Re-Writing My Picture Book WIP (the Way I Really Want To)

Here's a secret: whether I'm writing a query letter, putting together a manuscript package, or just drawing a tree, every time I "follow the rules" I fail. Yet every time I take matters into my own hands and do it "my way," I get a positive response. So why didn't I listen to my own advice when it came to writing my most recent children's picture book? 

The answer is pretty simple: I got scared. Scared of doing it wrong (there's so many great picture books out there, how could I possibly get it right?); scared of looking like I didn't know what I was doing (even after studying a zillion books on marketing and submission); and especially scared of scaring little children with my potentially traumatizing text. I didn't trust myself one little bit.

The situation was made much worse when I attended a conference on writing for children. My reason for going was to learn how to shape up my manuscript to best fit the market. To make sure I understood what the editors were asking for, I took careful notes: 

• They wanted stories with a "Mama" character. Okey-dokey, my main character did have a mama--check that as a "yes, can do." 
• They wanted lots of visceral gritty-growly "noise words" (Buzz? Kerplunk? Smash? Does "meow"count?). 
• They particularly enjoyed spooky-creepy stuff (no worries about traumatizing the tots). 
• And they especially requested anything that reflected bad behavior. (Hmm. I don't like bad behavior . . . very much.)

In other words, they really wanted authors to get those childhood frustrations and thwarted emotions onto the page and out in the open. The only problem was, none of their requirements fit my manuscript, Where are the Cats of Barcelona?, a story that takes a little girl through the beautiful city of Barcelona in search of a kitten to call her own. Other than Mama, I didn't have any of the must-have requirements: no tantrums, no ghosts, and definitely no biting, scratching, or rude words. Suddenly my book seemed like a major loser.

To compensate for these glaring omissions I began to rewrite my story, this time with as much awfulness as I could squeeze into the limited word length. Short of Mama getting drunk, it was a pretty strong effort. The only problem was it wasn't MY story. Mama ended up being a total wet blanket nay-sayer; my main character morphed into a whiny spoiled brat, and even the cats she found weren't very attractive. Now, re-reading the manuscript two years later, I'm not surprised it was rejected more times than I care to admit.

The good news is I've now put all that good advice thoroughly behind me. In its place I'm happy to report that I've gone back to my original version: a story that is sweet, dreamy, and best of all--quiet. It's the perfect read-along bedtime story--the one kind of book all the editors who spoke at the conference agreed will never go out of fashion!

There are still some things I want to work on such as perfecting my line breaks and getting the flow just right, but these are things that center on design and craft. My current revisions are based on what will suit the story, not to pull in elements that supposedly fit the market but have nothing to do with me or my book. And who knows, my next step might even be to attempt the illustrations!

Tip of the Day: The first reader you should always write for first is yourself. Whether you're writing a 600-page historical epic or a 600-word fairy tale, write for you! The only thing that will ever truly make the market happy at the end of the day is good writing, so don't be afraid to edit, tweak, and polish, but say what you want to say before you pull out the red pen. Always stay true to your original, heartfelt vision.

Fall in Love with Your Personal Project

Happy Valentine's Day! And what could be a better day for celebrating all the passion and love we pour into our manuscripts, journals, canvases, and sketchbooks alike? However, as much as we might be crazy in love with our work destined for publication and gallery showing, how much attention are you giving to a "personal project"? You know, the one that might never end up on a bookstore shelf or win a prize in a juried exhibition? Chances are, it's probably your very most favorite. I know my personal projects certainly are.

In case you're wondering what exactly is a personal project, I thought I'd start by explaining what it is not: it's not a dud. It's not something so bizarre or scary you keep it hidden, afraid of what people will think of it or your sanity. And it's certainly not something so poorly done that you're ashamed of it. Rather, it's a project you love in spite of the market, an effort that you attempt fearlessly, trusting your instincts, knowledge, and personal taste to carry you right through to the end. In other words, it's your absolute heart's desire: The book you want to read. The painting you want to hang on your own wall. The volume of sketches that feed your soul and imagination like nothing else you have ever encountered.

