Inspiration is flowing (revising is not!)

I think we’re supposed to be answering where we get inspiration for our current project? In my previous post, about the “when” and “how” of writing, I included a few sources of inspiration: walking at night with my dog, having seriously creepy and malicious neighbors, MUSIC--both for mood of characters and setting and also to help me with word count issues on picture books. I also mentioned that I wrote a book about a girl whose family moves, inspired by need in my school social work job. My work with children and families in the fields of child welfare, mental health, and education provided many ideas as to more issue-oriented stories, as have my own life experiences with infertility and adoption. I think about writing adoption stories that are helpful to parents as well as picture books for young children. Catholicism is chock-full of ideas with which the characters in my YA or adult novel will struggle. I definitely want to explore themes like how young women find their identities or let others define them, the nature of love, spirituality versus religion, what it means to be a “good” person.

It’s kind of surprising to me how once I got out of the technical grad-school writing mode and re-opened the creative part of my brain, I could find bits of inspiration everywhere. If I’m walking at night, the foggy silence (with “mistful” moon of course!) could lend itself to an entire scene playing out in my head. Or maybe I pass by something that could become a small piece of some future story--like this house on my usual route where different bird houses, chimes, and weather instruments hang from nearly every branch of the tree in the backyard. Perhaps a painting or photograph of a person or building catches my eye. Maybe I snap a picture myself if something strikes me--an eerily-lit tree or a path winding through the woods?

As mentioned in my previous post, perhaps parts of conversations I overhear will transform into complete characters or whole plotlines. I love words in general, and a funny turn of phrase or an interesting quote could conjure up new facets of characters already living in my brain. News stories that pop up online get filed away for potential later use (mystery of New England’s “dark day” in 1780 solved, European village where rent hasn’t changed since 1520, scholar claims to find lost Jewish capital of the Khazars). If I am writing for a class deadline, I might simply think about what holidays are approaching--Mother’s Day? Halloween? Out comes a picture book story. The most fun ideas come from my 4-year-old. I often jot down the funny things he says and think how I could build stories around them.

As far as my current project? That would be gestating twins and trying to move to a bigger house. Instead of jotting down a hundred ideas for “later,” I should really focus on trying to revise the drafts of things already completed. Since my doc is quite conservative, bedrest may end up being my inspiration...

Oh The Places You'll Go

Inspiration unfortunately isn't tangible, it floats in and out of my head like the wind. I wish I could call upon it at will. Sometimes it comes at night in between dreams, when I'm too tired to write it down. Sometimes it just turns on in my brain like a light bulb.

Part of the inspiration to write my current project came from my Dad's interest in the Civil War. When I was little he would bring my older brothers to battlefields for vacation and we would all tag along (I have 7 siblings). We also visited my cousin who lived in a antebellum home in Georgia. We traveled in an RV ( so much material there). I fell in love with the time period and the South. I didn't realize then what an impact these trips would have on me.

The romantic in me was also inspired from a laptop-sized writing desk that's been in my Dad's side of the family since the Civil War. In the desk is a letter my great-great grandfather wrote to his wife while he was away at war. These people that lived so long ago fascinated me. It's a shame my Dad didn't live to know I was inspired by his interests, I wonder what he would have thought of my novel writing.

All of these thoughts were in the back of my head until the idea to write a novel came to the surface. I have to acknowledge the kids I worked with at school for actually making me want to write. They inspired my creativity. It was amusing to see their different personalities and watching the little ones faces as they were read a story. I posted one of the murals I painted for those kids. Dr. Seuss will always be an inspiration for me. If I could have an ounce of his originality, I'd be content.

Enough is Enough

What can I say? I am a child grasping with the throes of growing up, maturing, whatever you want to call it. My ideas come from my childhood zeal for all things adventurous and fantastic. I have come up with my book ideas at random times but all in the spirit of my fervor for movies, comics, and books. There really is no one place I draw inspiration from. No place I go to. No well of original ideas I can dip my bucket brain into. I have had to create the place really. Sure there are places where the wheels start turning but the real great ideas I formed in no particular place.

I do draw inspiration from the structures of stories that I love to watch or read. What kind of a story should I tell? There are only a certain amount of stories all of which share similar plot elements. I learned that in high school. So pick a kind of story and then make it your own. Create a world then tell a structured story. Is it an adventure story? Is it a suspense/thriller? Is it all of the above? One thing I promise myself to do is try to make my story different enough to be considered original. Blazing my own trail is paramount for me to continue my writing endeavors.

