Friday, February 25, 2011
Hula Hoops and Writing: Momentum is Everything
A few months ago, I bought a hula hoop. Not for exercise purposes (although I sure could use some), but because my daughter, in all her 16 years, had never tried one. Not once. And what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of her at least once?
After a few fits and starts—and a whole lot of laughter—my creaky old hips finally remembered the rhythm and kept the hoop spinning around my midsection. My daughter mimicked my actions only to have the thing drop to the ground after a few swivels of her hips. She kept trying, but the hoop just wouldn’t stay up. I saw the problem. She was working hard at getting it started, but once the hula hoop engaged, she slowed down. And, doing what hula hoops do, it stopped spinning. I explained that once you get it going, momentum is everything. Because keeping the hoop in motion is a whole lot easier than having to pick it up and start all over again.
Momentum is everything. Sheesh. Of all things to make a light bulb flicker to life inside my skull. Why can’t my epiphanies swoop down with a little more pizzazz?
Like my daughter’s first attempts at hula hooping, I tend to write in spurts. I start out great, tearing through those pages at a frightening pace. Then my forward momentum slows to a crawl, until the writing falls off entirely. A few weeks later, I’ll crack open my manuscript and go at it again. Until I lose momentum. I actually am a slow-and-steady-wins-the-race type of person in other areas of my life. So maybe like any sport (if you can call hula hooping a sport), writing takes training and practice...and momentum.
Here are my strategies for writing at a steadier pace:
Type until the end of a scene, ending on a little hook, and then write the first word or two of the next scene. Stop there. Really. It drives me crazy not to complete a sentence (and not to resolve a hook), so it’s almost guaranteed to bring me back to my writing chair the next day to finish what I started.
Participate in challenges that pit me against...myself. I’ve participated in National Novel Writing Month for the last four years and completed my goal. NaNoWriMo is not for everyone, but it is an option for those of you who, like me, need a little extra push to keep going. I’m also checking out Write or Die, which sounds fascinating. I just need to get up the courage to give it a shot.
Have a critique partner or be part of a goals group. Just seeing all those other writers actively pursuing their dreams is often enough to make me perch on my rickety little chair and hover over my keyboard.
Disconnect from the internet. Okay, I might need a twelve-step program to help me with that one.
These are just a few options. What about you? Are you a sprinter, like me? Or are you able to set a steady pace and keep the momentum going? Feel free to throw out tips that keep you on track.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
What Kind of Pumpkin are You?
So, I'm interested in knowing what kind of pumpkin carving you do, and whether or not that pumpkin ends up being a reflection of your personality. Or even more interesting, does the face you carve hint at your storytelling style? Mine does.
For me, it all starts with choosing the pumpkin. I tend to pick pumpkins that are slightly...er, misshapen. I call them quirky, but they never quite reach that lofty description. My kids just roll their eyes, but they usually indulge me.
Then comes my favorite part: scratching grooves and hollowing out spaces until a face emerges. I invariably start with the idea of giving my pumpkin a cheerful, grinning demeanor, but things often take a dark turn. Call it a lack of artistic ability. Or maybe there's something lurking beneath the surface of my psyche. Nah...I'll stick with the former option. Whatever the cause, the pumpkin's smile twists sideways, becoming a sneer. The eyes narrow just a bit, growing cold, calculating. If he's lucky, I might give him a nose. Then again, maybe I won't.
When I'm all done tinkering and strike that match on Halloween night, there's a whoosh of recognition as creature and creator stare at each other for the first time--the flicker of candlelight, the glowing eyes which seem to read my every intent. I've set it all in place, brought this being to life with my own hands. Snuffing out that light at the end of the evening is like killing off a much-loved villain in one of my books. Except, in this case, my husband is brought in to do the deed. Then it's over.
The night. The candy. My pumpkin.
It's like ending a book and grieving over characters I'll no longer spend time with. Until a new and exciting pumpkin (or plot) captures my imagination, and I start the process all over again.
What about you? Are you a pumpkin carver? If so, are you a simple traditionalist? An intricate plotter? Slightly dark and twisted? Or fun and quirky?
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