Oh. Mah. Gawd. I think this is the best excuse ever!

"I forgot all about it."
Blame it on multitasking, my addition to Diet Coke or my love of watching Ice Road Truckers (even the repeated episodes), but I completely forgot to find an excuse to stop writing.

And you're probably thinking, "Cry me a river, blondie."

Seriously though, I got so caught up in my words, some other stuff didn't get done. Of course, I can't really think of what those tasks are off the top of my head, but I'm sure they'll come to me eventually. Like when I run out of clean socks or groceries.

Now if only I could do this all the time. No, not go without food or clean socks, but be able to relax enough to let the words come out and take over.

Some authors talk about their characters taking over and allowing their authors to simply type what they are doing. And I used to think those writers were smoking something funny. Characters talking to you? Yeah, right.

But I've found that the more I get to know my characters, the more I know what they're going to say... or how they're going to react when the chocolate fountain falls over. Sob!

It's not that they're talking to me, per se, but it could be interpreted that they are. And this is what makes me forget to file the bills, delete emails and see if I have anything to donate to the local food drive.

This is when I must do a shout-out to my DH, because without him, our home would fall apart, socks would never be clean and we'd be out of milk for our tea. Over the years, he has learned to recognize when I'm in "the zone" (he's got scars) and stays fah, fah, away.

Zaphod still gently reminds me if I have been ignoring him, but then races down the stairs to hide from the crazy woman at the computer. Smart kitten.

How about you? How easy is it for you to get into "the zone"?

Labels: excuse of the week

It's been a wild week, with a blissful rest stop at the spa on Thursday. (Don't hate me because I'm so relaxed, it was a gift certificate!) But all this chillaxing helped me discover what I'm currently battling against:

"Fear of the slumpy middle"
We've all had this happen with one thing or another. A new project or shiny new idea starts with such promise and enthusiasm, we joyfully put pen to paper or apples in the apple peeler/corer/slicer/dicer or head to the paint store.

In other words, we get swept away. Any snide remarks from our inner critics are drowned out by the oohs, ahhs and squeals as we delight in the brilliance of the words, aromas or wall colours. We don't mind fumbling along, because it's all so new and groovy.

Then we hit the middle.

It's the part of the project when the motivating oomph of beginning is long forgotten and the white light at the end of the tunnel hasn't shown up on the radar yet. For some, it's a dark and scary place; for others, it's when the evil "whatever" strikes -- making us think that other ideas, recipes or rooms to decorate would be so much better than the pile of drec we're working on right now.

It's the slumpy part of the process that places us all into two groups: those who love to start and those who are determined enough to finish.

It's fine to be a member of both groups, but if you're only going to buy one team t-shirt, be sure to sign up for the team that gets to the finish line.

I'm sure you've read a book, tasted a recipe or walked into t a room that didn't quite meet your expectations. Overall, it's fine, but there's something about it that sags a little. Too much description in the part where the heroine is picking out what to wear on her first date with the hero, too few strawberries in the feildberry pie or a coffee table that overwhelms the overall balance of the living room.

It's not a big thing, but it's enough to make you keep on shopping.

That's where I'm a t right now in my WIP: the dreaded slumpy middle. Of course, my middle will not be slumpy; every scene will have a purpose with no extraneous babble about zombie-loving flamenco dancers or gratuitous chocolate fountains.

Le sigh. At least, that's what I'm trying not to do. :)

How about you? How do you keep things fresh at the middle of a project?

Labels: excuse of the week, writing

The words are still flowing, but I want to make sure they're the right ones. Le sigh.

And this insight brings me right to this week's excuse:

"If only someone would validate my work for me."
Oh yes, my friends. From time to time I lose my grip on reality and can only believe what other people have to say about my work. And sometimes, they don't like it.

I know, can you believe it? ;)

Whether from a beta reader, critique group member, agent or contest judge, their word is gold. Mine is Silly Putty with a hunk of comic strip stuck to it. And no matter how much I try to stretch and shape my own opinion so I can hear it better. it just shrinks back as soon as someone else says they don't like something I've done.

As my published friends say, "Just wait 'til you get Amazon reviews."

