Mr. Momentum and Knowing When to Switch Gears

The last three weeks, I've been working like gang-busters! (I wish I knew what a 'gang-buster' really was - though I could take an educated guess) Everyday I've been worrying over my poetry workshop, CYA craft class (no - CYA does not mean Cover Your Ass; it means Children's/Young Adult) and the CYA Directed Reading course. Three courses in a Master's program are nearly enough to drive one mad. The level of competency that is required when approaching this kind of work is near brutal. It's at this level one could almost compete with the big boys, and sometimes do.

In my case, I've been pounding out the observations of life (required journalizing for the poetry workshop), occassionally attempting to actually write (and submit) a poem or two, reading poetry (also in preparation for the course) and writing a children's early reader book (this writing is perhaps the most exact and toughest of all) about my favorite heros - Samurai Snail and Sumo Slug - while still contributing mightily (at least that's the hope) to the Directed Reading arguments and observations.

So here's the catch and the reference to the title. I have to do more and dig deeper on the poetry angle - that can't change - I'm  still entrenched. The Directed Reading won't change - I have research, observations, and notes to give and take. Samurai Snail and Sumo Slug, however, are a different story. I have to leave them. I've spent the last six weeks creating, writing, rewriting, editing, and working their story and character. But the dictates of the class demand that I do something else (like write five publishables poems over the next three weeks) and then something else a 120 pp manuscript and then 220 ms. - give or take about 50pp.

What does this mean? It means that I HAVE to switch gears. No choice. Normally, I might want to polish slug and snail and - at the very least - send it off to an agent. Oh, what a pleasure it would be to have Ms. Johnson crying over my verse!

So. there's my dilema and my task: let go of something that is gaining ground to begin a new task.

How to do this? I don't know for sure, but here are some ideas:

1) Put the thing to rest. Mentally say good-bye; Physically put all notes and manuscripts into a folder and shut the file cabinet.

2) Open a file for the next project. On the computer. Physical file for what is to come.

3) In a class course, I've been known to create empty folder in anticipation for future projects. I don't know why, exactly, this helps. But it does. I have yet to do this for all my future work, but I will most likely finish this by the week-end or next week at the latest. One reason for this is that the early push in a class can be overwhelming until you get the rhythm of the work and the nomenclature of the subject a little more pat and organized. It also doesn't help when one is inclined to play more than they should if they want to make the Dean's list.

Keeping It Going – Paper or Plastic?

There sometimes need to be an reckless approach to writing material. Just putting your hand to the keyboard, or as I prefer, pen to paper.

The advantages of writing by hand are nurmerous and I’ll share a few here.

I’ll get rid of the obvious:

1) When the electricity goes out, the paper can still be read. This may seem to an obvious statement, but I’m surprised by how often I’m surprised at my pleasure at seeing something I’ve written by hand. Yes – it can happen.

2) When the computer fritzes out, there’s a hard, hand written copy. Yeah, I know – more of the obvious, but back up of this sort is still back up.

- There’s an argument here to print out everything that you put on the computer. Aside from the cost of ink, I’m not sure this is always a good idea. But I do print a lot of my material so I can review it.

- If I am more than 10% into a revision, I’ll usually print out what I’m working on so I can read it for consistency and grammar and readability. Unless – I’m unusually proud of what’s being edited at this point.

I’ve rarely been caught short as a result of these habits – I shred or throw away much once revisions have been accomplished.

The not so obvious reasons for writing by hand: 1) allows for greater options while writing – length of time to write a word vs. typing one. 2) keeps the hand and body more available to service the mind: read here exercise. 3) Taps into the mythology of creativity. While typing is no less a creative effort than handwriting, it is nonetheless a different kind of creativity – handwriting offers another outlet of experience.

Rejection - a Slice of Life

Okay. I was rejected. Again

It hurts. I won’t lie. But when I look at the manuscript again, I immediately began to clean it up. Should I resend it?

It was for a National publication and the rejection nearly always makes me wonder if I’ve screwed up, or if I had a legitimate chance or if I was day dreaming.

1) I have to remember whether or not I sent it out as a lark or as a competitive piece that I thought had a real chance to win. this time i did.

2) I reviewed the work I sent. Was there too many cliches? Did I send it out with too many clerical errors? Was I too pedestrian? I this case, I suspect I was too pedestrian with too many clerical errors (though I don’t think there were many) and I suspect there were too many cliches.

