Never count anyone out.

This is an awesome clip. The embedding has been disabled so you'll have to jump over to youtube, and search "Susan Boyle" to watch it, but if Susan Boyle can be a singer, I can be a writer! Good for her- and me.

Artists and Moods

What, do you think, is the common denominator between artists? What is the one thing that links us all together into one solitary whole being? My mind tells me that it's moodiness. Artists are moody. We weave ourselves in and out of moods, dragging along unwittingly those poor souls closest to us. We plod through the mud of despair, we flit on the clouds of glee, we weep the tears of the world's heartbreaks- all in one day.

You will note that I am currently working on the sixtieth page of my novel. I have been for seven days. I've been so utterly depressed this week. I've trudged along through the string of days uninspired and hopeless. A stark contrast to my mood of last week in which I wrote sixty pages and where I informed everyone I encountered that, "I am so Zen."

A slightly silver lining tells me that I am suffering so that I will know my characters. Every thought I have links itself in some way to Lily and J.R. I know them better for my moods.

I guess the moodiness is necessary, a suffering for our art. Art is not free. It comes with a significant pricetag.

Practice makes Novelist?

When I'm not writing, I'm reading about writing. As of this very moment, my copy of Goldbereg's Writing Down the Bones sits lazily across my lap- sharing the space with my computer. So far, the main theme is to shut out the world and find the writer within. I need to do better at that. I am loving this book. It's very zen. The emphasis the author has put on one concept in particular has struck me, and that is the importance of practice via freewriting. It has been so long since I sat and practiced freewriting. I constantly carry hundreds of editors on my shoulders as I write. Everyone from my mother to my potential reader sits, metaphorically perched- adding their imput to all I do. Goldberg's theory is that it is your voice as a writer that makes a fine novel and that voice will only come through practice and most often freewriting. Maybe it's time to ask the critics on my shoulder to leave and return to the creative freewriting I did as a younger woman.

Natalie Goldberg: "It's good to go off and write a novel, but don't stop writing practice. It is what keeps you in tune, like a dancer who does warm-ups before dancing or a runner who does stretches before running...Writing practice embraces your whole life and doesn't demand any logical form...Think of writing practice as loving arms you come to illogically and incoherently. It's our wild forest where we gather energy before going to prune our garden, write our fine books and novels. It's a continual practice."

Raining on my Passion Parade

You all know the passion I have for my writing. What a funny thing that I just expect everyone to feel the same excitement and passion about it. Today I have realized that people want to talk about other things. They also have lives outside of my writing. How dare the world rain on my passion parade?

Blissfully Tired

It's after 1 a.m. I've just finished my writing. I've spent the day reading The Writer's Market and Guide to Literary Agents (although the foreward is by Debbie Macomber, my arch nemesis). They motivate me to keep going! I finished 6 pages today! A very productive day. I just can't wait to tell this story!

Music

A fellow writer mentioned to me this week that she listens to the music that her character would listen to while writing. Tonight I decided to try it and it really does help. In the theater world, we would call this method acting. So I guess I'm method writing?

Distracted...

My life as a writer has been interrupted this week. So much so that I have had not one moment to write this week. I, for one, cannot write with children present. It messes with my focus. I also can't write with my darling husband in the room, (Picture this: "What did you write now?...How about now?") This week Libby has decided to refuse her nap and instead screams bloody murder for an hour (or two). Her naptime is my usual writing time. And, as you may have surmised, ear piercing shrieks are not the best for writing. I've also had the distraction of having to read 2 books for various book clubs. So now, I'm set. The kids are going to bed at 7:30. The husband is camping. The books are (mostly) read. The creative juices are flowing. The muse and I are going to do some girl bonding!