Back in the Saddle

My laptop died recently...

It was a real tragedy.

The loss of my old laptop decimated my work output. Yes, I could hook it up to my big, honkin' TV, but the angle was all weird and cricked my neck, the desk was too low and the chair was too high. It was uncomfortable and hard to really sink into the work. Sure, sure, I occasionally managed to pull off the odd brain-melting 3600 word day, but that was usually more akin to a non-drinker suddenly going out on a raging bender, rather than someone who's spending a regular evening having drinks with friends--I paid for it the next day.

I've never considered myself one of those types of "writers", the type that can't get anything done unless they have the absolute perfect writing area set-up with the perfect music and the perfect temperature in the perfect spot with the perfect level of noise. I've always considered that kind of stuff nonsense, nothing but ready made excuses for the non-writing writer set. I believe this because I hold to the idea that if you really want to be a writer, then you will write. I realize it can be tough to make the time sometimes, but... that's the rub, right? If you want to write, you will find the time to right. Granted, I have always been lucky enough to be able to work just about anywhere, at least, as long as I had reasonable access to my WIP, and I guess I can still say I can work just about anywhere really, but sitting on that too-soft ottomon with my head tilted too far back? It was a mile too far for me. I couldn't do it. My writing time suffered.

But then my new laptop finally arrived...

Yeah... We happy...

Except for Windows 8. What a crapfest, amirite? 

Other than that, it's good to be back and--after a bit of wrangling and wrestling with Windows 8--all set up. But here now, I am faced with a new question: How do I get started up again? Interrupting your schedule and/or routine or having your schedule and/or routine interrupted is a tough thing for a writer. Too much time away from The Work makes it harder and harder to sit down again and get back to things. It's hard to re-capture that rhythm and really dig in again in a really productive way.

So what do you do? What will Ido?

1. Schedule
You have to make time. Make time to settle in. Make time to stare at the screen. You need to force yourself to get back in front of the keyboard, so schedule some time to do it. Plan on it and stick to it. Make sure it happens. Sounds simple, right? Well, in that case, stop making excuses, sit down, shut up, and get back to work.

2. Backtrack
I find it easier to get to work on a normal day, if I spend a little time when I first sit back down going back over the latest stuff from the last writing session. It's kind of like warming up the engines, y'know? Like ramping the power levels back up into the green. It's hard to dive in cold, so instead, take some time, read through a bit of your most recent stuff and maybe fix what will most likely be a plethora of somehow now appallingly apparent mistakes. But it all looked so good the night before...

3. Take off the brakes
The flipside to taking some time each day to backtrack over your most recently completed stuff is that you can't spend too much time there. You don't want to get stuck in that mud, spinning your wheels, covering and recovering the same ground over and over again. Do that and suddenly you're that kid in the Critique Class bringing the same 100 pages to be reviewed that you brought ten years ago. Push, Sisyphus, push! At a certain point, you have to stop looking back and start looking ahead. You have to dive back in and just get started writing. Once you push your giant boulder to the top of that hill, take off the breaks and just go for it. You can always come back later. Keep that in mind: Just start writing. You can always come back later.

4. Consider
But before you do all that other stuff, take a moment or two, or a day, maybe just a little time while washing the dishes, whatever... Take some time and think about your story. Where's it going? Where do you want it to go? Where did it start? Is that the right place? And... if you were going to change something, what would it be? A scene? A character? A chapter? The beginning? The middle? The end? The whole thing? Could you delete it all and start over? Do you dare?

We'll see...

Get to writing,

Jon

Thanksgiving

Ah, the holidays. A time of gluttony and sloth and drunken vindictiveness. Take a deep breath, my friend, taste that rarefied air. It is truly the most wonderful time of the year. A time when family gathers around your edges like slavering wolves lurking just beyond the firelight. A time of crowds, seething and surging, a greasy tide of humanity smashing through the poorly maintained levees of good manners, drowning decent behavior, and swamping class and taste with a stagnant backwash of sweaty desperation, trapped within the gaudy confines of the Mall, damp and reeking. 

I'm just kidding, you're all wonderful, really.

So yeah... Thanksgiving. You know what I love? Cornbread stuffing. That is some good shit right there, my friends. If you haven't had it, I highly recommend rectifying that little error ASAP. There's still time, the groceries stores as of yet, are not completely looted. Just a friendly tip from me to you, amigo.

So... Holidays... Holi-DAZE, amirite? Know what I mean?