3) I don’t think I was day dreaming – after reviewing the work, I think I was simply too amateur. Thought he contest is meant for amateurs, only the savvy actually get through..

I will try again with another piece that I could not define at an earlier time. I am able to see some weaknesses that existed before  - so we shall see.

Self Assessment of Competency

Keeping neutrality in assessing one’s own work is possibly the most difficult thing to do. I also suspect that keeping neutrality towards one’s work is also what allows for professionalism to flourish. There are many mantras in the world of writing that are spouted in this regard.

When writing, do not edit at the same time. Here’s the thinking: when one wants to write, let it flow and let it go. What comes out, supposedly, is thought and from that thought, meaning. This is good for drafting emotional content, exploratory thinking, and journalizing. And as I am currently involved in the study of poetry, I can see the value there.

But one must keep in mind one thing: It’s unpublishable. Okay, so maybe I get it published online when I submit some ramblings in a blog – but by and large, very little of it works the first time around – if any. Free association is important when writing. There are a few authors who can produce on first draft – but they are experienced and few and far between.

Prior to writing, have an outline. This is something some writers complain about. The argument goes, if they have an outline, the freedom of writing is lost. The difficulty is this: without a plan, even a loose one, meaning gets lost. Writing, unfortunately, is not an exercise in improvisation anymore than Reality TV is unscripted or real. Neutrality in composition – keeping the constant editor at bay – can actually be realized with a prior plan or outline.

Example: I can have a loose outline of three points (from English Comp): Hitler lost the war because he was 1) insane, 2) a vegetarian, 3) was unimaginative – admittedly weak reasons – but many “A” papers have been built on weaker premises. Then, as I write to prove these points, I remember something: The Allies let Hitler live, knowing that he would make more mistakes alive than those around him – who were inclined to do a better job. Now I can strengthen my argument to include that he was outsmarted.

When writing, know your ending. Here’s the problem. Writing from an outline, or knowing where you’re going to end up structures your writing ahead of time. The difficulty lies in being married to the concept or the outline. This is fine in a deadline situation – at least you get a product. But the product will likely be missing something.

I’m not referring to professionals who seem capable of writing off the cuff. Whether they’d admit to it or not, they are simply able to formulate the fundamentals before they get to sitting down to write. Either through brilliance, genius, or experience, they set down the guidelines of the work they are hoping to achieve, and get to it. This is why the Bridges of Madison County was written in two weeks: Waller had been writing seriously for 25 years before he came upon the concept of Bridges and hit the right note.

I’m inclined to do a bit of all of the above. In the last three years, I’ve seen my compositions grow and my ability to manage them after first drafts. When determining your own style, I would suggest an attempt at all of these. The second one is the one that has helped me most during essay exams, and I’ve always done well during those. (to recap an earlier blog: take five minutes of an hour to outline the essay and two to edit at the end)

When tasting these differing approaches to writing be wary of the one you ‘hate’ the most. Odds are there’s a great strength to be found there – some way to get to a greater truth or emotion or organic feel to the work.

Competency: You Know It When You See It

There are many levels of competency and awareness when it comes to assessing one’s own work. Judging one’s own work is difficult for a number of reasons. For one, we become invested in our own work and the quality of the work loses emphasis for the sake of trying to create meaning. That may sound contradictory: losing emphasis by trying to create meaning. But what happens is the author tends to reach for meaning and as he does so remembers all the previous arguments that build up – some foundational point – that leads to the argument.

Then you get sidetracked.

Many of my blogs/essays run in this way. The biggest trick is to keep the topic as narrow as possible while still forwarding information as fresh and interesting. I do this all the time. Obviously. this is one reason why I keep finding myself summarizing what’s gone on before.

So then: Judging one’s work: One of the hardest things to do is to read – physically read! – one’s own work. It’s an interesting exercise. I have found it very very difficult to reread my work, but the benefits of doing so really pay off.

Okay – so to narrow the subject of this blog: read your own work to assess its level of competency.

Next up: how to assess the competency of your own work.

Sticking to it and then Looking Back

One of the most amazing things that happens when one writes continuously (5/7) is that it doesn’t take long before there is a substantial amount of crap that builds up and you have to decide what to do with it. Writing writing writing is one thing you have to do in this business – of, well – writing. There are so many avenues to explore, it’s hard to figure where to focus. Level of skill is important to keep in mind, rewriting is good writing, practice makes perfect, and so forth.

