Sometimes you need a break

What I am writing on tonight is also what I am going through. First off: apologies. I’ve been under a lot of stress and illness lately and haven’t had time to dedicate to my weekly postings.

That said, it made me think about my topic. I haven’t been writing much for myself this semester. I’ve had too much on my plate. But now, finals ending, I find myself flooded with ideas I can barely wait to type out.

People who hand out advice like Tootsie-Rolls will tell you to always write. And you should, as you should practice an instrument or your painting skills. But any artist knows sometimes you need a break from the big stuff. I pushed all of my major stories aside and instead would jot down snippets when I needed to write. Because forcing myself, stressed, anxious and unwilling, was only going to harm my stories and make them convoluted. A frustrated artist always makes frustrated art.

So chill. Step back from what you’re laboring over for a while. When you come back, it’ll still be there. And better for the break.

Today all of my school work has risen over me like a great tidal wave of assignments. Feminist theory, language in Shakespeare, describing fictional interactions with people.

Today I am wondering how important it is to take time out for yourself. I wrote a sarcastic note on tumblr recently about aspiring students who think that their English major is going to make them into a writer. I can tell you from experience, my English major has done little to foster that.

I am a writer though, because at some point I took up the backside of my math notes and began a story. And I fell in love with it. And I could not stop. Soon I wrote on the back of all of my notes, and on envelopes, napkins, scraps.

It is important, of course, to hone your skills to the best they can possibly be. I just worked with a mentor long before I set foot in college. So, I blame little of my development on my schooling. As I am swamped with assignments, lack of sleep, caffeine withdrawals, and all of the irrationality that comes from being a college student (though luckily I don’t live in the dorms, so I still have some solace) I realize that I have not written, let alone read, anything for myself in almost two months.

I begin to feel cracks in my mental state, in my whole perception of my self. And this is why I think you are not a writer unless you truly think you are one, classes notwithstanding. I do not feel human when I am not writing on my own, for no purpose than my own pleasure.

Write on, Octopi. Hopefully I’ll make it through this semester alive!

An Objection to NaNoWriMo

I'm sure a lot of young and aspiring writers are interested in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) which is coming up next month. I personally have never done it.

I admire the thought behind it and certainly wish to encourage those of you who are participating. Good luck to all of you, including my co-writer, Natalie, who wrote on her experiences on it just this Friday.

But, I will not be joining you.

I think the discipline of writing every day is important for every single aspiring writer. I do not think that it makes you a good writer, however. Too often those participating in NaNoWriMo brag about how much they have written as if they deserve an award. I'll be honest, I've never read anyone's work from it that I would say was particularly good. That is completely okay. The important thing to keep in mind is that this is an exercise in discipline and that only. I want to remind you all though, that participating and meeting your goals in NaNoWriMo does not make you good. It simply makes you disciplined.

Over the summer, I forced myself to write every night until I completed a novella I was working on. I had a direction and aim, and with only the smallest goal- to write every night until it was done- I accomplished something I am extremely proud of. Originally, I had no intention to write a novella, I was amazed when I realized what I had conceived as a short story had grown so large. Most importantly, it took me deep into the lives and emotions of my characters, more than I ever had when I was planning. 80 pages is nothing compared to the length of some of the things you all will write during NaNoWriMo.

But, I have written longer stories of which I am less proud. I never strove to write a long story in my life. I strove to write a good one.

As you sharpen your pencils for November, please remember that quantity in writing (or any other artistic format) does not mean quality. I wish you all the best in this exercise!