It's crazy, I know. And I'm not the only creative person out there who suffers from this. Heck, even those uncreative types do, too. If a hairdresser gives me a nasty haircut, all it takes is one of her associates to say, "Wow, your hair looks great!" and I'll forget how much I hate it until I get home and see it in the mirror.

So what's a woman planning on putting her words out there for all to see, mock and critique to do?

Suck it up.

Seriously, there's no other way. If I can't take the heat, I should close up shop. But I can take the heat -- I even picked up some SPF 4000 sunblock, just in case.

If I waited around for everyone to like what I did, I'd never get anywhere. LOL

So how do you deal with other people's opinions?

Labels: excuse of the week, writing

The writing is still going well, so hopefully I haven't jinxed myself by bragging about it here. It's been a productive week and the weather is still wintry. So it's only a partial boo hoo.

Here's what's been getting in my way this week:

"Email."
I don't know if it was because it was a short month or everyone suddenly thought it would be a great time to promote themselves, but my inbox has been jammed with a lot of stuff.

And, in some cases, it was a lot of stuff from the same people. Grr.

I'm all for tooting your own horn and getting word out about new products, services or whatever it is that you do, but emails are truly a case where, in my opinion, less is more.

How much is too much? It probably depends on the individual. For me, unless you're offering me information that's updated frequently, I don't want to hear from you more than once a month. In fact, even if you have updated stuff, group it all together for your next newsletter instead of sending me little bits every week.

Let me miss you. Please.

Sure, I could simply unsubscribe, but then I might miss out on something, like the reason I subscribed to your mailing list in the first place. ;)

That takes me to the murky waters of lists. Sometimes I'm on a mailing list simply because I contacted the emailer for another reason. As a writer, I could have been doing research for an article, or asking if I could quote the person for my expose on the high cost of pork rinds. Does that mean I want to receive your ongoing mutters about yourself? Probably not.

Now I know I'm ranting to the choir, but what do you feel is appropriate promotional contact? Once a quarter? Once a month? When is it too much?

Labels: blahs, excuse of the week, ideas

It's been a very interesting week... no, it hasn't, I'm a total liar. There's snow on the ground again and I really don't like my winter boots, but all the ones on sale are only available in size 6 or 10. So yeah, I'm not too happy.

"I'd rather be napping."
It's pretty sad when you'd rather be unconscious than face your WIP, but that's what happened to me this week. And how can I focus on character motivation and plot when the couch looks so darn comfortable?

Sure, I needed to be awake for the work that pays the bills, but then the sandman would come calling -- and I was ready to answer with a resounding yawn. Then the snoring started. Le sigh.

And it saddens me that the only thing my WIP is motivating me to doright now is nap. That says a lot about how captivating my novel is at the moment. LOL

So what's a writer to do? Well, for now, I'm going to take a wee break and have that nap. Obviously my body needs it, and maybe it'll give my subconscious a chance to work up some fabulous ideas I haven't thought of yet.

Well, here's hoping...

Labels: excuse of the week

Wow. It's been a week like no other for me. And here's why:

"I had no excuses this week."
Seriously. This was the most productive week I've had in ages in terms of my novel writing. Finished the first chapter (which took me forever to start because of, you know, all those excuses) and the brand-new synopsis.

Did it all in just over a week. Twenty-one pages in total.

Of course, at this rate it will take me three months to complete this rewrite instead of the six weeks I have left until March 31. But I'm not worried. This time I have an outline -- and character motivation that actually makes sense.

Oh, and a story that isn't bogged down my too much stuff. It kind of feels like streaking. ;)

So, instead of waxing poetic on this blog post, I'm going to tackle Chapter Two.

No excuses!

Labels: excuse of the week

My ability to blog on a regular basis is failing me at the moment. Perhaps it's the weather. Or that I watch waaay too much television. ;)

Here's what's holding me back this week:

"I'm having too much fun doing other things."
Now, "other things" might range from earning a good income to organizing the spice rack, but all that matters is that you're drawn to doing those things instead of achieving those goals you really wanted to accomplish. Le sigh.

It's the whole "fear of success/fear of failure" rearing its ugly head. Or two heads.

Sometimes it's easier to not do anything instead of putting your heart and soul into a project and watching it wither and die because it wasn't as fantabulous as you thought it was. Or, perhaps its fantabulousness isn't what the world needs at the moment.

