Mar 28, 2012
This is not to be confused with my own personal NaNoWriMo for April, in which I’ve committed to adding 50,000 words to the first novel in my and Megan’s nine-book series.
As if that’s not enough, I’ve once again committed through BlogHer to join NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month – every month!) for April.
I guess that’s not really a big deal, since I’ve been posting every day for the last seven months. But April’s theme intrigues me.
Poem.
I don’t typically take writing prompts from BlogHer. They’re only there if you don’t know what to write… and when do I never not know what to write?!
But still.
Poem.
I might follow the prompts this time. At least now and then. I might just try my hand at being a part time poet.
As if I don’t have enough writing projects on the board. Literally. And literally!
This is my other commitment: that I’ll post my attempts, finished or not. [Unless they are really, really bad. Then you get nuttin’.]
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Mar 27, 2012
If you haven’t heard that expression, I’m sure you’ve heard something similar.
Think about it.
The Cobbler’s children have no shoes. The Plumber’s pipes are always leaking.
That poor cobbler! His poor children!
All he does is work, work, work for a meager wage, only to come home and have people asking “Please, sir, may I have some more?” (did’ya hear my pitiful little English accent, there?)
I’ve come to believe it’s not that the Cobbler is indifferent. It’s that he has nothing left to give at the end of the day. He’s been nitpicked throughout his entire way home and is spent from the journey of getting there.
When someone asks, “So what is it that you do?” I’m always careful to size them up before I answer, “I’m a writer.”
Mostly, now, I just tell them, “I own my own company.”
But that invariably begs their prompting, “Oh, wow! So what kind of company is it?”
Gulp. Here we go.
“I offer writing, editing, and publishing services.”
“Really?” They say, and instantly their eyes roll to the side as they recall every creative idea they’ve ever had, every family story they’ve ever heard, and every push to reach their own personal goals.
And then they change. From an acquaintance/business associate/banker/grocery store clerk to looking up at me with big eyes and outstretched hands as they gulp… “Can I ask you a question?”
And invariably, they want my knowledge. My input. My business.
But they’re not willing to pay for it.
I can’t tell you how often I’m asked to draft letters, write prompts, help other people with their writing in any fashion… but they’re not willing to pay for it.
So now when people start throwing their ideas to the open air around me, I cut them off. I tell them, for liability and copyright reasons, they really shouldn’t discuss their story ideas in public. With me, or any professional writer, unless they’re under contract. Or unless they know them. And trust them.
And that little bit of information seems to make them trust me more. Which makes them feel more comfortable asking for my advice. But they’re not willing to pay for it.
I wouldn’t dare ask the bank to put their money in my account. Or the grocer to hand over eggs and a gallon of milk.
But when you’re professionally creative, that’s exactly what people expect. Not enough people take into consideration that creativity comes in many forms, and a lot is through observation. I’m always watching people, listening to sounds, paying attention to body language and attitudes. For someone to blatantly throw a story idea my way is like giving a kid the keys to a candy store… and then having her arrested. It just doesn’t make sense!
So here is my blanket advice to anyone seeking advice from a writer: Anyone can write. Even if you have a hard time putting words on paper. Record yourself talking. Tell yourself the story. Then write it out. If your story excites you, it’s a story. Period. Share it, don’t share it. But write it out. And be proud of your attempts.
If you want to be a writer, be a writer. Period.
I can’t guarantee you’ll earn a living at it. I can’t guarantee anyone else will like it. But
if you want to be a writer, be a writer.
Period.
If you ask for anything more than that, well, that’s when this Cobbler throws up a hand and says, “Sorry. I have to go take care of my children.”
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Mar 26, 2012
My friend Ann at Doodles and Jots posts photos and drawings every day and writes about them. This last week especially, I’ve been enamored with her bird photos. I really recommend her website. She always inspires me with her crafts, ideas, photos, and notes.
So when this opportunity arose in my own yard to photograph the Great Outdoors, I couldn’t help but think of her and wonder how she’d caption the following.
Sunday was a rainy day in the High Desert. This time of year, it’s somewhat expected. But this rain came with high winds. The kind that knock down fences and can mangle old roofs.
The kind of wind that blows the rain in one direction only. And after an hour of light rain and heavy winds, the trees are neither wet nor dry.
What do you think of these, Ann?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
I guess that’s not really a big deal, since I’ve been posting every day for the last seven months. But April’s theme intrigues me.