Getting Criticism

Accept criticism. Seek it out, in fact. I have, over the years, formed trusting relationships with several high school teachers, and now, college professors. I debate whether or not to confess to them that I write (as if I were suddenly ashamed of the thing I am proudest of). When I do, they always seem interested, and I always present them with some of my work. I do this expecting and hoping for criticism. And I receive it. Whereas my friends and readers of my work online may have nothing but praise for a piece, someone with a critical eye can look at it unbiased and tell me exactly what needs improvement. Sometimes it is more than I noticed. Sometimes I hang my head in shame, realizing that a work I thought fantastic was simplistic and childish. Often I learn that my work could become even more fantastic through changes.
It’s not easy to open yourself up to criticism. Many people avoid it. There are some artists out there who, upon receiving honest opinions claim “artistic license” and shut themselves off to all helpful advice.
The first mark of becoming a great artist is admitting and acknowledging that you are not one. If you want to be an artist, it is absolutely necessary to learn to not only respond well, but to desire earnest critiques of your work. If everyone praises you, and you are not truly deserving of that praise, you will inevitably have a rude awakening.
If you do seek out advice, criticism, and earnest commentary, you will find yourself all the better for it

Genre Limitless

The soundest advice I can ever give an artist is don’t limit yourself. When you limit yourself, your art also becomes limited. If you feel that you can only write science fiction or only paint unicorns, then by all means don’t stop writing science fiction and painting unicorns, but never limit yourself by thinking that you cannot also write great realism or paint landscapes. It is true, everyone has a niche or a particular talent, but shoehorning oneself is no way to be an artist. Too few artists, seem to realize that art is, after all, about expanding, not folding in on oneself.
Take, for example, a writer like Edgar Allan Poe. He is now mostly famous for Gothic horror tales and dark poetry, which he did extremely well. But just because he did that one thing well did not mean he limited himself to that. Poe wrote everything. He wrote romantic ballads, he wrote biting criticism, he wrote science fiction, he wrote hilarious parody. Poe did not pen a single horror story and then think, “This is the only thing I am good at, I will end it here.” Arguably, it is because of his work and study of other genres that his horror is so very good. He understood what went into writing and what went into horror in particular that made it work because he could compare them to other genres. And Poe certainly was not the only one. Many filmmakers who have a particular style, say, J.J. Abrams or Tim Burton, will surprise their audience by their work in a completely different film that seems completely out of line with their style. Art, as I said, is an exploration outwards. The world is vast and complex, and so should your art be.

What is realistic?

When I was in high school I took AP English. In one of the classes we read works like Macbeth, Wuthering Heights, Heart of Darkness. They all had very little in common, really. But our teacher insisted they were all works with literary merit. This sparked a discussion of what literary merit really meant. Why was Lord of the Flies in the canon, but not Lord of the Rings?
As a writer, I took the discussion all too personally. Not because it was directed at me, but because it made me question whether, as a person whose writing teetered on the edge of fantasy, science fiction and horror, I wrote anything worthy at all.
This question plagued me further in college, when I took a creative writing course in which we were barred from writing anything not “literary”, and therefore unable to write anything but strict realism. Even happy endings were questioned for realism.
The question shifted imperceptibly in my mind from “am I writing anything worthy?” to “am I writing realistically?” to “what is realistic anyway?” The issue for me stopped being about whether I should give up speculative fiction. For me, works with fantastic elements have been some of the most influential. Of course they touch me in a different way than a piece of realism, but that did, in no way, remove the merit. Point in case is Lord of the Rings, which moves me to tears upon every viewing, and sobs upon reading. Because of the grand scale of the events, the story swept me up more than a slice of life, two character drama. Fantasy and other speculative fiction can reveal greater truths about life for the simple fact that they are not realism, and can therefore speak more frankly than realism in many cases. In adding the element of the fantastic, these separate us from the subject matter enough that we can look at them more objectively than if they are set in our own situation where we come in with our own thoughts and prejudices.
So to those of you who thrive on writing the unreal, take heart, you are are writing something just as important, and on a deeper level, just as “realistic” as literary fiction.