I know this all too well. And I guess when I'm faced with the choice of working on the umpteenth draft of a WIP or eating cheezies and watching Melrose Place reruns, the latter will usually come out ahead. Especially the episodes when Kimberly comes back from the dead and convinces Sydney that Michael must die. Good times.

But then, after about two episodes, I start to get a bit mopey when I think about that crusty WIP that just needs one more go at it to become the Novel that Will Make a Difference. And no, I'm not talking about my novel actually making a difference for all of humanity, I mean that this novel will make a difference for my writing career.

Like actually landing a literary agent and/or a book contract. Yeah, total full-on cheerleaders-with-a-parade-and-chocolate-fountains time.

And that's when I get escareded. Because what if, even after putting everything into this draft, it still doesn't land me an agent or contract? What then?

The adult in me says, "Move on, write the next book," while the eight-year-old says,"That's so not gonna happen!"

Isn't blind faith a wonderful thing?

Trouble is, the reality of the publishing world is out there. Not everyone gets published. Even those who try really, really hard. And that makes me sad.

But is that enough for me to avoid giving this WIP my best shot?

Not today, and hopefully not until I get to the end, for which I've given myself the deadline of March 31, 2009. Yes, even though I have a gazillion other things to do. And even though I'll be spending most of March working full-time hours.

I can totally do this, no excuses. Gulp.

Labels: excuse of the week

Okay, it's been lame-o-rama over here in BonnieLand. But for good reason. ;)

Here's what's been holding me back this week:

"Project Runway Canada is on"
Now, if you don't live in Canada, that's just too bad. Because you missed some mighty fine programming. First, we have Iman as the host, who has impeccable style, a groovy rock star husband and an accent that makes anything she says sound perfectly bitchy.

"Sorry, you didn't make the cut."

But what makes this excuse even more lame than usual was what happened on this week's episode. Fourteen designers (most from Toronto, go figure) all showed up with their portfolios, luggage and attitude, and, before we got to the first runway show, two had bailed due to health reasons.

Poor Brian Bailey, the show's design mentor for the contestants. There he was, taking the designers somewhere "private" (with a camera crew and microphone) to help them through their decisions and ensure that they really wanted to miss out on the Project Runway Canada opportunity. At least Brian doesn't look so much like a bad '70s flashback as he did last season. He was all moustache, no man.

I can only imagine what the producers were thinking while all this was going down. It probably rhymed with the word duck.

Never before did I realize how unhealthy the fashion industry is. One gal had an anxiety attack, which resulted in a free trip to the hospital. (After all, this is Canada.) Then, the next day, a designer who had won his battle with cancer had to withdraw due to some complications (his legs were swelling up and he wasn't looking too good).

How was I supposed to get anything done with all this going on?

For a moment, it looked like the remaining designers might get a reprieve. You know, since two of the fourteen were, like, outta there already.

But no, those stinky producers let the elimination proceed as planned, leaving me wondering if the season will be a few episodes short. Or if they'll add some new competitors next week.

So, yeah, the Project Runway Canada drama cut into the time I would have normally spent on my work in progress. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

But that only explains my lack of progress for a few hours. The rest of the time I blame on the alien abduction.

Labels: excuse of the week

Ugh. It's been a busy week work-wise, which is very nice for my personal slice of the economy, but I'm feeling quite sluggish as I try to catch up on everything. Especially the laundry and grocery shopping. :::clutches the coupons tightly to her chest:::

"I can't decide which project to focus on."
Hey, I caught that stink-eye! Don't go hating me because I have more than one idea. (Yeah, like I have two. Big whoop.) I know a lot of people who can totally surpass me in a "number of novels in some shape of progress" contest. And they should be very proud of themselves.

Their holiday cards are still in the mail.

I've been using this excuse a lot lately. No, not the "in the mail" one -- it's the whole "can't decide" thing that's gotten the best of me.

But why is that so terrible? Well, until I make a decision, nuttin' gets done. And that's deadly when it comes to generating more words and new pages on a manuscript. All the ideas just kind of sit there, gathering cobwebs, waiting for something more exciting than spellcheck to happen.

It's the freedom of choice dilemma: we all have the freedom of choice, but until you decide, you're trapped.