No? Well, allow me to explain.

With all the crazed running about of this time of year, with all the panic and petty anger and opportunistic backstabbing and what-not that looms over the next few days as we gather to "celebrate", there's one thing that always, inevitably, ultimately suffers.

What? No. Children? No. What the...?

Your WRITING. The answer is: Your writing.

Your writing always suffers during all the hub-bub and what-cha'doin' of this time of year. It gets lost in the shuffle. One day skipped becomes two, three, a week very easily. The holidays can be momentum killers and as we all know, forward momentum? That's your book right there, my friends. You gotta keep rolling, you gotta push, push, push to the end. Finish. When it comes to your first draft, it is of the utmost importance: Finish the story.

So what do you do?



Good question, Ponder Cat, what do you do? Well, here's 5 suggestions straight from my pie-hole.

1. Make time

Be a little bit selfish. Take some time for yourself Why not? The rest of the free world will be busy setting new records for selfish behavior, so who can judge you for taking an hour or two a day to scribble away in a corner somewhere? Here's a tip for those of you traveling out of town: Get a hotel room. Sure, it costs more than staying for free at a relative's house and sleeping in one of their ridiculously uncomfortable beds... or does it?

2. Adjust your expectations

Okay, your output is going to be lowered. You're probably not going to be able to pull off a 2000 word day for the next week or so. Accept it. It's not a big deal. Maybe you won't get chapters done, so what? Shoot for a few scenes instead. Family visits are nothing but Time Leeches, they will suck up every available moment and employ it towards their own horrible and twisted agenda, it's not the end of the world. Remember, my friends: Thanksgiving isn't forever, we'll make it.

3. Be prepared

Have your note book and pen ready. Have your tablet and laptop charged. Keep your Jump drive close. You may have to snatch moments where you can, so don't waste them hunting around for your stuff. Keep it with you.

4. Adapt

If you're one of those people who needs a perfectly balanced environment with the right chair and the right desk set up at exactly the right angle of slanting sunlight, with only one specific recording of a certain band with the volume just so and the perfect vase of very specific flowers perfectly arranged before you can actually set pen to paper and begin writing... then you're screwed. I can't help you. Get lost. And honestly, I question whether or not you really want to write and whether or not those conditions you set are actually roadblocks set up to act as excuses as to why you never seem to get anything written, except those first 25 pages you keep re-editing and re-editing...

But I digress--

Anyway, be ready to write not just when you can, but where you can. Is everyone watching football, snoring and farting away on the couch, and is that really the only place to sit? Then sit down. Write there. Tune the noise and distraction out. If you want to do it, if you want to write, here's your chance. Get some work done. Hey, at least they're all too busy to bother you, right?

5. Alternate progress
Ok, fine, maybe you can't settle in and relax enough for the ol' Imagination to properly kick in. Don't worry about it. No problem, it happens. But what about your plotting? How about some notes? Even just sitting there and thinking about stuff is something, right? (Although, I suggest you write your thoughts down, memory is not as reliable later as we believe it to be in the moment.) Snatches of dialogue, character bits, it's all important. This is what that little notebook you carry around with you everywhere is for.

Put it to use. Get to work.

And there you go...

Happy Thanksgiving!
Jon (and the rest of the Scribblerati, I assume.)

To begin

I don't know if you happened to see this or not, but I recently finished the 1st Draft of my latest Work in Progress (or WIP to all y'all in the know, y'know?). You can read all about it here at my blog, if you're interested. Go on, go check it out. I'll wait... No problem... I don't mind.

Doop-a-do... ppppphhhhbbbbbtttt...

Still looking? No, no. No rush. I said: we'll wait. Don't worry. I just want everyone caught up, is all. Nooooo pressure. Hmm-hmmm-hmmmmm... Hey. Hey, everybody else who's waiting... you guys saw this right?

Never. Stops. Being. Funny.

Okay, everybody back? Great, good to see ya'. And just FYI, feel free to swing back by my blog any time. It's open and free to all.

So yeah. Like I said, the 1st Draft of my current WIP is done, but I'm not quite ready to dive back in and begin the 2nd Draft. Not yet. I don't trust my eyes, for one. They've been too close for too long and they may not see clearly at the moment. And secondly, I need a little break, which is tied into the whole "fresh eyes" thing. Walk away for a bit, take a break, let things simmer down. Then, when you go back again, things will look new... hopefully.

That's the plan, anyway.