Be a Writer

I’ve been published a handful of times, five times in professional, critically acclaimed collections, once through self publication on the Kindle. I have submitted my work to literary magazines and journals and amassed a tidy pile of rejection letters.
I remember, after my first publication, being told that I was now a “real writer”, and being told the same after I took on the task of self publication, and again by my creative writing professor after I received my first rejection.
All in good fun, but I’ve felt like a real writer all along. When I was ten years old, I got an idea in my head for a movie that simply would not leave me alone. I finally realized that no one would make said film because it was an idea unique to me. It was my story. Soon I began obsessing over the characters and their relationships to one another, and whenever I found myself struggling (I moved cross country twice following year, leaving behind my childhood home and friends), I would return to the world of that story. I had written a novella when I was 6, but never seriously considered, until this idea leapt into my brain and would not release me, that I might be a writer. Once I began penning it in notebooks and on the backs of envelopes, I found myself thinking of myself as a writer. My head would scream with images and dialogue and characters and not let up until the pen had let them out. By the time I was in middle school I found myself, more and more, seeing myself as little else. I wrote constantly, on math notes, during lunch. I could not dampen my resolve in any way, and few things could pull me away when I was writing something that excited me in some way.
These days, over a decade later, I have trained myself to write more responsibly. Sometimes the ideas in my head need tweaking, or brewing before they reach the page. Sometimes I put aside the story so it can mature, and sometimes, with little thought except a vague image, I throw myself into the words, full-force, and do not stop until it is written.
There is no sure-fire way to write, I think. I can write on a schedule, but I do my best work when I wait for true inspiration. Some people need to force themselves or they will never do it. I tend to take a more passionate approach to my writing and get it all out in one burst, but not always. This summer, for example, I forced myself to write 3-5 pages on a story every night and the end result was a murder mystery novella that went in directions I was not expecting.
But all of that is discipline. You do not become a writer when you set a schedule, nor even when you become published. All of these are good things, and writers aspire for these things so that they may share their work with the world. But becoming a writer starts with passion. I do not mean you are constantly scrawling your story on everything you get your hands on- part of any good story are the bits that slow you down and cause you to reflect, and sometimes these moments can make the writing long and laborious. But if you love your story, then it will all be worth it.
And that is the size and shape of a writer: someone who has found something in themselves they feel is so worth saying, they need to share it with the world.

The Changing Frontier

The world is changing. The way people read is changing, the future of the publishing industry and other artistic markets, if you will, have all shifted dramatically just in the last few years. But is this something to be afraid of, or to embrace?
In the new artistic frontier, we are given even more opportunities. Publication is easier than ever! Even I have released a Kindle book of short stories that would simply never see the light of day otherwise.
But the new frontier also means that other mediums have arisen for real and earnest artistic expression.
When you think of video games you likely think of say, Pac-Man or Super Mario Brothers. You likely think of video games, as well, games; challenges to be completed. But just recently the court ruled that video games were a valid art form. It may be hard to tell if you are slogged down in a world of MMOs, but artistic expression has taken off in the video game world dramatically in the last few years. Last spring I played a game that shook me and caused me to question what I really regarded as art. It was a game called The Path developed by Tale of Tales, a forerunner of what is commonly called the “artgames” genre and what they prefer to think of as the “notgames” initiative. The idea is to use the video game technology to cause a real emotional and psychological experience. The Path is just that. There are no goals, no rules, no ticking clock. The game recasts “Little Red Riding Hood” with seven sisters who are given the same instructions, “Go to Grandmother’s House. Stay on the Path.” You can follow these instructions, and the game ends, calling you a failure, despite seemingly achieving your goals. If you do not follow these instructions, and you stray from the titular path, you run the risk of being lost in the woods forever, stumbling across objects that unlock different aspects of each sister’s personality. And then of course, you may run into a wolf, which will end the game as a success. There are no goals, simply exploration into the psyche of each sister as you try and understand her view of the world, what brings her to the woods, and what the wolf means to her. It is a chilling, haunting piece, and certainly, while it is a video game, not like any game I have played before. It is a thought-provoking art piece.