Since our time is so darn valuable, it's hard to leave the decision of what to focus on up to a coin toss or flip of a cat toy. Or, another favorite, basing the decision on the next shuffled tune on my MP3 player.

When "King Fu Fighting" plays, I still don't know which novel to work on. LOL

So, after hearing two or three songs that remind me of bad '80s outfits and the boys who rocked the acid-wash look perfectly, I wait for the muse to arrive. Then, when that doesn't happen, I look for inspiring words from other authors.

And that's when I notice that a lot of smart people out there warn us about falling into the "revision" trap. I'm guilty of that. Big time. So at least I know to focus on the stuff that isn't finished yet. Or maybe I should say: "isn't even written yet."

Oh yes, my work is cut out for me.

How about you? How do you choose which project you're going to work on?

Labels: excuse of the week

When the temperature in Toronto is colder than the coast of the Beaufort Sea (near Alaska), you know that it's time to stop the BBQ. Brr! But blaming the weather isn't what my excuse for this week is about.

"It's too hard."
Can you tell where I'm at in my current WIP? The weather isn't the only thing that's cold around here. The poor Word file is in hibernation.

Well, there are times while on the journey toward accomplishing something that the goal can seem too overwhelming, challenging or simply impossible. And this is when a lot of people give up. Or are really tempted to.

I know, in my case, what normally gets me is a failure to plan or comprehend the amount of time I'll need to dedicate to a task. An excellent example of this is a beautiful needlepoint kit that sat in my craft box for seven years.

Do I have needlepoint experience? Nope. But it looked real pretty, so I bought the package, took it home, and then realized that I needed something called a loom and a needle or two. So I got those too. Without even opening up the pattern, I knew I was in trouble.

Still, I kept it all, just in case the ability to needlepoint perfectly or have the time to do it suddenly appeared. The few times that I'd open the craft box and see it, a little tingle of guilt would hit me as I thought of the money spent on the kit and accessories -- and how well it all collected dust.

What stopped me from picking up the needle? Knowing that I was already in over my head.

I donated the kit to charity before Christmas lat year. Hopefully someone out there is putting it to good use.

And I think that's what's been happening in my novel lately. I'm staring at the pages and not looking ahead. Actually, I'm more focused on the front cover -- or the thought of writing this book. My characters are there, but busy with discussions about cheese and how cold it is outside. This isn't the stuff that captivating stories are made of. (If they are, feel free to let me know.)

If I were mountain climbing instead of writing, I could be hanging off a cliff or surrounded by wolves; my compass, map and trail mix would still be at home. Or at the camping goods store.

So yeah, things are hard to do, but they're even harder to do when you don't have a plan, recipe or outline. While we might not be able to plot out all points in the journey towards success, it helps to know which small steps will bring us closer to it.

How do you deal with a goal that seems too huge to accomplish?

Labels: excuse of the week

2009 has been an interesting year already. And when I say "interesting," I mean "could use some room for improvement" or perhaps "send more chocolate, I'm gonna hibernate instead."

Oh yeah. Even exercising regularly has done little to curb Little Miss Cranky Pants. She's still having that tantrum in the corner that started last week. ;) So that makes this excuse an appropriate one, since it might have inspired my thoughts of hibernation.

"Someone doesn't like it."
It could be that recipe you slaved over for hours, that query letter you spent weeks crafting or, in the absolute worst case, the novel you spent the last year polishing, revising and making sure it was really, really good.

And still, someone out there isn't gonna like it. No matter what you do. Even if you decorate it with butter-cream frosting. Okay, maybe you don't frost your manuscripts, but you know what I mean.

That's what sucks about trying. Sometimes it doesn't work. Sometimes it does. It's just hard to know which "sometimes" we're in until we get verbal or written confirmation that whatever we did wasn't to that person's taste.

Perhaps they don't like macadamia nuts or teen girls struggling with a big secret. Maybe they already had a fabulous turkey dinner at someone else's house and just aren't hungry -- or read a lovely query letter that sounded almost like yours, except it had a dance sequence in it and yours didn't.

Le sigh. It's just hard to know what people mean when they turn down your offer. Or simply let the tray of cute little homemade pastries pass them by without even giving them a glance.

