Writing is Fun, But Editing is Murder

It's the third Wednesday of the month, so it's critique group night. Right now, I have nothing to submit because my writing group has already read my work-in-progress, and it's in the hands of my beta readers. The feedback so far has been positive, but this trusted handful of readers has also found things I missed, ranging from typos, to repeated prose to eight characters whose names began with the letter D! Changing the names of the minor characters was easy enough. But finding choices that rang true for a few of the others was almost akin to renaming the family pet, making this post from 2020 feel like the perfect fit for today's Way Back Wednesday.

Writers are routinely advised to "murder our darlings," those lovely turns of phrase and bits of prose we create and then fawn over. 

But, if they're so lovely, then why should we kill them?

Because beauty is in the eye of the beholder (welcome to cliché day on the porch swing). All kidding (and clichés) aside, we writers are often unable to be objective about our own work. We have favorite pens, favorite words and an affinity for particular combinations in our own work (and sometimes in that of others, too). Often, it takes an objective eye to catch the fact that something's got to go.

This happens for many writers in the revision process but, if we're really lucky, we have critique group members and beta readers who highlight these things before we get to that point. As I was working on the final revisions for Courting Peace, I came across the description below. To put it in context, Angel was sitting in the parking lot of her church, glancing around for a distraction.

"The bell tower was a consistent source of discussion among the congregation. Physically, it was still in good repair, beautifully beckoning potential congregants from miles away. 

But mellifluous it wasn’t. Over time, the bells had fallen out of tune, and the discussion over replacing them had been heated. The bells had been part of the church since it had been built over a century ago, and not everyone viewed their replacement as progress. Pastor after pastor had avoided controversy by ensuring that the bell tower itself was safe, then channeling funds to more popular projects, while the bells’ pitch grew flatter and flatter. Last year, the music ministry had held a raffle to raise money to repair or replace the bells but, even with some money set aside, no plan that pleased everyone was yet in sight."

The writing is okay. Angel being in her head is okay. 

But when one of my critique group colleagues

raised the question of the importance of the bell tower, I had no rationale for these paragraphs. When my colleague said that, in her opinion, the bell tower didn't warrant that much description unless it was going to play a role elsewhere in the book, I couldn't disagree. 

And so, last weekend, when I came to that section, I cut it. Anne's gentle suggestion that the prose might be better without it was right on target.

Killing our darlings is hard (thus the cringe-worthiness of the phrase) but, in the end, doing so makes our work better, tighter, and clearer.

One more reason to love my critique group. Thanks, Anne. You were right. 

P.S., May 2024: She still is. :-)

The Vibrant Pursuits of Summer Vacation

JillWellington via Pixabay

 With spring semester behind me, I'm settling into a combination of work time and time off. I'll be teaching a class until the end of June, but it's online with no required sessions (and is only a little more than half full), so my schedule is flexible, leaving me time to dig into all the things I want to do.

Here are a few of them, in no particular order. 

1. Reading. Last week, I picked up books I'd reserved at the library and, over the past few days, I tidied the book stacks in my sunroom and in the family room, establishing a pecking order of sorts -- what I really want to read and (roughly) in what order. Now it's time to dig in!

2. Jigsaw puzzles. The one on the table in the sunroom has been sorely neglected over the last few weeks, and I now have two new ones that my daughter got me for Mother’s Day. These pair nicely with  any combination of iced chai and audiobooks (or, on some days, silence). 

3. Writing. I'm within striking distance of being 2/3 of the way through the revisions on my latest novel, making that the first project I'll tackle. I have another novel to revise, and I'm cooking up my next project as well. 

4. Organizing and decluttering. No major projects on tap here -- just whatever catches my eye, along with refreshing some cluttered spaces and making small improvements here and there. This is, believe it or not, something I find both relaxing and enjoyable as it engages my creative side and the part of me that likes bringing order out of chaos.

