Butt in Chair

There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.

Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith

Once upon a time I was a writer. Not one that made millions off a bestseller as that is such a fluke of nature, unless you're a star or cute politician. No, I was someone who made daily journal entries and did timed writings in a big blank book. I took classes on the craft of writing. I practiced. I joined a writing group. I wrote paragraphs. Essays. Short stories. I wrote a novel. Worked hard. Took it through many, many drafts.

I volunteered at the Writer's League of Texas. Worked on their Programs and Services committee. Ran the annual manuscript contest. Read 100's of first chapters from anxious writers, eager to to discover how their work might fare in an open venue. I studied query letters and wrote a good one which received great response. Sent my book out to 52 agents, 20 of whom replied with a standard rejection letter. The other 32 were kind enough to type a rejection letter addressed to me or in very special cases, a handwritten note telling me my book wasn't for them. I felt pretty good about my rejections.

In the meantime, I sent out my essays and short stories - won some contests, had a few published. Helped spearhead the publication of a book of women's stories and poetry and served as coeditor. In that process I learned along with several other women how to write a book proposal, get an ISBN number, beg authors for blurbs, and ask the lovely Liz Carpenter (may she rest in peace) for a foreword. The generosity of writers is most heartwarming.

When the book was finally in hand, we organized readings at book stores and literary organizations. Coffee shops. Sold books out of our trunks. Donated all the proceeds to NAMI - The National Alliance on Mental Illness. One of the authors in our book had succumbed to depression and we wanted to honor her memory by choosing a worthy charity.

All those aspects of the writing life filled my days when I wasn't being a full-time housewife, civic do gooder, and mother. Having learned tremendously from the rejections of my first novel, I took a few more in depth writing classes and began a second novel. One hundred pages in, I fearfully found work outside of the home due to business not going well in my husband's line of work. The recession sent me back into the workplace, with old, worthless or non-existent credentials. My writing dwindled to crying into the pages of my journal and an occasional timed writing. I edited/critiqued work for others and did some pro bono editing for a few publications. Other than that, my writing mind took on other junkets.

Come to today. My dear friend, ES Carlson, has issued an ultimatum. Emails me that she will no longer send me any of her work to critique unless I send her a new chapter from my novel in progress. A new chapter - due Friday. Bitch.


I just blew the dust off the pages I have. I'll let you know if I succeed.

I'd Like to Buy a Word

There are defeats more triumphant than victories.

Michel de Montaigne

I need to buy about 25,000 words. As of this writing, there is still one hour and 28 minutes left of Nanowrimo 2009 - 50,000 words in a month. I won't make it.

I did accomplish all these other things this month though. Can I transfer that into words?

Read five books.
Washed the kitchen floor.
Kept the whip on my #3 son to get out his college applications, essays, transcripts, resumes and also write up his Eagle project.
Made two really awful pumpkin pies.
Explored an idea for a non-fiction book proposal and wrote over 30 pages of notes.
Submitted two essays for publication.
Dusted my dresser.
Finished knitting a prayer shawl.
Moved my main character out of the middle of a field. Figured out her route all the way to the end of her quest.
Cleaned the toilets.
Watched John Adams, Six Feet Under Season 4, Citizen Kane, and Slumdog Millionaire
Changed the bag on the vacuum.
Spent a delinquent weekend with my friends.
Substitute taught middle and high school - many days.
Cleared the stacks of paper and junk in my office - spread it out all over the house.

Intended to succeed. Does that count?

Meanwhile 11:20pm. Surely someone has words for sale on Ebay.

Somewhere Out There Nanowrimo Calls

In skating over thin ice, our safety is in our speed.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tis the time of year once again for Nanowrimo. What could this be? Some weird holiday? A wrestling match.

Wrestling match indeed. A match of mind over matter. A commitment to the writing you often say you want to accomplish. That book you are going to write - some day.

Nanowrimo is the yearly Write a 50,000-Word Novel in a Month project. Sort of like driving cross country without stopping to pee. Excellent way to begin a new novel or further one you've already begun. Or use it to write that non-fiction book proposal floating in your head. Modify as needed.

Anyone out there care to join me?

If this is your first time at this venture, I suggest a little reading material. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. From her book you can learn about the "shitty first draft" and not get stuck on revisions while you're pounding out your story. Your book will need tremendous work when you're done because it will be complete shit. And that's okay. Maniac writing sometimes get us where we need to go, just like timed writings do on a much smaller scale.

I also recommend practicing with Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. Natalie teaches us to park our butts and write, write, write. Go find a coffee house with a table in a dark corner. Write with your back to the crowd.

In my unfinished novel, my character has been stuck in the middle of a prairie in South Dakota since last Nanowrimo. I think she has suffered enough. So have I with the guilt of stranding her. Lily, come November 1, you shall be set free. (Or at least hitch a ride on an Airstream that will take you in even thicker.)

Please check out the website Nanowrimo Often local groups will gather in cities throughout the US to write/discuss progress together. Great opportunity.

A note of encouragement - some days it flows and some days it plugs up, a lot. But there are always plungers to clear the muck.

Take a step. And another. Don't be scared. Good luck.

P.S. Really good things happening over at my friend's site No One's the Bitch.
Something to do with Dr. Phil ...