Sure, I might be talking about seeking publication, but the same concept also applies to a lot of other ventures, be it becoming a chef, photographer, Broadway star, major league baseball player... even some astronauts get turned down. Heck, being an astronaut might be even harder to do than getting published right now, given the state of the economy.

So if one door closes, does that mean it's time to give up? Well, what if it's been a couple more doors than one, and it's been longer than, say, five days?

When is the right time to let someone else tell you to stop pursuing your dreams?

Labels: excuse of the week

Apparently the onset of a shiny New Year is not enough to keep my excuses at bay. ;)

"I didn't really want to do it anyway."
This excuse and I go way back and it appears when times get tough and I realize that, in order to accomplish something, I might have to work at it longer than 10 minutes.

That's when the terrible two-year-old inside me throws herself on the floor and starts kicking at the tiles. A few whiny screeches may be involved, highlighted by tears and really blotchy cheeks. Yeah, talk about being ready for my close up. ;)

But seriously, why do some things have to be so darn hard? Why can't it all be as easy as polishing off a box of chocolates or singing along to Boney M's "Rasputin"?

And puh-leeze, don't go trying to convince me that all the hard work will pay off and make me feel an awesome sense of accomplishment when I'm laying this excuse out on the table. No way, no how am I gonna see the point of spending any more time on that "stupider than Jupiter" scheme. No offense to Jupiter, it just rhymes with stupider.

At this point my mantra is "Success be damned!" I'm gonna go hang out on the sofa and get all cranky. Maybe even watch a couple episodes of Temptation Island I still have on tape. Yeah, the ones with Catherine and Edmundo, the star-crossed nimrods who totally deserve each other.

And I'll be the first one to complain that I didn't get anything done that day. ;)

Now prepare yourself for an incredible dose of funkiness:

Labels: excuse of the week

This one was super-easy to come up with this week, as I've spent way too much time in bookstores. Squee!

"There are enough _____ out there already."
Go on, fill in that blank with the thing you're avoiding doing, like that Great Novel or fabulous debut album or incredible clothing line. I dare you.

Walking into a bookstore and seeing all those other titles (some in the bargain bins, sob!) makes me realize how oh-so-not-alone I am in trying to land a literary agent and sell a novel (or two). How can I possibly compete? Why should I even bother trying?

Then I started thinking about the other things I seem to be able to get done, like preparing meals. What if, at some point, I suddenly thought: "There are enough meals out there already" and stopped cooking dinner? Or what if I took it to a new level with: "There are enough clean clothes out there already" and gave up laundry?

I know what you're thinking: those are necessary tasks. Right? Well, maybe writing a novel is a necessary task for me and my weakened sanity. Even if there are enough novels out there already, there aren't any with the Bonnification that only I can provide.

Wow, did this room just get smaller? LOL

Seriously though, if everyone suddenly felt that there were enough whatevers out there, we'd soon discover how limiting that way of thinking is. We'd all only have three TV shows to choose from (CSI, CSI: Miami and CSI: NY), two types of pasta (straight or curly) and four types of novels (classics, biographies, romance and science fiction). Anything else would be considered unenvironmental; because more than four choices would be too many.

Only allowing the world to choose from what would fit into a shoebox may seem like putting environmental awareness to good use, but is it? Is limiting everything we enjoy to only a few "approved" choices the right thing to do?

Not by a long shot. Freedom of choice might be considered a luxury, but it's an essential part of getting the most out of what you want in this lifetime. Sure, you might be in a situation where your choices are somewhat limited by the amount of time or money you have, but at least you have some sort of option, even if it's going with whole-grain or white bread.

It all boils down to choice, whether you want to offer it (for those writing novels or designing clothing lines or whatever) or delight in it (at the store, on your playlist or at the movies). All you have to do is decide. ;)

What do you think? Are there enough _____ out there to stop you from trying?

Labels: excuse of the week

It's Friday already? Ack! Well, if I must select an appropriate excuse for the week, it'll have to be:

"Zombies ate mah brains."
Oh those zombies. They know exactly when to strike: when you have your hands totally full, the phone is ringing and there's something burning in the oven.

You think they'd go after the burnt offerings in the kitchen, but nooooo. They want you. Well, more specifically, your brains.

