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Category: Writing

Posts in which we talk about the writing craft and process

In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron writes:

“Most blocked creatives are cerebral beings. We think of all the things we want to do but can’t. Early in recovery, we next think of all the things we want to do but don’t. In order to effect a real recovery, we need to move out of the head and into a body of work. To do this, we must first of all move into the body.”

I follow the exercise routine from the Body for Life, with some adaptations. I work out six days a week, alternating weight training with swimming. Although I’ve found it harder to keep to the eating program (I just love food too much) and it hasn’t given me a Victoria’s Secret supermodel figure (ditto on loving food too much!) I’ve found it’s been helping my writing in ways I didn’t expect:

    • It reminds me to feel the satisfaction of small accomplishments, the laps swum in the morning, the pages written later in the day.
    • Since lifting weights, I’m less prone to back strain from sitting at the computer.
    • Endorphins that fight the mild to moderate depression I feel from time to time.
    • Better sleep equates to better writing in the morning.
    • Rhythmic exercise soothes worries, frees up creative paths in the mind.

 

Another excerpt from THE ARTIST’S WAY could easily describe me.

“Every day, as she swims the aquamarine oblong of her neighborhood pool, her mind dives deep into itself, past the weeds and clutter of its everyday concerns—what editor is late with a check, why the typist persists in making so many errors—and down to a quiet green pool of inspiration. That rhythmic, repetitive action transfers the locus of the brain’s energies from the logic to the artist hemisphere. It is there that inspiration bubbles up untrammeled by the constraints of logic.”

At the risk of sounding preachy, please go out and find some exercise to do if you aren’t already. Swim, walk, run, bike, whatever works for you. It really does help!

Elena
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE
www.elenagreene.com

I’m always interested in hearing what verbal pet peeves people have. (I’m alliterative today, I see! Please pardon my prankish prose.)

Some people don’t approve of a sentence like “Hopefully it will rain today” — they think that “hopefully” should stop being naughty and start behaving like a regular adverb. I think it’s fine and dandy, and this construction is extremely useful.

Some people don’t like splitting infinitives. I think such reservations are ridiculous, and were introduced into English at a very late date anyway, so don’t even have the weight of tradition behind them.

But just when I start to think I’m a language “liberal”, believing (as I do, for the most part) that language change is normal and healthy, and there is no “right” way to talk (or write), I come face to face with my, er, tastes. Tastes? Perhaps I should be honest and call them prejudices. There are just some words, spellings, phrases, and grammatical errors that drive me bonkers. So I will share some of my pet peeves here, and please share yours too! And if you want, do go ahead and tell me my pet peeves are ridiculous.

WORDS, SPELLINGS, AND PHRASES I UTTERLY LOATHE:

alot
alright
bobbed wire (or bobwire)
congradulations
could care less (for couldn’t care less, unless used sarcastically)
decimate (for exterminate — decimate means killing ten percent)
infer (when imply is meant)
lay (used for lie)
literally (when used as merely an intensifier; e.g. “Paris Hilton is literally American royalty”)
more unique, most unique

WORDS, USAGES, AND PHRASES THAT I KNOW ARE ACCEPTABLE NOW, BUT WHICH I HATE ANYWAY, AND AM WILLING TO JOIN THE ARMY OF RESISTANCE AGAINST:

comprise (in the modern American sense)
livid (meaning either red or angry)

Well, that’s all I can think of at the moment. What are your pet peeves? Do any of my pet peeves strike you as small-minded? Please share!

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet!!!!

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged | 19 Replies


A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.Thomas Mann, German writer (1875 – 1955)

I can’t do this. I can. No, I really can’t. This is terrible. Why am I wasting my time? Why can’t I be as good as [insert fantastic author here].

Yeah, welcome to the inside of my head. I’ve been working on a second Regency-set historical, and it is about 2/3rds of the way done. But–and this is a big but–I’m not sure if it’s good. I’ve got a lot of ends to tie up, some to undo in the first place still, and I worry I’m just writing loads of words where nothing happens.

My case is not unusual. In fact, I doubt if there are any authors out there who haven’t had the same derisive little voices lodged inside their heads (well, all except Barbara Cartland, who apparently thought she was all that and a side of fries). So–given that giving up is not an option, how do we rise above (which, of course, reminds me of hardcore band Black Flag‘s song “Rise Above,” which is an anthemic triumph. But I digress–a natural problem when one is beset by insecurities.

A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: 1. What am I trying to say? 2. What words will express it? 3. What image or idiom will make it clearer? 4. Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?
George Orwell, “Politics and the English Language”, 1946, English essayist, novelist, & satirist (1903 – 1950)

Last week, I printed my whole manuscript out and read it over with a pen and some post-its in hand. I edited, wrote down themes and plot points I needed to bring in and/or flesh out, and this week I’ve been incorporating the smaller edits and am getting prepared to dive in for the bigger stuff. But what if it still stinks?