5. Creative pursuits. After trying my hand at a trash collage and loving it, I began making more collages, something I did a lot when I was in college, but haven't done at all since then. Unlike the scrapbooks I made when my daughter was small, these reveal my love of words, though I'm now playing with balancing them with visual elements. Since words and pictures are more my thing than just drawing, which comes less easily, I'll probably also try to work in some sketchnoting and, although it has nothing to do with words, the crochet projects I started last spring. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even pull out some scrapbooking 

6. Going to the beach (of course). And maybe some day trips.

7. Painting. Sadly, what I mean here has nothing to do with canvases and everything to with walls and (ugh) trim. Okay, this is one I'm not so much looking forward to doing as looking forward to having completed. 

Sound like a lot? Maybe. But I'm not planning on doing it all at once. Instead, I'll sprinkle in a little bit here and there each day, livening up the mundane with the things that truly bring me joy.

What's on your to-do for fun list?

Procrastination with a Purpose?

 If you're wondering if yesterday's post represented an unusual turn of events for me, you must be new here. 

Welcome.

Ten years ago, I discovered a fun little read called  The Art of Procrastination by John Perry, an emeritus professor of philosophy at Stanford. Yes, I know the two halves of that last sentence don't sound as if they belong together (one of these things is not like the other?), but I'm not making this up. And, as evidence, I submit the subtitle of the book: "A Guide to Effective Dawdling, Lollygagging and Postponing."

I wrote about Dr. Perry's book way back then (see the post below) and I've been assigning the essay in Chapter 1 to my freshmen ever since. As I wrote yesterday's post, the essay was echoing in my head, so I thought I'd (re-)share a bit about the book here.

Dr. Perry's first chapter began life as an essay -- one that won the 2011 Ig Nobel Prize in Literature. Before purchasing the book, I stood in Hearts and Minds and read a good chunk of that chapter, and that's what sold me on the book. After I brought it home, I set it aside, picking it up now and then to nibble at it a chapter at a time before finishing it all in one big bite this morning. No, I did not put off reading it; I merely savored it. 

Dr. Perry doesn't extol the virtues of procrastination, except in a tongue-in-cheek fashion. Throughout the book, he points out that lots of procrastinators accomplish quite a bit, much of it while they're doing something else, (a.k.a something besides what they're supposed to be doing). He intertwines his philosophy on the life of a procrastinator with strategies and, true to his education roots, a disclaimer that he's not recommending procrastination as a lifestyle, merely pointing out that we're not all lazy lollygaggers who put things off to the point that we never accomplish anything.

If you're a procrastinator (especially a "structured procrastinator," as Dr. Perry has dubbed himself), you'll laugh out loud at this book. If you know (or live with) a procrastinator, you'll either chuckle, or grow increasingly annoyed (see chapter nine) as you read this book. Or, perhaps you'll do both.

The timing of my reading is a bit ironic. I read two chapters last night before going to sleep, then finished this book this morning -- after spending much of the day yesterday putting off doing a project at the top of my list. I picked up the book last night in part because it related to the project I was working on, which is also part of what compelled me to finish the book this morning. By the time I finished it, I'd mentally written half of this blog and had begun coming up with new ideas for a class I'm proposing.

And my project? I finished it. Before I finished reading the book.

Substitutions Accepted (The Goldilocks To-Do List)

AlexBor via Pixabay

 Some days, I write a to-do list and I stick to it. 

Other days, I take a nap.

Last Monday was an off-kilter day. It started out like any other day, with my husband heading off to work and me heading off to class. Since it was the first day of the last week of classes, I was looking forward to the student-led discussions that would replace my "sage on the stage" instruction. The plan for the afternoon? Catching up on grading.

A somewhat typical Monday.

On the way to class, I called my daughter. 

She had the day off.

Then I called my husband. 

He was under the weather and would be coming home at lunchtime. 

Hmm.