Often a personal project can take the form of an art journal or similar, there's usually a more structured process going on. For instance, you might want to create a children's picture that you both write and illustrate, as well as design the size, format, and covers from front to back including the end papers. Every single element of the book is uniquely yours. Other examples of personal projects could be things such as:

• A themed and beautifully executed sketchbook. It could be based on a nature study, birds, travel experiences, fashion . . . whatever you love.
• An experimental or graphic novel along the lines of House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.
• A blog or website. Yes, your blog can definitely be a personal project, used as a place to explore, try out new ideas using new technologies, testing and challenging your digital skills.
• A series of craft items: pottery, jewelry, sewing, weaving, etc. Any project using materials, colors, or mediums you would usually bypass for not being "commercial" enough but that you've always wanted to try.

Some of my own personal projects have fallen into all of these categories: my altered book project (still a work-in-progress); my "Silly Little Birds" sketchbook; my "30 Days of Kimono" art journal, and my current Asian-inspired painted ceramic work. I have no idea if any of them will ever be "For Sale" but they are all projects I had to work on, or lose my sense of self.

The best part of working on a personal project is it can get you through times of creative slump or ennui. As my husband loves to say: A change is as good as a rest, and working on a project miles out of your comfort zone for no real reason other than you love it can be a creative life-saver. If you're unsure of where to start or how to decide on a project, consider some basic guidelines:

• Choose a subject you love, but have never felt confident enough to sell.
• Use your personal project as a way to create daily rituals, discipline, and find pleasure in going to your studio or home office. This can be especially valuable during the times you're not feeling as inspired or motivated as you'd like to be.
• Refrain from avoiding the work or even beginning it because it's "not for sale." Instead, unless you're on some impossibly tight deadline to complete a commercial project, try to give your personal project top priority. It's a great warm-up exercise before returning to other manuscripts or assignments you're working on.
• It's fine to dive into the middle of a project, wanting to do all the fun parts first, but try to give the project a sense of coherency with an eventual beginning, middle, and end. Work toward giving the project a sense of being a finished body of work. Don't cut corners, become lazy, or feel you can be stingy with supplies because "no one else will see it." 

Most of all, keep in mind that your personal project should reflect the very best of you and your creativity. Make it shine, make it sing, and give it as much TLC as you can spare. Go for it!

Tip of the Day: Although the whole idea of a personal project is to make it personal, I'll bet you a silk pajama (to borrow from Ogden Nash) that some of your favorite published work started out as a project the author or artist wanted to keep private and not for sale. At the end of the day, there's nothing wrong with submitting or selling what began as a personal project if that's what seems appropriate when you're finished. Just don't let the idea of selling scare you from starting or falling into the "perfection" trap, one that keeps you from expressing yourself fully with all the individuality you can muster.

Break Out of Your Shell!

"Mussel Shells"
Faber-Castell Polychromos Pencils
on Canson Pastel Paper

The drawing challenge from my color pencil group this month was to draw seashells. As you can see, I tackled four of them including the inside surfaces. Despite my initial resistance (too hard, too repetitive, not my thing, etc., etc.), I learned a lot from this exercise, much of which can be also be applied to my writing life, starting with practice, practice, practice. 

Thanks to my reluctance to start, I procrastinated like a pro. I answered email, cleaned my house, wrote more poetry; anything to avoid drawing. Finally the day came when I either had to get to work or go to my group empty-handed, aka "being a quitter." Not my favorite option. So with deep misgivings I started in with just one. Hmm. Not so bad. So I tried another. And another. And before I knew it I had drawn all four. Hey, I did it! Which made me realize:

1. Repetition is valuable. One of the main things holding me back was fear of boredom: how could I draw four similar shells without losing my mind? The truth, however, was very different: first, the shells were NOT similar, and second, by repeating the process several times my technique improved as I got to the last shell. Practice, practice, practice! Whether you want to improve your drawing, write exciting action scenes or learn the intricacies of arranging a pantoum, it takes more than one attempt to get it right.
2. Don't hide away in your "I can't do it" shell. Rather than setting yourself up for failure by aiming for the most incredible work in the whole of human history, start a dreaded project by drawing or writing in your most basic style: just get some shapes or words down on paper. Once that's done, tweak a little here, add a little there--before you know it your right-brain will be engaged and intrigued with all the possibilities. At this point, I dare you to stop.
3. Shells make great writing and art journal prompts. The first time I wrote about a seashell in my art journal was an entry about playing with my grandmother's collection of shells from the Gulf of Mexico when I was a little girl. I loved holding those shells to my ear and "listening to the sea." You might have a similar memory, or you might want to write about your first trip to the beach, or your own collection of seaside finds. On the fiction side, including a seashell in a short story, poem, or novel could trigger all sorts of themes, associations, and plot twists--especially if the shell is rare and valuable!
4. Artwork isn't always about drawing. How about brushing some ink or paint onto a shell and using it as a stamp in your art journal or mixed-media piece? Or pressing a shell into earthen or polymer clay? Drilling a hole into the top of a shell to add to a jewelry piece? Or simply painting and/or collaging the shell itself for a whole new look? 
5. Using shells for meditation and mindfulness. No matter how small or seemingly insignificant, there's something profound about a seashell. Whether it's the patterning, the colors, or just the fact it once housed and protected some small and distant creature, shells make a good start to pondering life's mysteries. Add them to household altars, your writing room or studio, your garden or any other kind of creative sanctuary you like to visit. Personally I like to keep them all over the house in various nooks and crannies. 

Shells have always fascinated me, but that's no reason to take them literally and hide out inside one of my own. The drawing challenge for July is to draw green leaves. I'm so fired-up by the prospect I'm going to start and base an entire art journal on the subject. No hesitation, no holding back, just going for it. Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme! 

Tip of the Day: One of the things I love about drawing is how it relaxes and pulls me into what I could almost call a different dimension. Memories; new ideas for writing; the book I'm currently reading: my mind seems to just float along with the tide. While I was working on my seashell piece I was reminded of one of my favorite books that I hadn't thought of for a long time: Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea. If you've never read it, or haven't read it for a long time, I can't think of a better text to check out for summer inspiration. Enjoy!

Trust Your Manuscript; Trust Yourself

Several years ago when I started this blog, one of the early posts I wrote was titled It's All About Trust. This morning I woke up realizing it still is--creative work really is all about trusting your gut, your instincts, your ability, and especially the work itself.

For the last twelve months I've been avidly editing and preparing my new novel The Abyssal Plain for submission. I'm now in the beginning of those first submissions and initial contacts. There's just been one problem: an irritating, exasperating, and very worrisome question I've had about one of the manuscript's plot points. Midway in the story, one of my female characters suddenly becomes antagonistic toward one of the male characters. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why, but it seemed the natural way for the narrative to go, so I let it ride. 

That said, I didn't really like the way I left this thing dangling. I couldn't understand why my character became mean, then meaner, then almost unbearable in her hostility toward this other character. I tried to blame it on her moodiness, but that just seemed so unfair to her as well as the poor male character who had to bear the brunt of her anger. Oh, well, I thought. No one will notice (fingers crossed). Keep calm and submit the manuscript anyway. An answer will come. Strangely enough, it did!

This morning I woke up with the answer so loud and clear it made me not only laugh in sheer relief, but sent me running to my office to write down what is basically a small paragraph of insight and explanation that clarifies everything. How, I kept asking myself as I scribbled away, could I not see what the conflict was? After all, it was right there in the manuscript waiting to be seized and expanded upon.