In the meantime, I've got plans. I've got new ideas. A new book, I think, maybe (and maybe a new short story too, but that's cooking currently, so we'll see) and I was thinking maybe, while my newly completed 1st Draft is cooling, I would do some work on this new idea/book/thing.

Hmmmm...But how does one start a new project?

Actually, I've done this before, so I've got a process and I thought I'd share it with you. This is what I do, of course, so your mileage may vary, but I've found it works for me. Maybe that's the key to it all: You figure out what works for you and you stick with it. After all, the point is to finish something, right? If your process works for you, great. The flip-side being: If it ISN'T working for you, if you find yourself more often than not staring at a blank page with "so many ideas in my head, if only I could just get them all out..." maybe it's time you switch something up, my friend.

This works for me, so let me break it down for you.

The Outline

This is where I begin. Now, outlines are usually considered bad words in writing circles. They're considered stifling and restrictive and generally lacking in creativity. Conjuring up images of the traditional outline format, many writers sniff, noses in the air, claiming that following such a strict course means your characters will never get the chance to truly walk and talk on their own, it means that your story is locked down before it even starts and as a result, any possible better ideas that might occur along the way are locked out...

Unless of course you prefer to use an outline, in which case the belief is that those who do not lack the focus needed to complete projects, and that those who do manage to finish often miss crucial pieces or forget to capitalize on narrative oppurtunities. They believe that the organization merely allows one to order one's thoughts, to see the shape of the story as it develops, to track the character arcs, and to ensure your narrative is on track. This side of the debate believes that outlines allow the writer to focus on the writing itself by taking the pressure off the writer when it comes to having to remember all the little details and ideas that may randomly occur to them throughout the process.

The two sides can get heated.

Maybe not as much as that classic bit of tomfoolery: Traditional Publishing versus Self-Publishing, but it does get folks riled, and like that other great bru-haha, the majority of the most strident are really just full of crap, because really, who cares? Outline? Don't outline? Who cares? Whatever works for you, right? That's what we're talking about here; that's our motto for the moment, right? Of course, it'd be nice if it were shared by all, but in reality, if you bring up the term "outline" when discussing your process with a bunch of writers, it almost guarantees that the conversation will quickly derail and boil down to an argument between the last standing pair of fools.

Ronnie prefers to outline, while Jwoww likes to "let shit happen".

So let's back up. Instead of Outline, let's call it: Notes.

Yes. Notes...

Take Notes

This is key. It's very important. Especially in the beginning. You're never going to remember all the random crap that floats up out of the dank idea-hole in the back of your head. Never. You think you will, but you won't, that shit is like smoke, Mon Frere, as soon as a breeze blows through that space... it's gone. GONE gone. And when that happens, the only thing you will be left with that you know for sure, is that whatever it was you forgot, it was the most awesome thing ever. Too bad, sucker. And that will drive you nuts. So, trust me, it's better to avoid this feeling. It sucks. And the easiest way to avoid it?

Get some books and write that shit down.

And while yes, it's true, eventually I do put it all in a Word file for easy writing reference, that's for when the ideas are starting to get a little more solid. When I first start out, when I'm still just jotting stuff down and things are still really loose, that's when I prefer to go with Long-hand. That's when I use the books.

Here are my current books:

The reason I find long hand works best at the start, is because it somehow doesn't seem as set. It's just a bunch of scribbled notes, scrawled in blocks and columns, it's snippets of dialogue, bits of scenes, light character sketches. No pressure. At first glance, it's just a jumbled catch all mess, but it's a mess with a purpose, all broken down into a couple of different specific sections.

The Sections

This is how I do it...

Notes:

This is where I keep track of the basics. Names. Moments. Details. Phrases. Descriptions. Snippets of ideas that may go somewhere or nowhere. The random bits. The stray thoughts, like: "Should they even make it to the school?" or "Should there be a friendly Orge? Well-spoken? (Not like Hank McCoy)". This is where I write down the beginning and the ending. Which is very important at the start, I think. It is my firm belief that you should know these two things before you start. If you don't, how do you even know what your story is? Also, this is where I put down the idea: "What if you were special and could do special things. What if you were chosen to attend a special academy, a secret place of magic and wonder, a place where only the most special people with the most special abilities were chosen to attend? What if you went to this special academy and discovered it was evil?" Now, is that the whole of the idea? No, but that's the kernel, that's where it starts.