Fairly early on in my exploration of writing as an art and career (please don’t laugh too hard) was a self awareness that concluded I did not have the skill level to write, much less publish. Knowing that I don’t know has been one factor that has kept me on track and has encouraged me to continue. Should I ever get to the point that I feel I have arrived (okay, I might feel that way after ten published novels) in terms of craft, myth-lore, and grammar then I’ve promised myself to give it up.

There have been many times where I’ve come against some mountain of craft that I couldn’t climb, and that maybe, just maybe – I should give up the thought of being a writer. Whenever I find myself thinking I should give something up, then that usually means I can find the answer that is stalling me. With a little bit of effort and meditation, I should be able to discover what it is and handle it. This is never NEVER easy, but it is doable.

In the end there have been only a few times where I felt I should truly give up. After a couple of years of looking into classes, where I was clever, but not good enough – I found my voice – that I had a writer’s voice that sounded an awful lot like me when I’m at my most individual way. When I felt I could connect. another occasion was when I realized I actually had something intriguing to say (all previous efforts looking more like a third grade rehash of some Gilligan’s Island episode), something competent.

If I can connect once – I can do it again. If I can be competent once – I can do it again. Gaining access to these two elements of writing provided the confidence I needed to continue my quest for success. So now I have this volume of work that is more or less garbage. But there are elements of connection and competency. Increasing one’s skill level by writing all the time (more on this later) is important towards completing projects. What occurs during these times are unexplored thoughts. These unexplored thoughts and expressions have the germ of genius. Eventually, they will get reused, resurrected, and resuscitated. Why not hasten the process by reviewing?

One of the hardest things for me to do is go over my crappy work – but it can pay off. It helps to know how awkward the road has been. Not to laugh at yourself (or cry), but to see where you were thinking and how you can take advantage of such thoughts with a more mature (?) or different perspective – the river has moved on. How to do this?

Bottom line: Pick up the work. Read the words. Make notes. Be done with the old stuff – unless you deem it profitable to rewrite and edit accordingly.

Getting Back To It

Not that anybody is following these blogs (at this point), but there has been a five day break from the last submission. This is not a big lag, but when one is ‘supposed to write one daily,’ according to some of the wisdom touted at the residency (I don’t subscribe to “daily,” but close), five days can be considered a substantial enough break.

Which brings me to todays thoughts:

Five out of Seven days is enough to be considered “daily”

Never worry about where you were – only where you’re at.

Writers (artists) seem to have a quirky way of looking at the world – and I thought it was only me! Of course, just to qualify, I believe there are artists everywhere, whether they be carpenters, electricians, CEO’s, painters, sculptors, or authors. It’s the knack for getting things done in a way that is fresh, organic, and original that separates the artist from the performer.

Often times, it is easy to get caught up in the public trap of seeing someone make an outlandish statement such as: I write 2K a day. That writer is either lying or telling the truth. Odds are, they’re lying. If they’re not they’re extremely busy and my hat’s off to them. If they are then they should be ashamed of themselves: God cries when you lie.

Ah, but what about the Five out of Seven rule? Can you take your hat off to yourself if you’re following that one? Most certainly. If anybody asks me how my writing is going and I’m getting 5/7 then I’m writing everyday. This is what I call the acceptable fudge factor.

There are other considerations. Life has a way of getting in the way of creating art. Mother’s really want you to stop by for a visit, the wife says, let’s take the holiday off, a son may step into the office to shoot the breeze (or other things), and so forth. What’s a caring individual to do? Accept their needs to see you as a way of understanding that you need to see them, and move on.

Naturally, especially if this is to be a profession, it is important to insist on your time and space – more on that later – but it is equally important to allow others to impinge upon you. This is good humanity. Herman Melville was more or less forced to immure himself to finish Moby Dick. He found himself inclined to help his neighbor, family, and friends. Poet Marvin Bell has likewise stated that he does the majority of his work at night (hence the title of one collection, Nightworks) for very similar reasons: chores, spending time with Dorothy, etc.

This may sound too much like what Jesus once said: Do not worry about the day, for the day has enough worries of its own. Okay, that’s a paraphrase, but close. But the principle applies. There is simply too much work that needs to get done to be freaking out over missing five days of blogging or writing or creating or schooling, etc. to freak. Freaking is debilitating.

Bottom Line: I’m picking up where I left off.