The student discussions went well and I left campus ready to dig into some grading. But, on the way home, I noticed that there were parking spots available in front of the mom-and-pop plant place, so I stopped off to buy flowers to put in the small planter on my front porch. 

When I got home, I had to plant them (naturally). Then I would grade.

Right after lunch. 

But after lunch, I decided to finish my book so I'd meet my "finish two books" goal for the month. And then I decided to close my eyes for just a few minutes. 

Twenty minutes later, I opened my eyes and, about ten minutes after that I...

Did not grade. Instead, I reached for my book journal and another of my notebooks and jotted down all the things that were on my mind.

Eventually, I did grade. But, in keeping with the spirit of the day, I didn't grade quite as much as I had thought I might. The (very warm) afternoon had gotten away from me and, despite my nap, my mental energy was flagging. I turned to email and checked on a few tabs on my computer before I determined that I'd do a better job of grading tomorrow.

Even if it wasn't a work day.

I clicked around on my laptop for a bit before landing on a blog post draft that called out to me, so I finished it.

And then wrote two more.

Some days, we think we know what we're supposed to do. Last Monday, I thought I was supposed to grade -- and I did, for a bit. But, by listening to my instincts and pursuing the tasks that I felt primed for, I got a lot done, even if what I got done was not on that particular day's list.

Obviously, we can't meander every day. If we don't stick to the to-do list at least some of the time, we'll never get anything done. But if, on a warm spring Monday, nothing is going quite according to plan, it's not the end of the world. 

It might, in fact, lead us to the Goldilocks to-list -- the one that's just right for that particular day and time.

And we just might find that sweet spot between rest and productivity.

Keep Your Plaids, I Want My Polka Dots

 When my daughter described my clothing style as "brights and patterns," I didn't immediately agree. I imagined a wardrobe full of florals and paisleys and plaids, none of which are my go-tos. I have some florals but, as someone who's short but not necessarily petite, I avoid large prints of any kind because I feel as though they overpower me. 

She wasn't wrong about the brights, though. I do like my pops of color. And, upon further reflection, I realized that I use prints in the same way. My favorite?

Polka dots. And what has more contrast than white dots against a black background?

My first Kate Spade purchase was a black-and-white polka dotted purse. It was great for jazzing up an outfit full of solids, particularly when black and white are the most well-represented solids in my closet. A red top and black pants became an outfit as soon as I picked up that purse and added a few accessories.

A few years later, I found my prized planner, which is also black and white polka dotted (and also Kate Spade). My school bag (which came with a white and black polka dotted wristlet) and various accessories soon followed. I don't own the whole collection because I couldn't justify spending money on things I wouldn't use, but that doesn't stop me from putting them on my wish list. 

For several summers, my go-to outfit was a black and white pin dot skort -- the comfort of shorts with the finish of a skirt. I could dress it up or down and it went with practically everything in my closet. 

Then, I lost weight (on purpose) and it no longer fit. A few weeks ago, I saw a very similar item in a catalog and immediately ordered it and wore it to work almost immediately after it arrived.

How about you? Are you a fan of checks, stripes, plaids, or paisleys? Animal prints? Polka dots? Do you have a signature print? What's your favorite way to show it off?

Preserving the Craft

 Yesterday, I wrote about journaling and it was only after I completed my post that I realized that my current morning routine has enabled me to develop a regular journaling practice -- one I've talked about for quite some time, but haven't engaged in for close to 40 years.

Clearly you can teach an old dog new tricks. 

What's even better, though, is teaching young ones ways to explore their own creativity. The post below is eleven years old, and it's been about that long since I co-ran a summer writing camp. I remain optimistic, however, that there are still young writers out there waiting to share their work with the world. 