Questions:

This is where I work bits out. I kind of slog them around and see how they shape out. I question them, if you will. The who, what, why, how, and the where. This is where I start to make some of the bigger story pieces, everything from the character motivation to the setting to the thrust of the conflict. Here's where I figure out the world details, how things work. Knowing these answers are important, even if they never appear in your story, especially if they never appear in your story.

The way it goes:

This is the part that some writers poo-poo, because here's where I sketch stuff out. Here's where I put down what happens first, what happens next, and where things go after that. This is the map. This is the way the story goes. Personally, I like to keep it vague.

"Abby in back of cop car. Rainy. Lots of lights. Her mom is pissed."
Or
"The other world, the rebel ambush, the mass escape, chaos, and into the river."

Short reminders, just enough for me to see and remember. I don't think you need more than that. They're notes, after all. I figure, if you keep it vague, you keep it loose, you leave yourself and your story some room to stretch and grow. Best of both worlds.

Things to remember:

This last part is for specific things that don't have a home. These are the things that are off in the distance still, things that I want to happen, but I just haven't planned up to that point yet. "Find the mech suit" Or maybe it's details that don't need to be in the outline. "The corporate logo is multiple earths spun out into the shape of a C, the beginning of the name: Croatoan. Beneath it says: Worlds of Possibilities." Or "The first child born in America by colonists was named Virginia Dare." Or "Al-taneen means Dragon, in Arabic." These are things to remember. They'll probably be useful.

To begin...

This process takes a little while. It's not something you just sit down and do one day like a math assignment. It's something you start and let build, something you can't linger over. It takes a kernel of an idea. I think it takes the knowledge of a beginning and an ending. Maybe an concerning a few characters too. Maybe a scene. I don't know, your mileage may vary. At a certain point, I take the good stuff, the stuff I'll probably use and transfer it to a Word Document, then this notebook loses it's purpose. It becomes nothing but scribbles and half-baked ideas, but that's later, in the beginning, I find it to be a good place to start.

Of course, once you start your project, you're on your own, sink or swim, baby. Doing this is not a guarantee of any kind of success or anything. How, and if, you ever finish something is up to you; I only share this in the hope that it might help you figure out what kind of story you're going to tell.

Hopefully, it will help you begin.
Jon

Done by summer's end...?

I started my second attempt at a novel back in January.

Well, that's not totally true. I wrote the first chapter of what would become my second attempt at novel a year or so ago.

Wait... no.

Farther back, I guess I first tried to make it a short story, maybe two years ago, but it was too big and clunky and just wouldn't fit. It burst at the short story's seams. It wouldn't fit and yet still say all the things I wanted it to say.

Which was, to say the least, a bit frustrating and problematic... at least, at first.

So I took the short story and I churned out a first chapter, just to try it out and see if it could walk around a bit. I tested it out, first among the venerable bastards of the Scribblerati and then in David Oppegaard's nascent Loft class.

It seemed to do all right. It could walk. In fact, it did better than all right. It didn't just walk, it ran. I'm pretty sure I've talked about this project on here before. At the very least I talked about what the book was generally concerned with, right?

Right.

So anyway, in January--new year, starting out fresh and all that--I sat down and started working on it in earnest. Tentatively working-titled as Monsters, I wanted to finish it by summer's end. It wasn't easy. Well, ok, sometimes it was easy. Sometimes the prose flowed like a mighty river. Sometimes the hum of the screen was so loud while I was staring at a blank page, it just about drove me insane. But now, 13 chapters in and on the other side of a short but wicked bout of writer's block, now 68,000 odd words along, I figure there's only four chapters and just under a month left.

For those of you keeping score, that's a chapter a week.

I think I can do it. I do. I think I can do it and here's why. Stepping into the project, I only had one goal: Done by summer's end. But I should clarify, I mean first draft done. It doesn't have to be pretty. It doesn't have to be good. It doesn't even have to be all that coherent. It just has to be done.

First draft done.

By summer's end.

One chapter a week.

Yeesch. I'm pretty sure I can do it.

Hopefully...

But here's the other trick... You ready for this? It doesn't matter if I get done by summer's end. See that? It doesn't matter. It's just an arbitrary goal. It's one I think I'll pull off, or at least, near enough to make no difference, but in the end, whether I make it or not...

No big whoop. The only thing that matters is finishing.

First draft done.

Hooray!



Then, my plan is to set the humped and wretched beast aside for a few weeks, probably the whole of September, and then take it and the responses I have already received from the Scribblerati, sit down, and get started on the second draft.