While they have existed since newspapers themselves began, comics have taken a great leap in the digital frontier, with Dark Horse, the largest indie publisher in existence, being a forerunner in the digital world. As any glance at the world of webcomics will show you, comics have done nothing but thrive in the new frontier. While there still exists a cultural stigma that shrugs off this artistic medium as capes and nothing but, they are missing the big picture. Since the 80s, comics have developed into a medium as profound as any. Works like Maus, a dramatic retelling of the Holocaust experience through the comic book medium, won a Pulitzer Prize for literature. And the genre has only expanded. Writers like Neil Gaiman known for his work in genre-bending literature like American Gods have contributed mightily to comic books, working with a number of titles and applying the same genre bending to this medium as he does in literature. His work with The Sandman graphic novels was heavily acclaimed, winning a number of awards, and widely considered a “masterpiece” of the new wave of comic books. And let’s not discredit capes either. Over the years, as 2008 film The Dark Knight should have been an indication, superhero stories themselves have become a valid artistic medium, as in Batman pieces such as Year One, The Long Halloween or the anthology collections, Black and White which has featured some of the most thought-provoking story telling and provocative art I have seen. Any writer in the field should be honored to work in the comic book medium, which is only soaring as the digital world levels the playing field further and makes it easier for more fresh voices to filter into the art field.

The bottom line is, the world is changing for artists and writers and the things we once considered childish can be works of exquisite beauty. Are your talents up to the task?

Write What You Know

“Spend some time living before you start writing. What I find to be very bad advice is the snappy little sentence, ‘Write what you know.’ It is the most tiresome and stupid advice that could possibly be given. If we write simply about what we know we never grow. We don't develop any facility for languages, or an interest in others, or a desire to travel and explore and face experience head-on. We just coil tighter and tighter into our boring little selves. What one should write about is what interests one.”-Annie Proulx

I recently stumbled across this quote by Annie Proulx, and I find it to be very apt. Many aspiring writers are, as she says, coiled tightly into themselves to the point that they cannot relate to the world in their writing. However I think there is something to be said for writing what you know, though I don’t mean it in the way Proulx is taking it . I give “write what you know” as the first piece of writing advice to anyone setting a pen to the page, in fact. Writing is a journey, a journey of self that takes you to that tightly coiled center of your boring little self, but the journey has a point, writing, as much as it goes inward, should bring what is inside out. If you are only going in, that is only half the journey. Writing is expressing those deepest thoughts in a way that others can relate to, a way that can bring your experience to others, rather than drag them into it. If you do not write what you know, then you bring nothing to the table. It is your thoughts and experiences that color your writing, otherwise you are simply another voice screaming in the void. Who cares for your thoughts? Nothing is new under the sun, and heaven help us if you ever find your thoughts to be unique. They are not. But only you come from your set of experiences, and that is what makes the need for you to “write what you know” so important. Have new experiences, learn new things, explore new ideas and locations. But write them from your soul, the thing you know better than anyone else. You can write magnificently on foreign lands, but if you have no experiences or emotions to attach to them, we’d just as well read an encyclopedia..

Creativity in the Midst of Difficulty

I blame my creative outbursts on many things, but all of them are rooted in my childhood. I was always a sickly little girl. I got pneumonia, severe dehydration, and a number of infections when I was six years old, and nearly died. Since then I was in a delicate state for the rest of my childhood, my immune system thrashed beyond repair, I was susceptible to nearly everything that went around, and was hospitalized several more times. Looking back, I see I must have been fairly isolated, but I never felt it at the time. While I had a very loving older brother who was always down to play anything from musketeers to Barbies with me, I learned, early on, the value of entertaining myself, especially when sickness took hold so much that I could not hold a plastic sword or tilt a doll’s head.
I will never forget one day, under a severe fever that left me listless, I was lying on my mother’s bed, staring at a wall, sponge-painted in mauve and green. Soon there formed patterns in it, a monkey, a trio of monkeys on a bicycle, a whole temple that the monkeys must have lived in, then cruel baboons who were invading the monkey temple, then...

Well, you get the idea. I stared at the wall, wracked by fever, for nearly an hour, inventing new and exciting twists in the great monkey-baboon war. I was pulled out of epic struggle only by pure exhaustion.

