as well as other motives as it relates to writing?

_______________
Greg Johnson is President of WordServe Literary Group, a literary agency based near Denver, Colo.

January 13, 2013January 13, 2013

The Power of One Word

“… Words are powerful; take them seriously …” (Matt. 12:36 MSG).

I noticed a small typo within a comment that I had posted on a friend’s blog. Instead of the word “power,” I had typed “poser.”

A minor mistake? Not for a writer! And especially not in this case!

My tiny error distorted the entire significance of this scripture: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Cor. 4:7 NIV).

One word shifted my focus and the potential attention of my readers. All I could see was my mistake. I lost sight of the message and power of God’s Word. And my readers may have missed the entire point of my comment.

How many times do we let one word spoil things for us? We speak a single word of profanity in the heat of an argument. Or we whisper a little white lie as we try to cover up a mistake. We often regret the unexpected consequences that result from our words. One negative comment or careless thought voiced in frustration or anger can blind us from seeing God’s blessings in a situation.

As a writer, I cringe when I discover one insignificant word choice that turns a powerful point into a grammatical disaster. And I wince when I read an offensive term that will repel an audience of would-be readers.

As a writing instructor, I notice many writers resisting the editing process. They focus on the goal of finishing their writing task, instead of fine-tuning their grammar and mechanics. They get offended if anyone calls attention to one tiny mistake or unclear point, or someone suggests meaningful change. Then, they get angry or depressed when they receive a lower grade for their work, or the piece is rejected for publication.

As a Christian, I’ve also experienced the power of God’s Word. One word of encouragement can pull me out of the deepest pit of despair. A single promise from God’s Word can offer hope to me, when my circumstances seem overwhelming. My simple confession of faith can produce peace in my heart and mind “which exceeds anything (I) can understand.” (Phil. 4:7 NLT).

So, does one word matter? God’s Word answers this question. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

Photo/KarenJordan

Have you experienced the power of one word?

January 11, 2013January 4, 2013

The 15-Minute Writer, Part 4: Brain “Rules” for Writers

Busy authors and authors-in-training need all the brainpower we can get. (Especially us writer-moms; I’m convinced that some of my brain came out with each of my two children!)

Therefore, I listened VERY closely during a recent writers retreat as John Medina, author of Brain Rules, spoke about brain science, and how it can help writers become more productive.

Before we begin, we need to realize that there are no real “brain rules” for creatives. “I’m guessing as to what will help your creativity and output, according to the brain research that’s out there,” Medina told us. With that caveat in mind (pun intended), here are a few practical lessons I gleaned from the two hour-long sessions he led.

First, our ability to be creative is directly related to feeling safe. Our minds are instinctual; therefore, we need to find a place to write where we don’t feel threatened emotionally, creatively, or physically. Maybe it’s a coffee shop where the server knows our favorite drink, or a corner of our home where we can thoroughly relax.

Try this: ask yourself: where can I create without someone interrupting and/or discouraging me? Journal for fifteen minutes about this, or spend that time setting up a more nurturing space.

Second, we need to sleep to learn. Medina says, “We not only rehearse what we’ve learned as we sleep; we also rehearse what we don’t know, and try to solve it.”

Try this: do you have writer’s block? Work on your problem manuscript two hours before bed. Need to finish something within a few hours? Set a timer, and take a refreshing 15-minute nap.

Third, we all have times of the day when we’re most productive. Medina calls these natural body rhythms “chrono-types,” and he encourages authors to pay close attention to them.

Try this: work when you’re most creative. Are you a lark (morning person)? Set your alarm to write before work or school. Are you a might owl (night person)? Write after the kids are in bed. Maybe you’re a hummingbird (afternoon person). If so, try to write during your break at work, even if it’s only for fifteen minutes.

Fourth, exercise boosts cognition and buffers against the negative effects of stress. Medina cited a study which looked at two groups of people as they transitioned through the aging process. The active group suffered less depression and dementia, retired later in life, surrounded themselves by family and friends, and aged beautifully. The sedentary group aged “terribly,” according to Medina. “They endured depression, anxiety, medical problems, loneliness–and they looked old.”

He then mentioned a study in which soldiers exercised before and after Chinese language lessons. “There was a one hundred percent change in cognitive function when the soldiers exercised before trying to learn Chinese,” he said. “Other studies show that if you keep up regular exercise for three years, you actually improve memory!”

Try this: Medina vows that five aerobic sessions of 30 minutes per week is all it takes to get the massive brain benefits from exercise. Those sessions can also be two smaller ones (say, 15 minutes). He also says that your mental “sweet spot” will occur right after you exercise. So schedule a short exercise session right before your writing time. Your brain–and your body–will thank you!

Read part one, two, or three of this series.

January 7, 2013January 3, 2013

The Jealous Writer

Confession time. I have a problem with writer jealousy. It’s not a serious case, but enough that it requires energy and effort to keep it at bay.

As a child, I was known as The Smart One. But like most who want what they don’t have, I preferred any of these titles, The Cute One, The Funny One, or The Sweet One. Alas, I wasn’t gifted with any of those labels. And I allowed my thoughts over what I wasn’t to overshadow the gift of who I was.

As a woman, I know discontent. Over my hair color, body shape, shoe size, and the shade of my eyes. Insecurity reeks a crushing blow to productive energy. I’d love to recapture the minutes and hours of my youth, spent on wishing I looked more like someone else. I could reinvest my lost time in doing something meaningful.

As a professional author, I too battle the green-eyed monster. When I read an eloquent beauty, a humorous author, a sweet wordsmith, or a creative powerhouse, I often wish I wrote like them. I tremble in the shadows of a thick plot, riddled with mystery, nuances, and intrigue. I covet the ability to paint rich landscapes, where every small touch blends to perfection. I feel sad that I can’t make readers belly laugh like my hysterical peers. My heart’s desire is to embellish dialogue with verbs so strong that the reader forgets where they are as soon as they climb into the story.

But there’s hope for a jealous writer like me.

Through age, I’ve learned it’s okay to be me, as designed by God. The child in me couldn’t see the benefit of my unique outlook on things. But now I know if the building’s burning down, pretty, funny, and sweet won’t get you out.
Through maturity, I’m learning to appreciate my gifts. I am who I am, and so are the irrevocable qualities others see in me.
I’m a serious student by nature, and can’t help sharing God-inspired knowledge and wisdom. Like a sponge, I absorb and release.
Are You a Cute Writer?

I don’t know if I’ll ever get past reading a hilarious story, and wishing I could write like its author. But I resolve to remember that just as an arm can’t do an ear’s job, neither can I write what someone else is called to. I may always long to write a great novel, but not until I finish the current race set before me.

Jealous writers who allow themselves to wallow won’t have time or energy to produce their own good work. I am a professional, aged-to-perfection, mature author. This is how I choose to focus my thoughts, so I can create the projects I’m uniquely qualified for. After all, if I don’t write them, who will?

Do you ever struggle with writer’s jealousy?