Which is the reason I'm doing this blog here today. The second draft. This is where I will fix it. This is where I will smooth things out, make them a little more clear, make them fit better, make them better serve the story. This is where I will determine the story, to be honest. I'm sure I will lose characters, I'm sure I will combine some as well. I'll move some to the forefront and some to the background. I will cut scenes and I will add others. The first draft just provides the frame work, the shape, the big block of stone. The second draft is all about the shaping, the chiseling off of the unnecessary bits, of turning that big block of stone into a beautiful statue... or at least, a statue.

And here's the little guiding light. Here is something to see by in that word-crammed darkness, a map to guide my way, to guide your way in your own work. It is filled with things to think about and things to remember. Print it out. Tack it to you wall. Learn it, love it, live it.

It's Pixar's 22 rules of storytelling.

That's a bunch of basic true-isms there, kids. Think what you will of Pixar (although as a hint... The correct way to think of them is that they're awesome. Don't think so? You're wrong.), regardless of how you may feel about them and their films, as a writer, it's important to know that this list is right. It's a good tool. Sure, y'know, maybe don't worry about it so much at first, but later... like I said, in the second draft? Keep it close, because the path through the second draft can be darker and meaner and more discouraging than the last time, so it's good to have a map.

Keep writing,

Good luck,

Jon

The Dog Days of the First Draft

They say the most important part of writing is to finish something.



That's it.

Edits? Critiques? Rewrites? Yes, that is all very important too, most definitely, but without actually finishing something, then what's the point, right? In the early stages, you have to keep that forward momentum going. You have to ignore the glaring faults. You have to ignore the inconsistencies. You have to ignore all those nagging doubts nipping at your heels like a pack of wolves looking to bring you down.

You have to finish. At least, that's what they say...

But it's not always that easy, you know?

No. In fact, it's really hard. Most people won't do it. Most people can't do it, because it's hard. It's hard to keep going when you know there are problems and there's no end in sight and it all feels just... terrible. 

Plot problems. Pacing problems. Inconsistent details. Unecessary characters. Things to add. Things to subtract. Unclear direction. Not enough description. Too much description. Questions of value and worth. Concerns about marketability. You should never write toward the market, but that doesn't mean you should be wasting your time on a dud project, right? And how do you know if it's a dud project or not? Questions, comments and concerns. It pokes at you. It slows you down and it can stop you cold. It threatens to take you out at the knees.

That's where I am right now, the middle of nowhere with a long way to go.

I'm working on my second book, so I've kind of touched on these ideas before. 

I've talked about starting over. I've talked about motivation. I am a little over halfway through the first draft now (at least, that's what my general plotting tells me), which means I am smack dab in the doldrums, slogging through a narrative quagmire as I try to bridge one part to the next, plagued with motivation and world detail questions, blah, blah, blah... right? It's maddening, but you have to ignore it and keep on keeping on, because as soon as you start editing and re-editing, and then editing some more, as soon as you start spinning your wheels, staring at that blank page and worrying about what comes next, as soon as you start fretting over value...

You're sunk.

You have to finish. I mean, really, what other choice do you have? Quit writing? No, you have to remember that it's supposed to be like this. After all, what's the common addendum to the Finish Something Rule:

But that's the sticking point, right?

I may know that I can come back, that I can fix it all later, but sometimes it is hard to keep that in mind. At times I feel like that room in my head filled with all the junk and scrap and bits and pieces that I drag out and hammer into the shape of my stories is pitch black and I am just stumbling around in there hoping to find my way. And sometimes it feels like that's not going to happen, that I'm just stumbling around in the dark. Lost. That's scary. It threatens the whole project.

I know my first book was a struggle. I know that. Thinking back on it now, it seems like it just kind of happened. One day: Poof! Book. Like I just wrote a few chapters, I planned ahead a bit, maybe changed my mind here and there, wrote a bit more when some stuff occurred to me and then it was done. Boom.

First draft finished, easy-breezy, lemon-squeezey!

That's a lie, of course, a recollection colored by fear and doubt and probably the failings of an aging mind, but still... When you're in the middle of it all, and that second draft is so far away, it's hard to remember that the first draft is an important tool. That it's just a frame work, a map to something better. It's hard to remember that the First Draft is just that, a First Draft, one of many and that it's not done.

And honestly, barreling ahead? That can often be the fun part. What happens next? It could be anything. It could be inspiring. It could be new and brilliant and twisty and awesome. It could change everything. What happens next? It could be amazing, yeah, but that fear and doubt reminds you that it could also be terrible.