So what makes this delicate stage of my life so important? Well, like any of the other events in my childhood, it formed the way I think and the way I form ideas. Not everyone comes into their creativity in the same way, and I certainly hope no one else had to go through isolating illness and hallucinatory adventures on a sponge-painted wall to come into theirs.
But this is one example of many of the things that went into forming my imaginative state. There are others, more delightful and more tragic, that I could cite. The point is, and what I want to encourage creative individuals to realize is that all darkness has a light. I could have been a miserable child during my repeated hospitalizations and intense fevers, but I instead explored imaginative worlds, and somewhere in the midst of this period was the first time I took up a pen and wrote a story. It wasn’t simply escapism for me, it was how I made life bearable when I was at death’s door, and how I coped with realizing I was, in a sense, alone in what I was going through.
Everyone won’t go through what I did, and thank goodness, but everyone goes through something. If you explore your creativity, you will never go through those things alone.

Soul Books

Exploring your universe

Today is my birthday so I find myself thinking of some of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. As a writer, I am always hungry for words. You can’t really be a writer if you are not.
Some of my favorite gifts have been books given to me by other people, especially that which is their favorite book.
One of the most treasured books I own was given me by my writing mentor, a liberal Jewish lesbian who I had very little in common with except a shared love of words. Upon my 18th birthday, she presented me with a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. I had already read it, but she told me that, in college she carried it with her until it was beaten up and abused, and she had written in the cover, encouraging me to do the same. I have not fulfilled this, but I have admirably beaten it up through multiple readings, each time growing a bit more and understanding the book more fully from not only the protagonist’s and the author’s points of view, but from my writing mentor’s. She presented the book to me, not just as a piece of required reading, but as a piece of herself, something that she could let me in on, like a small gem of her soul.
Soon after she presented me with that book, I began to understand the power of giving books, not that you necessarily think your friend or family member will love, but that you love. To this day, one of the most common gifts I have given anyone is Till We Have Faces, a novel by C.S. Lewis. It is a beautiful retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth with a strong historical flavor and a brilliantly crafted female protagonist. But I very rarely give it to a person with any description beyond, “this is my favorite book”.
You see, when you give your favorite book to someone, you are, in a way, letting them in on the big secret of your soul, unveiling yourself, so to speak. They will read you into the book and try to work out the appeal. If they are a good reader, they will understand, even if the book doesn’t speak to them in the same way, why it does speak so strongly to you.
So I encourage you, writers and artists alike, to let yourself love a book so much it becomes a part of your soul. Then I encourage you not to hoard it all to yourself, but to share that most beautiful aspect of yourself with others, so in that way, you can make them a bit more beautiful too.

Art That Goes Nowhere

If there’s one I notice in upstart artists above all others, it is an attempt to be increasingly obscure.
All too often, I will wander into the art gallery at my school to see work of such a kind that I can tell the artist was simply trying too hard to be deep or unique, forsaking true depth in the process. I viewed an extremely disconcerting piece last year that consisted of a deer skin stretched out on a plank, with a video of someone repeatedly drilling holes into a deer carcass playing above it.
Unsettling, to be sure, but I also instantly felt that there was little more to the piece than that, regardless of how much effort may have been put into it. In the modern world of art, it seems that people starting out have a “free for all” mentality that can be extremely stunting to true artistic talent. And this is by no means limited to visual arts, I see this in writing as well.
The bottom line to me is, art should be made for a reason greater than “being art”, unless you happen to be a member of the Dadaist movement. The Dadaist movement is something to look up on your own, if you are not familiar with it, but a ten cent definition is that their intent is more or less to make fun of ill-defined art by creating parodies of ill-defined art, which in turn, has confused the art world more, by causing people to create “serious” Dadaist art, an homage of a parody.
You can instantly see the problem. When you have no idea what art is to you, art becomes meaningless, a parody within a parody. There is no point to creating something like this, not even to yourself.
As I said, this is not limited to visual art. I have read experimental writings that read like blogs on speed, filled with words on everything- but no thought. They are empty, meaningless words, sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly, but completely devoid of thought. This is artless art that is trying so hard to be art, it actually manages to fail, and fail badly, without a hint of Dadaist irony.
It is one thing to throw yourself into your art with passion, it is another thing not to let your passion go anywhere. In frustration, you can draw spirals endlessly, or you can take that frustration, observe it, and try to recapture it in a form that explores your thoughts, a sort of exercise not only of learning to analyze your own emotions (for all art comes from a distinctly emotional point of view), but also to make yourself a better artist, in whatever medium you work with.
I am not saying you must always have a deeper meaning for your art- one of my favorite books is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, which has gleefully avoided deeper analysis for over a hundred years because it exists simply as a work of nonsense. But all of the same, this nonsense (which is in fact a genre form), does have some thought behind it. All throughout Alice’s ridiculous journey are subtle jabs at Victorian social order, capital punishment, and the school system, along with some math and a fair amount of wordplay. Alice may not be a “deep” work, in the way we are used to thinking of “deep”, but it is still a highly sophisticated and intelligent work.
While Lewis Carroll was not writing with a clear-cut motive, the intelligence inherent in his work also shows he was not simply throwing his art up against the wall and hoping it stuck. Aspiring artists in every medium seem to misconstrue the ideas. If you are to set out to create- create something worth creating, put some real thought and effort into it. Do not simply throw something against the artistic wall and try to ascribe a deeper meaning to it. Meaning you attach in hindsight does not create a meaningful work, regardless of the amount of time you may have spent on it. Rather, create with a sense of meaning, and even if you do not ascribe some kind of deep philosophy to your piece, and your effort will show through, making your work have true merit.