And, as for my niece, she's on her way to a PhD to teach English. :-)

Sometimes I worry about the effect of standardized testing on not only the teaching of writing, but what we're teaching our kids about writing as well. I fear that the fallout of a test-inspired curriculum will be a generation of kids who think that "writing" means responding to a prompt in a sterile, formulaic way, and who are deprived of the opportunity to connect the creative dots in their heads to a brand new piece of writing -- a story on a page.

And then last week, I got to co-teach a creative writing class to nine middle school kids who'd chosen -- without duress -- to spend four summer afternoons connecting those dots. Against the odds, these kids love writing. While they would have been content to curl up and write during the entire session, my co-instructor and I felt that the concept of "class" implied instruction of some sort, so we discussed the elements of a story, ways to create characters and how to write a pitch. We made character collages, went outside to soak in sensory experiences to lend credibility to their imagery and Googled things like French phrases and Star Wars memorabilia. And the kids -- a group ranging in age from 11 to 13 -- spent at least half of each class putting words on the page or the computer screen, turning creative sparks into stories on fire. 

The week flew by, leaving us with less time than we'd have liked to have had on Thursday to share pitches and masterpieces. Some stories were laced with humor, others took my breath away. And every single one had at least one sentence that was an absolute gem -- a perfect crystallization of a writing concept acquired along the way that had nothing to do with the ratio of topic sentences to concrete details and commentary sentences.

There are other kids out there who give me hope for the future of writing, too. My niece, Madison, who thinks that writing -- whether using words or music -- is something to revel in. The group of teens who approached an English teacher at their high school because there was no creative writing club and they wanted to start one. The two girls in our class who didn't want to share their stories, representatives of the countless kids who keep journals or write poems that never see the light of day, yet allow them to indulge the muse, free from prompts, formulas and rubrics.

These are the kids who will write the books of the future, rendering arguments about e-books vs. print books and traditional publishing vs. self-publishing moot in the face of literature that offers escape, edification and relaxation, no matter its form. But if we don't honor their desire to do something with their words now, their loss will be ours as well. If we teach our kids how to write efficiently, but fail to honor their need to write creatively, we are asking them to turn off a shower meant to sprinkle the world with so much more than topic sentences and concrete details. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be hit with a sprinkling of creative ideas than succession of concrete details.

And to my kids from last week, and my niece, and those high school kids and journal keepers and poem writers: Thanks for sprinkling my world with hope.

A Fresh Start

freephotocc via Pixabay

 A little over a year ago, I started a prompt-based journaling process that I really enjoyed. It was a nice way to start my day, and I didn't have to come up with topics -- they were right there on the page for me.

The book was meant to be a three-year journal but there was only one set of prompts. At first, I liked the idea, thinking that responding to the same questions would let me see how I'd grown. But, as it turned out, I was writing the same answers again. While it's nice to be consistent, revisiting the same questions 365 days later quickly made a practice I'd once enjoyed entirely mundane.

It was time for a change. So, earlier this month, when I was setting my goals for April, I focused on this aspect of my morning routine as something in need of an update. First, I searched for journaling topics on Pinterest, quickly pinning a few to my board and intending to come back to them.

But then I found a Kindle book that offered an embarrassment of riches. With 1000 questions to choose from, I could go for quite a while without repeating questions. And, with so many choices, I could select a prompt that spoke to me instead of just responding to whatever happens to be on the page.

As a writer, I've never been a big fan of writing to prompts, preferring instead to dig into whatever project I'm working on. But, for daily journaling, this practice works quite well. Occasionally, it even feeds my work in progress, or sparks a new idea worth considering. 

Sometimes, when a routine grows stale, it's time for a new routine. Other times, a small tweak can inject new energy into a practice that's worth keeping. Knowing that my morning journal will need updates from time to time, I'm going to keep my eyes open for new prompts (before I need them), perhaps using each new month as an opportunity to seek them out and stockpile them on Pinterest. That way, they'll be waiting for me when I need them to kick off a brand new day.

Do you have a routine that needs shaking up? What's one small step you can take to make that happen?