In other words, I'd already done the groundwork, I was just too caught up in other manuscript concerns to see or appreciate it. Thank goodness for my subconscious. Thank goodness for sleep. Because all I had to do was be present, agree to work on the manuscript no matter what, and believe an answer would appear, which it did--in glowing (and logical) technicolor. Having this answer appear at this exact moment has changed my entire attitude toward both the manuscript and submitting it. Let's just call it "increased confidence." Whew.

A few of the things I've learned from this experience are:

• Whenever you're stuck on a plot-glitch or other irritating problem, just keep working past whatever it is. Don't stop and don't give up. Keep moving forward!
• Learn to be comfortable with mystery. If the answer doesn't appear right away, or even a few months later--trust that it will, somehow, somewhere. You may have to wait for some outside help, such as a critique partner or an editor asking, "What does this mean?" Or, "Why is this event happening?" But that could be the perfect time to receive your best and most true answer. 
• Don't be afraid of the extra work weaving your answer into the manuscript may entail. In my case it's just going to take a new paragraph or two, and then some additional dialogue lines and tags. But it also means changing my pagination, printing out new manuscript copy, fresh proofreading, etc. And that's okay--this new info helps my story to make sense and will encourage a reader to keep reading without having to stop and figure out what's going on. (And then forget all about reading my story while they pick up something more coherent to read.)

The next time you're stuck in a manuscript, or any other type of creative endeavor--artwork, beading, house-renovating included--concentrate on trust rather than worry. You'll find a way. I can trust it.

Tip of the Day: "Sleeping on a problem" really does work! I might not have been thoroughly aware of how much I wanted an answer to my manuscript question, but it must have been in my psyche somewhere, ready to appear. 

One good tip I'm reminded of is to write down any question you might have about any life situation, creative or otherwise, and put it under your pillow. Then forget all about it. People who've tried this tell me they wake up with the answer as vividly as I did today. How about you? Any tips on the subject to share? Let me know! Happy dreaming/problem-solving.

12 Ways to Break Through Writer's Block

Yay! Our first question from the first winner of my blog birthday giveaway:

LadyDBooks.

Diana asks: "How do you deal with writer's block?" A great question, especially now that Nanowrimo has finished and some of us may be feeling completely burnt-out.

To answer Diana, I think it's important to define "writer's block." For me, it's whatever makes me want to run away from my writing:

• Perfectionism.
• Fear that my words won't match my vision.
• Fear of not making the right choices.
• Fear that I'm going too slow.
• Fear of submission.
• Fear of my own voice.
• The WIP is just too big and ambitious.

Grrr! So how to burst through those blocks? How about:

 1. Collage. A stack of old magazines, a glue stick, a damp clean-up cloth, and some kind of paper or journal can keep me happy and "writing" for hours. There's something so dreamy and magical about the process, I could almost say it's the answer for every life problem in existence! Whether it's a scene, a character's wardrobe, or the solution to a plot-hole, collage can save the day.

2. Change genres. It's good advice to "write what you love to read," but sometimes you can too easily compare yourself to your favorite writers, and bingo--you're blocked. Try reading and/or writing in a genre you've never met before.

3. Make an appointment to meet yourself somewhere outside the house or usual work place. I particularly like bookstore cafes, but laundromats, hotel lobbies, and waiting rooms make great places to sit down and "just write" without the need to explain myself.

4. Take an old manuscript and tackle it from a different approach . An old,  unsold manuscript can feel like a millstone, one that's sapping your energy for fresh work. So start over: maybe the wrong character is telling the story. Or maybe you need several points of view. Perhaps present tense will add a new tension. Experiment.

5. Write with a friend. Writing with a buddy or a writer's group is a great way to stay productive. Go for at least an hour (no talking!); read your work to each other, then write for another hour.

6. Use a book of prompts such as A Writer's Book of Days by Judith Reeves for a month. Decide how many pages to write per day (5 is a good number), but don't re-read any of your writing until the end of the month.

7. At the end of the month, find the connections between your entries. The mind loves to create order out of chaos. Reading through a month's worth of freewriting is an excellent way to find a theme, a character, or a setting you want to explore more deeply.