Study of the Masters

If you have been an artist of any sort (be it writing, music, painting, photography etc.) for any amount of time, you will have probably noticed that as much as you draw inspiration from the real world- and certainly you should, inspiration also takes the form, very often, of imitation. The trouble is what to imitate, and knowing the limitations of that imitation.
Looking back on my early work I see, quite shamelessly, everything that I love in my writings from my teenage years, from creatures in Star Wars to dialogue from Spirited Away.
What can I say? My early pieces are unpolished, and sometimes downright theft occurred.
Imitation is healthy in all art forms. Studying the works of people who are your betters- and certainly many people will be- is a natural part of learning to become an artist.
A wise artist never stops studying, and I will never believe I have arrived at a place where I will regard myself as a great writer. I will continue to study my betters. And no matter how good my writing could one day become, I will never believe I am above those writers who I regard as the masters.
So what is the difference between shameless imitation and the study of a master? Discernment.
One of my favorite authors is C.S. Lewis, who was a master of many genres of writing include children’s fiction, science-fiction, poetry, philosophical essays and dramatic historical fiction, to name a few. I regard the man as a master writer, as a sculptor may regard Michaelangelo or a painter Van Gogh. I read Lewis for pleasure, but I also study his form, his use of language, and the way he combines his ideas in the particular style unique to himself. I try to glean what I can from the way he writes, and bring it into my own writing. There is just one problem. Just as you, are not Michaelangelo or Van Gogh, I am not C.S. Lewis. Nor am I any other writer except myself. Much as I admire Lewis, I am a completely different writing, fed off of different writers from Lewis himself. My style evolved in a different way, as did my use of words and imaginative input.
When I first started writing in a serious way, I’d find that if I had read the works of Lewis or some other writer I greatly admire with a distinctive style (there are many) my work afterwards would take on that style. I was attempting to mimic their voice, their use of words, imagery, or even sometimes, their very story structuring, and make it work for me. It did not.
The first part of learning to properly study a master- and there always is a master in your field- is accepting your own work, and moreover, accepting you will never be Van Gogh or Michaelangelo. You are you, dear artist. You are not another. Your own history, both creatively and personally, affects the way you see the world in a way that is distinct from everyone else- including the masters. That is what you have to bring to the table. That is what makes your work worth sharing. Your own uniqueness, is why you must create in the first place. Yours. Your own.
When you accept that, you can channel what you have gleaned from the master in your own way.
And of course, once you have accepted yourself, there is nothing wrong with some allusion after all, an offering to the gods of your genre.

Just Listen

One of the most under-discussed aspects of being a writer is the need to listen. In fact, this goes for artists in any medium. Writing, like any art, is the attempt to reflect life. If you do not engage with life, then your art will be lifeless, and if you do not listen to human beings, who your work is about and aimed towards, then you, quite simply, have no business holding a pen.