And, this time of year, on top of the regular flow of zombies, we also have the holiday-zombie madness. That's when they show up with red and green felt hats on, and some of them even sing Christmas carols.

Okay, maybe "singing" isn't the correct way to describe it since they kind of mumble through the melody, adding in the odd "brains, brains" during the chorus. Jingle Bells has never sounded better, let me tell you.

Of course, zombies don't literally have to eat your brains for you to give in to that excuse. I usually blame the zombies when I'm feeling overwhelmed, out of time and just not all that inspired to get off the couch. And we won't talk about dropping the box of holiday chocolates either.

But using the "zombies ate mah brains" excuse makes light of those who have had their brains eaten by zombies. They know all too well that brains don't grow back. It's not a switch you can flip on or off. Once dah brains is gone, they's gone.

And that would be a problem. Especially when I need those brains for all the stuff I like to do. ;)

So while it's tempting to pretend that zombies have eaten my brains, it's usually a sign that I've taken on too much or I'm simply focusing on the wrong things. Like line-ups in the malls or how long it's been since I've felt warm.

I think it's gonna be a long winter, zombies or no zombies. LOL

Labels: excuse of the week, fun, ideas

Is it just me or were there only three days since last Friday? Time flies when you're recovering from NaNo and waiting for confirmation of a Golden Heart entry's arrival. It's a sickness, I know. I just love being tested by the Canadian postal system, what can I say?

"I'm filling the well."
This has to be one of my most handy excuses because, to other creative types, it sounds really good. To others, however, it sounds a bit too "liquidy" and may lead to people questioning your sobriety.

Filling the well, for those who haven't dipped in, is when the writer's mind lays fallow (is that the correct term?) so that the gray matter can rejuvenate and prepare for the next season's planting of ideas. Of course, a season for a writer shouldn't equal an agricultural season, because then everything dries up and blows away. Metaphorically speaking.

So, as most writers are in full NaNo recovery mode, they have every right to sit back and fill the well. Some do this by vegging in front of the TV, others dive into a book they've been dying to read and others, bless them, reconnect with the loved ones they screamed at while trying to write 50,000 words in a 30-day period.

Since I only hit 15,000 words, a serious well-filling hasn't been necessary, but it's been verra, verra busy for me for the past few months. So I took a wee break,,, that started in November. My poor WIP, which rapidly grew from a single line to a whole bunch of pages, was dropped like a hot potato for another project and left to fend for itself.

Sure, I've been brainstorming and getting some fabulous shashoomba action, but that's not getting words on the page. And it's really hard to win over an agent or an editor with something that isn't written, let me tell you.

So how do you know when the well is full enough? I'm not sure, but I do know that I feel a lot less frantic when I'm working on something regularly instead of in bits and bites (sorry, I'm hungry; all this talk of feeding).

Maybe the key to filling the well is to know when to stop. Like before it spills over onto the new carpeting.

How does filling the well work for you? Have you ever used it as an excuse?

Labels: excuse of the week, writing

It's the time of week again, and I've got a doozy of an excuse for you:

"There's something else I should be doing."

This one gets me every time, especially when the "should" is paying work or seeing family and friends. But I have been known to ditch the writing for less rewarding tasks such as decluttering, laundry, food preparation, contest entering and coupon clipping. Sometimes performed all at once.

So how do I show the "shoulds" the door? It's not easy.

Tactic One: bucket-list mentality
You don't have to watch the movie to get this one. All I do is imagine myself on my deathbed or being told that I only have a year left to live (oh yeah, happy thoughts) and I compare the two tasks competing for my attention. Which would I regret not doing more? Writing the novel or folding the laundry?

Sure, most of those comparisons are a no-brainer, which makes the bucket-list mentality totally useless when you have to choose between feeding the kitten and spending time staring at words on a screen until your eyeballs bleed.

Sometimes it's easier to feed the cat. And no, that's not some double-entendre catch phrase that all the cool kids are using these days. Distraction is one of the steps I frequently use to bring forth a Great Shashoomba when I'm stuck with my words. And, sometimes, the place is a disaster zone and I can't find anything because of all the piles of paper on every flat surface of the house.