8. What's on your mind? Try some letters to the editor, or concentrate on writing blog comments as a daily writing exercise.

9. Start a new blog on a topic you love, but don't usually write about. Save and print out your entries--submit them as articles, or turn them into a complete book!

10. Forget about publication. Get a special journal, pens, whatever makes you happy, and just write--anything. It's your writing, written for yourself and nobody else.

11. Write about your resistance to writing. What's stopping you from writing? Let it all out. Interview your writing and your characters. Ask them what the problem is. The answers may surprise you--and get you writing again.

12. Keep a "still-life" journal or notebook. Instead of worrying about transitions, plots, and character arcs, spend some time just writing descriptions. Take a cue from still-life paintings: what objects are included? What's the setting? Mood? Why? What is the artist trying to say? Keep adding entries even on the days you're writing full steam ahead.

Tip of the Day: As lofty as "write every day" may sound, the truth is you don't always HAVE to write to be a writer. Enjoying and participating in the world around you can be just as important, and necessary, as a daily word count. Read, draw, travel, visit antique or thrift stores, go for a walk, observe and play. Taking regular time-outs goes a long way to preventing creative block. And be sure to pay a visit to LadyDBooks--rest and renewal guaranteed!

Life is a Playground

When I was little, I could play all day. ALL DAY. From the minute I woke up to the second I fell into bed, I was in play mode. For weeks on end I could live in a world of my own, a fantastic landscape filled with talking animals, altered realities, and pith helmets. (I always had to wear my imaginary pith helmet.) Not that I didn't get into trouble; I don't think a single report card ever went home without "Too much daydreaming" scrawled across the bottom. Sigh.

Report cards aside, I still managed to grow up into a fairly disciplined person, so much so that when I made the comment in my writer's group that "life was a school," I was somewhat surprised when another member countered with, "Actually, life is a playground."

When I started thinking about it, however, the idea made a lot of sense to me. Playgrounds, as I remembered them, were a place to let off steam, have snacks, and learn to take turns with the ball. They were a place to sit quietly and talk with my friends, or else to go find a team and run around and scream--as loudly as possible.

Being allowed out of the classroom was a reward for enduring what seemed like endless hours of boredom and repetition: math, spelling, "current events." Instead of rulers and leaky pens there were slides and swings, scraped knees, split lips, and badge-of-honor Band-Aids. When it rained we couldn’t go outside but we invented indoor games and turned our classroom into a makeshift playground. And when nobody was there on the weekend, the empty fields could sometimes feel like the loneliest place on earth--a feeling I rather liked when it conjured up visions of ghosts and captured fairy princesses.

So what made me turn my back on the playground? Perhaps it was the fear of looking too happy, or even foolish. Real writers frowned and worried about their manuscripts. They complained about editors and constant rewrites. Yet I should have known better: literary history is ripe with successful fools: wise fools, holy fools, jesters, clowns, Nasrudin and Silly Billy. In the tarot deck, the fool can be the smartest person in the room. So shouldn't we all be fools for our art? Fool around. Just fooling. April Fools. Feast of Fools. Ship of Fools.

The best way, I realized, to get back to the playground is to examine what is so much creative fun we're embarrassed to admit it. It can be anything: from crayons to mud pies aka ceramics. It can even be an obsession with cats.

Some of the benefits of returning to a playful mindset can include:

• Play is infectious. Editors and readers will pick up on, and appreciate, your ability to entertain.
• Constantly marketing or submitting work for publication or other venues can be depressing if you're not seeing the results you want. It's good to take time off from relentless social networking and always being "on."
• You can withstand rejection and negative critiquing better when you remember that you started all this to have fun. (They don't call 'em "screenplays" for nothing!)

Tip of the Day: When’s the last time you chose the playground over work? If it's been a while, you might want to ask yourself why. Write a journal entry, perhaps in the form of an unsent letter to whatever, or whoever made you stop playing. Or perhaps you'd prefer to create a collage mapping out some future play dates. Be sure to take them!