Of course, there is a problem with listening, many people are less enlightened than an aspiring writer believes himself or herself to be. People are not always going to grasp your work, even if you are writing about common things. Naturally not everyone is going to get it when you are writing about European politics using psychedelic cannibal monkeys as allegory. My mother, bless her, reads my poetry with a look of confusion, and questions me endlessly about what the fantasy aspects in my short stories mean. I have overheard her saying to people, “My daughter is a writer,” but then following it apologetically by saying, “she writes fantasy.” Listening to something like this can be discouraging, especially if you are starting out, but it is necessary and healthy. If you write work so obscure and vague that everyone raises their eyebrows in the first stanza or paragraph, it is time to rethink a strategy. As I said, art reflects life, and if the reflection is too blurred to understand, there may be more of a problem with the writer than with the audience.

This is not to say, however, that you must give up your wild imagination and only write realist two-character dramas set in highly described and mundane settings. I still write fantasy, despite my mother’s lack of enthusiasm. But I did take a note from my mother’s book and attempting to focus the fantasy, so that I could expand past the genre label. I want to be able for any reader to look at my work and simply enjoy it, and not have to apologize for the genre or imagery. That is key. If you are too caught up in self-appeal, you may be missing the point. I’ll never forget the time my friend described a story of mine enthusiastically to her family as being “a fantasy, but not like you think. It’s dark and it’s really about this man.” Whereas the genre, alone could be a turn-off to those who it doesn’t appeal to, the depth that stretched the genre was appealing to her family. Hearing my friend describe my work in such terms also changed the way I viewed my own work. I, knowing my genre limitations, used to never consider myself capable of literary writing. But the more I listened to readers, their criticisms and their compliments, I saw that I was heading down a literary path, obscure imagery and genre labeling be damned. This does not, of course, mean I have arrived, but it means that I am off to a good start by learning, not to give up on my passions, but to constantly challenge myself to listen to readers, the people who writing, after all, is for.

Writer’s Block Home Remedies: Fiction Edition

I am sure most of us have been on a marvelous adventure, writing our little hearts out through our fingers, and CRACK!!! You break your face on that nasty wall. Here are some home remedies that may help you break that wall down faster.

This wall has come to be known as the Writer’s Block Wall, but I have to say, this is too kind of a name. I was thinking more along the lines of @#$@#$ wall, or @#$@#$ @#$@#, or, dare I say it? #@@#$@$ @#$@#@#$.

I think I need a bath…dirty…

Here are the top five methods I use to take down that wall brick by heavy brick.

1. BREATHE FRESH AIR! Most of us, myself included, try to sit before our work, and stare, as if the wall will limp away frightened. That is most likely not going to happen. Try going out for a walk, maybe go to your local ice-cream shop, and get a double-chocolate, brownie sundae with extra nuts, no? Just me? Well, wherever you decide to go take your handy notebook.
2. WRITE SHIT! Just write. Don’t think about the sentence structure, or grammar, just write. Sometimes all you need is to let the poison run its course. Soon enough you will find yourself thinking of other things, daydreaming if you’re lucky, but all in all you will find yourself a bit less tense, and hopefully more inspired.
3. PHOTOGRAPH COLLECTION! Keep a folder on your computer, or device, and fill it with interesting photos that somehow connect to your story line. The most common are landscapes, people, and art. When you are feeling drained of muse juice take a look at a photograph which most resembles your current scene (or not,) and place yourself within this environment. Type away
4. PLUG IN, LOOK UP! Take that mp3 player, and plug yourself in. Let the music take hold of your mind, and imagine yourself in a different world. Put yourself in your character’s shoes, walk a little in them. Play out scenes in your head, and like a roll of film cut and paste to your choosing. Play with the dialogue, add or delete anything you want, but make sure to keep tabs on those lyrics, they might just inspire your story’s next move.
5. WRITE SOMETHING ELSE! Most try to shy away from this option, and with good reason. This option might fill your writing folder with half-finished stories, but in the end you will be writing. And that should always be your goal.

Keep writing, don’t stop. Write shit, but don’t stop.