It makes the cat cranky too, as he tends to slip on the papers when leaping onto the furniture. We won't discuss how the neat-freak DH feels about such matters; he lets me know on days that end in "y".

So when Tactic One doesn't work, I switch gears to:

Tactic Two: moments of greatness
This goes along with my earlier advice on breaking down a goal into bite-sized pieces. Thinking about writing an entire novel is tiring; it just sounds like it's gonna take forever. So I only force myself to sit at the computer for ten minutes of greatness.

That's it. Ten minutes.

Now you're probably thinking, "How much can she possibly write in ten minutes?"

Not a heck of a lot. And that's why this tactic is so effective yet evil: most times, I can't stop at ten minutes. If I'm in a great scene or establishing a cool setting, I won't want to stop. But, by convincing myself that I'll only be working on the novel "for a few minutes," I can get myself into the writing mindset and have the words flowing onto the page. Like buttah.

Okay, maybe not all the time.

How do you stop those "shoulds" from taking over?

Labels: excuse of the week, writing

Oh, it's been a wild week over here in BonnieLand. Lots of winter preparations and searching for winter wiper blades and those really expensive gloves purchased on sale last year have eaten up too much time already. But that's not my excuse this week. I'll save that one for later. ;)

"I can't."
Wow, putting those two words on the page just made me tear up. I blame Daniel Craig keeping his clothes on throughout most of Quantum of Solace. Now where was I?

Oh yes, the c-word. I've used it a lot, especially at the gym with my personal trainer. Luckily she ignores me and just adds more reps to my routine. Grr.

But saying "I can't" is just another way of saying "I'm not even gonna bother trying," and that's what makes me sad. There have been way too many times that I've can't-ed myself out of things, like writing my first manuscript ten years ago when I first thought of it instead of waiting until that particular genre had curled up and faded away like the cucumber at the back of my fridge.

Hey, it'll come back again, what goes around comes around and all that. Whatevs.

Right now I have two "I can'ts" sitting comfortably on the futon behind my left eye, noshing on seven-layer dip and fighting over my Melrose Place DVDs. Allow me to introduce them to you:

"I can't rock climb" and "I can't write deep enough." Their nicknames are Rock and Deep, which makes them sound like characters from The Bold and the Beautiful, but who said that was a bad thing?

Rock I blame on my fear of heights. There's just something about climbing up a wall or a cliff or even an open staircase that makes me want to, how you say, COMPLETELY FREAK OUT.

And there I was, thinking that I kind of mastered the whole height thing by going ziplining for my birthday last year, but nooooooo: as part of the fitness series thing I was doing earlier this year, we did a rock-climbing day. When I say we, I mean basically everyone else. Le sigh.

I'll work on Rock later. After Paper and Scissors. (I'm here all week, people.)

Deep haunts me every time I work on a novel or an article. My voice is naturally light (like my white pasty skin), so when I approach darker, deeper subject matter or conflicts or character motivations, I tend to, how you say, COMPLETELY FREAK OUT.

And there I was, thinking that I kind of mastered the whole deep, dark thing when I made things really hard and horrible for the heroine in my last manuscript. Sure, it took me three tries to realize that she couldn't just waltz through the novel picking daisies and skipping (I mean, that's so 1967), but I did it: I put Baby in a corner and hid Patrick Swayze in my bedroom closet. For a month.

I'll admit it: Deep and I have some issues. Wow, for a moment, it looked like I had written "Depp and I have some issues," and that would be true as well. I just can't hang out with a man who looks better in eyeliner than I do.

Ugh, see what I mean? There I was, about to get to my deep, dark secret about not being able to write deep and dark, and I throw in a crack about Johnny Depp's makeup. It's a sickness, I tell you.

Maybe I'm afraid of what's behind that door way at the back of the basement that no one looks at directly, yet everyone knows is there? Perhaps the way I approach my characters' motivations, conflicts and goals reminds me of how I should approach what happens in my life?

Maybe I'm afraid that if one of my characters or I open the door and deal with what's behind it, there'll be nothing left for me to write about.

Oh yeah. That's probably it. Damn...

Anyone have advice on how I can beat Deep? Pretty please?

Labels: excuse of the week, goals, writing

For this excuse, I need to thank a colleague who asked me for advice for a friend, who's looking into doing freelance writing.