Keep writing. Keep doing it and doing it. Even in the moments when it’s so hurtful to think about writing.Heather Armstrong, Keynote Speech, SXSW 2006

My mind has been chasing itself in circles, nutty dog style. Can I assemble a plotting group? Should I revisit the synopsis and try to nail down my story? Do I just plunge back in and start writing again and see where the story takes me (“. . . to Stinkyville,” my mind answers. Shut up, mind!).

You must keep sending work out; you must never let a manuscript do nothing but eat its head off in a drawer. You send that work out again and again, while you’re working on another one. If you have talent, you will receive some measure of success – but only if you persist.
Isaac Asimov, US science fiction novelist & scholar (1920 – 1992)

Stay tuned. I guess if I were secure, I’d be content with my stinky story, and wonder why my readers (if, indeed, this manuscript reaches the point of publication) didn’t like it as much as I did.

We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to.
W. Somerset Maugham, English dramatist & novelist (1874 – 1965)

And now–back to the work-in-progress.

Megan

www.meganframpton.com

Posted in Writing | Tagged | 7 Replies

As I mentioned in my last post here, I’m working on a road romance that opens in the immediate aftermath of the Battle of New Orleans. Since my heroine is a third or fourth generation New Orleans native, I’ve been reading up on the early history of the city to get a feel for her world and how it shaped her.

By sheer luck I stumbled across a book called The Accidental City: Improvising New Orleans, by Lawrence N. Powell. It covers the history of the city from its founding through the Battle of New Orleans, and it’s full of lovely footnotes I’m mining for more detailed sources of what life was like when the Crescent City looked something like this:

New Orleans 1803

To my vast surprise, I discovered that the demography and culture of 19th century New Orleans were impacted, and significantly so, by a part of history I know much better–the Peninsular War. You see, much of the Francophone population of 19th century New Orleans did not in fact descend from the original settlers, but from refugees from the Haitian Revolution in 1804. At first the refugees went to Cuba and were accepted there, since France and Spain were then allies. But when Napoleon invaded Spain in 1808 and put his brother Joseph on the throne, the French were no longer welcome in a Spanish possession like Cuba…so they fled to New Orleans, which had been in neutral American hands since 1803.

Who knows what other unexpected connections I’ll discover as I continue to explore New Orleans, the Natchez Trace, and the rest of 1815 America? Right now I’m just hoping to find a Louisiana cookbook from sometime close to my time period, so I’ll know what foods to make my heroine homesick for!

I do big chunks of writing on Saturday afternoons. That’s when the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts live, and I find it interesting that opera, or the human voice, helps me write. Most of the music I listen to when I write is vocal, for reasons I can’t quite fathom–sure, opera has all that passion and over-the-top emotion, and it’s all about love, jealousy, revenge, murder, and dying twice in a sack.

I find, too, that real, hardcore opera fans are rather like trad regency fans in their enthusiasm and encyclopaedic knowledge. Just listen to the half-time, sorry, intermission quiz at the Met, where a panel of experts answer opera trivia questions.

So what was a visit to the opera like in the regency period? First, you got value for money. An evening at the opera was l-o-n-g, though not in the sense of Ring Cycle long. It wasn’t entirely about the music, although people cared passionately about particular singers and might pause in their card-playing, drinking, or socializing to listen to a popular aria. Then as now, operas featured fabulous costumes and great sets and stage effects.

The major London theater for opera was The King’s Theatre, Haymarket, renamed Her Majesty’s Theatre (its current name) in 1837 when Victoria came to the throne. Like most historic London theaters, it burned down regularly during its history, and the Regency-era version, the second on the site, opened in 1791. It was the venue for the London premiers of many of Mozart’s operas.


A popular star was Giuseppe Naldi, seen here as Figaro in The Marriage of Figaro, which made its London debut in 1812 (although the opera had had an amateur performance in 1810 and its tunes were already well known–the Coldstream Guards had adopted Non piu andrai, one of the opera’s greatest hits, as its slow march in 1787). Naldi, not apparently a terrific singer but popular for his acting and warm personality, was something of a Mozart comic specialist, appearing as Leporello in Don Giovanni (which debuted at the King’s Theatre in 1816) and Papageno in The Magic Flute.


Sadly the King’s Theatre burned down again in 1867, but the Royal Opera Arcade, built behind the theater by John Nash and George Reston in 1816-1818 still survives.

But back to my original topic. What do you like to listen to when you write, or read? Do you have books you associate with particular music? Favorite London theaters, operas, great performances…?

 

 

 

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