 

Life Lessons From a Drawing Class

On Tuesday night my experimental drawing class came to an end.  It was both sad (no more Tuesday night socializing with like-minded new friends) and liberating:  "Okay, you've learned all about mixed media--now go make art!  You can do it!"

Besides acquiring a whole arena of fresh knowledge regarding techniques and materials (I absolutely fell in love with Pan Pastels and Stonehenge paper) I feel I learned several important lessons that can apply not only to drawing and painting, but to the way we approach any creative pursuit--including the art of living!  Here's my top twelve:

1. Be patient.  There is no magic button.  Life—and especially creativity—is not a foot race.  Take your time; trust that the process will work--it will.  Eventually!
2. Work on several pieces at once.  While you’re waiting and deciding about how to continue or enhance a piece, start working on something new.  Ideas will seed each other, bringing inspiration and giving you a strong sense of productivity.
3. Start.  Stop.  Wait.  Start.  Then stop again.  It’s a good idea to break your work into segments.  Once you’ve added a new element to a piece, let it sit for awhile before you rush to the next “improvement.”
4. The marks we make clue us into our natural direction.  Because I’m a writer, I tend to love line.  Cross-hatching with a sharp pencil, swirls of charcoal depicting hair and fur, I enjoy elegant mark making.  A knitter in the class gave her work the smooth, even order of a “knit, purl” pattern.  Another woman, a beader, worked with circles.  Art reveals our natural rhythms and preferences.  Go with them. 
5. Instead of saying you don't like a piece, say "it's not finished."  Which is another way of saying “don’t give up.”  It’s a journey—not every stop along the way is going to be "oh, wow!"
6. Put your work on the wall and live with it for a while.  Along with #1 and #3, let everything you do sit for a while and breathe.  Ask the piece what it needs (if anything).  What does it want to say?  Listen and don't rush to judgment or completion.
7. Your work is sacred, but it's not precious.  Honor the process, but don’t be afraid of letting the work go when it's time.  Most pieces and drafts are simply stepping stones and tools to guide you toward a more important work or truth.  Once they’ve served their purpose, thank them and move on.
8. Just make a mark.  Start.  With anything.  A red slash.  A green dot. A woman in a shopping mall.  Add a feather.  A leaf.  A crying baby.  Find the story.  One idea really does lead to another.
9. Be comfortable with awkwardness.  Appreciate the adolescent in your artwork or manuscript:  nose and ears too big for the face; gangly arms and legs, excruciating shyness—we were all thirteen once upon a time! And guess what? We all grew into swans and flamingos and eagles in spite of thinking we’d never be anything more than frozen turkeys.  Recognize your work will go through the exact same life stages we all do—every one of them special and engaging in its own right.
10. Take risks.  You’ll never know unless you try.  Throw that paint! Put a poem in Chapter Seventeen!  Write from the dog’s point of view!
11. You can't ruin anything.  There isn’t a single piece of art or writing that can’t be fixed.  Even the worst "accident" (torn paper, spilled ink, smeared paint, the dog’s POV didn’t work) can be turned into the starting point for a new—and often more exciting—direction.
12. There's plenty more where this came from.  We are all creative beings with limitless access to a universe of possibility.  Never fear running dry, or feeling you have to hoard your ideas and skills for “the real thing” (whatever that is).  The universe is simply bursting with grand ideas, and all of them are yours for the taking.  Give everything you work on your total best, your full attention, your most interesting angle—the well will be refilled long before you could ever possibly reach “empty.” 

Tip of the Day:  As the people around me can testify, I did a lot of complaining during the early stages of this particular class:  "It's nutty!  Everything I do looks like dog vomit!"  It took me nearly all eight weeks of class time to believe that any of the above lessons were true, let alone usable.  In the end I finally threw caution to the wind.  Here's the result:

Keep Playing!!