"I'm not ready."
It's hard to treat this as just another excuse, because it's really a self-sabotaging mindset most people starting on a new adventure or career path cling to for as long as possible until a better excuse comes along.

Issues? I gotz 'em.

Why should this excuse bother me so much? Because it pokes at the heart of our dreams and goals, looking for the loophole to keep us in a holding pattern. It leaves us terrified enough to put off taking that next step to bring us closer to our goal.

For me, "I'm not ready" stopped me from sending article queries to some major Canadian magazines. Sure, I had a portfolio of clippings, but I still didn't feel that I had the chops to swim in the big pool. I was comfortable in the kiddie pool, even though my water wings were starting to pinch and my lips were turning blue.

There were a gazillion reasons why I wasn't ready to approach those editors. That's why writers are so great at sabotaging their own careers: we can create a very believable list of reasons to do anything but succeed. ;)

And then someone named Michelle Rowen told me to pitch an article to Homemakers magazine anyway. "Just do it already," she had said. "The worst thing that could happen is they say no."

So I wrote up a query letter and revised it... for about a week. Then, just when I was sure an instantaneous rejection would soon follow, I hit "send."

As soon as I released the key, nothing happened.

The sky didn't fall. Cabana boys didn't suddenly burst into song. Life simply went on, just like it had before. It was a big relief actually. Michelle and I celebrated my huge victory (actually sending the damn query) and I continued on with my other projects.

After about a month, Homemakers wrote me back. Not just Homemakers, but the editor. She even used my name and everything.

Apparently, according to her, I was more than ready. Not only did she assign me that article, I've gone on to write a few more for them. And, once I get back on the article-query bandwagon (yeah, I gotz excuses for that one too), hopefully I'll be able to do a lot more.

So the whole "I'm not ready" thing is an act of self-preservation that actually prevents you from learning. Sure, maybe if I had tried querying that magazine a year earlier I might have been rejected, but I know if I had waited another year to pitch an idea, I would have missed out on the other opportunities that followed the initial article I wrote for them.

In other words, suck it up and take the next step. If you're not "ready," you may just connect with someone who can help you get there. You won't know unless you try.

Labels: excuse of the week, writing

This one I actually caught myself thinking several times throughout the week (thanks to NaNo):

"I'll make up for it on the weekend."
Of course I will! According to the list of things I feel that I will be able to accomplish during the weekend, mine last about, I dunno, three months or so. ;) It's all part of the thrill of working from home.

Only I haven't been lately. I've been doing some onsite work for some clients. Onsite as in "not at home in pyjamas, able to work on whatever I want, when I want." Onsite as in "they expect me to focus on the tasks at hand while I'm here between 9 and 5."

Sometimes I forget, since I'm used to taking breaks at the home office. Sometimes they last for a day or two...

And that's frowned upon in those corporate-type offices. You know, the ones with supervisors in them.

So I've been struggling with getting words on the page for my current WIP so that I can hit 50,000 words by the end of the month, struggling with reworking another manuscript's synopsis so it kind of resembles the revised novel and struggling to simply get stuff done, like laundry and meal preparation.

DH is a saint and can do the laundry, but his kitchen skills are limited to soup or breakfast foods. A woman cannot live on waffles and noodles forever, no matter how tempting.

To combat this "save it for the weekend" mentality, I'll break a task down into smaller steps, and then promise myself to tackle at least one step before I can postpone the rest of it until I have another spare moment.

This tactic normally works for me, since, to make it easy on myself, I'll break something down into so many steps, each one only takes about five minutes. Then I'll end up doing two or three steps, and soon enough, I'll just plow through the whole darn thing, just to get it off my list.

Of course, when facing 50,000 words, I've broken it down into 250-word allotments. I only have to do that 200 times (actually, it's only 184 now) before the end of the month. It's totally doable, just like the commercial-break squats I try to remember to do while watching TV instead of going to the gym.

Ugh, I'll have to make up for that on the weekend. ;)

Labels: excuse of the week, NaNoWriMo

It scares me to think of how many excuses I use. I'm hoping that one Friday morning I'll be able to draw a blank. It probably won't be until 2010 though. ;)

Labels: excuse of the week