But that's the rub, right? What happens next? To find out, you have to keep going. You have to finish, even if it might get ugly.

Keep writing,
Jon

Oh... you're a WRITER.

There are so many clichés out there about writers, and about how people perceive writers. For a long time, I thought that most of them were untrue – that is until I started writing in earnest. Then some of them started to slide into place.

No, we’re not all outsized naked mole-rats, smelling of unwashed hair and swigging Jack Daniels while we listen to Mahler for inspiration – Telling our friends we’re writing the Great American Novel on our antique typewriter, while really we’re spending all our time anonymously posting vitriolic online diatribes about Stephenie Meyer.

That’s simply not true. I prefer Maker’s Mark.

Buh-dum-dump.

But really, now. Not one of my fine Scribblerati friends, nor I, fit that description. Well, to my knowledge. I don’t spy on them at home, after all. (Okay, now I just got an image of a tipsy Lisa cackling maniacally while typing EDWARD SUX in all caps on some tweener website, and the image is very funny.)

But I digress.

So, yes, some of the clichés are untrue, or untrue at least for my writer friends and me. I’m sure those people exist.

But how about the old trope that once you tell someone you’re a writer, one of two questions pops out of their mouth – 1) “Where do you get all your ideas?” and 2) “You’re not going to study me and put me in your book, are you?” – I used to think this was just the silly invention of screenwriters (Like the fact that people in movies and on TV almost never say goodbye on the telephone. Go ahead, check it out. They just hang up, knowing the conversation is done. People pretty much don’t do that in real life.) – but I’ve been asked both of these things quite a few times in the last several years.

"He didn't even say goodbye!"

To answer them, 1) I’ve always found this question very odd. I get my ideas from my brain. Like you do. (Click here for tonal context.) I, unlike some writers, have an excess of ideas. I am an idea factory. A good, sometimes great, idea factory, if I do say so myself. It doesn’t matter, of course, unless, until I actually finish something. People don’t want to read plot pitches and descriptions of futuristic societies; they want to read completed stories.

2) I will only study you and use elements of you to create a character if you are exceedingly bizarre and/or fascinating, and if you’re asking me that question, I’m sorry, but you’re probably not. (Wow, I sounded like Jon there.) Okay, that's a little unfair, and untrue. Of course writers draw on their interactions with other human beings to write believable characters, but I, in my admittedly limited experience - let's say I've created 50 characters in my lifetime thus far - have never based a character solely on one person. (Except, perhaps historical figures. But even then you're making a lot of it up, playing a part.)

But back to a cliché that I mentioned earlier… the idea that every writer aspires to write the Great American (or Irish, or Belgian, or whathaveyou) Novel. I don’t. I don’t need to be the next William Styron or James Joyce. Okay, maybe I’d take F. Scott Fitzgerald or Kurt Vonnegut Jr., but only because I adore their writing. But I’m not them, I know I’m not them, and not only that, I don’t have a burning desire to impress the world of academia with my writing efforts, nor to go down in the annals of time as one of the greatest writers who ever lived. Sure, I want stellar reviews, and I want to share my stories with millions of people and, naturally, make a lot of money doing what I love, but mostly, all I’ve ever wanted to do is entertain the nice people. (Click here for tonal context.)

And speaking of Mr. Vonnegut, I came across this quote today.

I then thought about what…was it Neil Gaiman? said was the best piece of writing advice he could give: “Finish something.”

The first quote is freeing, and the second is both frightening for those of us who haven’t finished a novel yet, and beautiful in its simplicity. Stop fretting over perfection, or failure. Finish it, finish it, finish it. Another cliché about aspiring novelists – we're forever working on that first novel, and never completing it.

For today, I’d like to combine those two ideas, and task myself to finish something creative that is NOT my novel. Finishing an artistic endeavor is immensely satisfying, and I think it fuels us creatively in all areas. A novel takes so long to write, that that satisfaction can only be taken in small doses (I finished this chapter! I finished this draft!), and as for the final word of the final page of the final draft? It takes years of mostly solitary effort. So, for today, I say finish a sewing project, a painting, a poem, a clay model, practice a monologue, do something, FINISH something artistic – no matter how good or how lousy it is, as Mr. Vonnegut would advise. Who's with me?

(As for me, I’m going to pounce on my Wonder Woman crop art. My progress thus far. Her skin, if you're wondering, is quinoa.)