Scenes from an Experimental Art Class

 

For the last five weeks I've been taking an art class:  Experimental Drawing.  And what an experiment it's been!  The best way I can describe what we're doing is by calling it "free painting," the visual equivalent of "freewriting." 

Personally I've found the approach both difficult and oddly liberating--a constant struggle between wanting to create the "picture in my mind" and then having to give in to what the images dictate.  It's a lot like wanting to write a contemporary romance only to have it turn into a Norse saga in iambic pentameter with science fiction elements.  All you can do is stand back and say:  "Oooh-kaaay..."

On a more technical note, the materials we are using for this grand experiment include:

• Stonehenge and watercolor papers, as well as Bristol board.
• Acrylic paints.
• Watercolor paints.
• Pastels in both stick and loose, powdered forms.
• Acrylic mediums/grounds/gels.
• Fixative.  (Lots of fixative between each layer of pastel or paint.)
• Ink.
• Collage papers.
• Graphite pencils.
• And just about anything else that makes, or takes, a mark.

So here's my small gallery of works to date (including the picture at the top.  I like that one in particular because I threw in some words: "The Art of Placing."  I love combining text with visuals.)

Perhaps the hardest thing for me right now is to stop assigning meaning to the work, in other words, to simply let the pieces be.  They are what they are:  surprising, foreign, challenging, and miles--light years--away from the Polyvore creations that usually illustrate my blog posts. 

I still have four classes left to attend, including one tonight, and I must say I'm filled with curiosity to know what's coming next.  It's kind of like waiting for the next chapter of a very strange book--one that I'm writing in my sleep!  Stay tuned. 

Tip of the Day:  S-t-r-e-t-c-h.  Take a class, join a group, buy a how-to book in a new-to-you subject.  It may not be in your comfort zone, but there's nothing like a little creative risk-taking to liven up the "tried and true" and get your mind going in a brand new--and exciting--direction.

It's All About Trust

Sometimes it’s hard to believe in our writing or that it will amount to anything but a bunch of messy pages nobody would even use for kindling. We’ve all had those days or months when we feel like giving up, ripping to pieces every draft we’ve ever written, deciding that we’re really best suited to being “readers” rather than “writers.” Yet no matter how seriously I may contemplate that possibility, I never feel any better after telling myself, “You’re right! Quit while you’re ahead—who wants to be a writer anyway??” Rather than feeling relieved (“Oh, good, I can go eat bon-bons and re-read The Eight for the umpteenth time) I always feel much, much worse. What’s even more annoying is that the only way to seriously feel better is to go write something!

After squirreling through this kind of burn-out more times than I can count, I’ve finally realized that what it all comes down to is trust; total trust that no matter how scary or frustrating or even boring writing can be, it’s what I like to do best in the whole world and it will always be there for me. The other day I made a list of what I’ve learned about writing and trust:

• Trust that when it comes to your own writing, only you can know what’s “right for you.”
• Trust “happy accidents.” Typos or omissions can turn into whole new phrases or ways of looking at a paragraph or character from a fresh perspective.
• Trust that all writing is fixable—no matter how extreme the “mistake.” Every piece of writing contains a nugget of gold.
• Trust that there is always someone who will want to read your work.
• Trust that you can always publish the writing you believe in.
• Trust that weird twist you feel when you just know something in a sentence or scene feels “off.”
• Trust that the right words will come to you to make it all better.

While you’re at it, consider the concept of “distrust.” For instance,

• Distrust the voice that says your writing is “bad.”
• Distrust the critique group member who always, always tells you you’re “wrong.”
• Distrust perfectionism.
• Distrust anything that makes ready excuses for why you can’t write today.

But more than anything, trust that if you’ve ever felt even the smallest urge to write, paint, draw, dance, sing, sculpt—it is a genuine call from your creative spirit! Never ignore the call.

Tip of the Day: Stop what you’re doing and sit down with pen and paper. Trust that the words will come. Start by writing the first word that comes into your head. Then another. And another… See? It’s really that simple. Trust simplicity.