With my "original" ideas I write my stories. I suppose I write stories thanking those who have written or created an awesome world that I enjoyed in my man and childhood whether in film, book, or theme park form. Lastly, I get my ideas and motivation from a need to stop living in other people's imaginations and creations. A great deal of my life is spent reading other people's words, watching other people's movies, and playing in other people's worlds. One day I decided I had had enough. I needed to create my own worlds people could live in and enjoy. So I did and I love it here. I just hope that someday more people can enjoy the world I have created with me.

Where do you get your ideas?

For years my writing was driven by need: 12 lessons of Bible stories with crafts and games or a chapter on kid’s clothing including a song about underwear. Only recently have the gates of inspiration been open to whatever wanders in. Since I wrote short picture books, the traffic is varied!




My most recent completed project came from a trip to Tucson, AZ, where I encountered and fell in love with javalinas. That little porcine is as yet undiscovered in Various Slush Piles of Hope.




Now after reading a couple of adult books on arctic exploration I am almost done tracking the adventures of a collard lemming settling in for winter on the tundra.

Past stories still ambling out and back have involved flightless dragons, misplaced dandelions, and a frog who has been stuck against one particular “not right for our list” wall for almost a decade. I believe in the right climate, with the right publisher…they will find a home.

And I continually return to the phrase above my computer: “What are you working on next?” There is always another story out there. Right now I’m thinking about a bush dance in Australia…

The Writing Universe

Music playing, check. Children sleeping, check. Husband snoring, check. check. My most productive hours are at night. Everything is quiet and still besides the rapid movement of my fingers across the keyboard. It is just me and whatever story I am working on. I am one with the Writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well. Except, before I reach this harmonious stage, I am T.S. Elliot's Prufock : "And time yet for a hundred indecisions, / And for a hundred visions and revisions, . . . And indeed there will be time / To wonder "Do I dare" and "Do I dare" . . . Do I dare / Disturb the Universe / In a minute there is time / For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."

But my thought process is not as poetic as Elliot's. It is much more chaotic, sounding something like this: Which manuscript should I work on? Why revise an old one when I can start on something new? Don't you dare start something new. I should finish something I've started. No, revise something I've finished. But, I can always do that later. So, what should I do now?

Once I have decided on a manuscript with very little effort, as you can see, I began to write. I am one with the writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well

Then my furry companion comes along, a cosmic collision in my Universe.

Let me out. Please let me back in. Give me water. The little one forgot to feed me.

Once her needs are met or I have chosen to ignore her, she usually falls into a deep slumber near the couch.

Now, it's time for me to start writing, again. My mind is set to launch, to imagine, to create. I am one with the Writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well.

Before I finish for the night, I wonder, "Do I dare and Do I dare . . . Do I dare / Disturb the Universe?"

Kennedy, the cosmic collision in my Universe

Sneaking Around

OK. So here I sit in Borders. I think this is the first time I've ever sneaked out in the middle of the day to write. My mother-in-law is watching the kids. She told me to go get some errands done. I grabbed my purse and flew out the door without mentioning that I really only had one small thing to do.

Now I find myself sipping a latte, thinking that this probably wasn't what she intended when she sent me out and offered to empty my dishwasher. Although it's possible that she wouldn't mind once she found out what a real treat this is to me.

Like a few of my fellow bloggers, I usually only get to write after my family has gone to sleep. Don't get me wrong. I'm a night owl and the later it gets, the more creative I become.

Except for the last few weeks. I seem to be suffering from writer's block. In fact, it's worse than block. I've been avoiding the computer altogether for a few days. I've got a lot of decisions to make about my storyline and I think I'm unsure how to do it.

I'm applying for a writer's retreat and a manuscript review, which means I will have to revisit my first 20-25 pages. Maybe doing so will clarify things.

As for the above picture, we don't have a furry pet, only a fish, and he is not very photogenic. I don't like to be left out, so here is a photo from my children's menagerie. His name is Faris and he makes a great pillow when I'm called in to chase the monsters away. Come to think of it, I actually have had a number of great plot ideas while performing this duty. Hey, maybe it will be Faris who helps propel me out of this funk.

However, it's probably best not to depend on a $3.99 donkey pillow from Walmart and to use my remaining stolen time at this bookstore to try to make my own story magic happen instead.

How and Where of Binge Writing

I must say that I, too, am a binge writer. If I can have many hours of uninterrupted writing, I take it. A lot of times it is necessitated by pending deadlines, but it is how I would prefer to write. I also greatly prefer to write late at night. I could easily start late at night and stay up writing till morning, then go to sleep...if there weren’t people who needed to be taken care of or jobs to get to. Since coffee shops (and their outlets and free wi-fi) in the suburbs aren’t open past 10pm, the late-night writing occurs at home, often sitting on the couch with the laptop when everyone else is asleep. I am so hoping that when we move to a bigger home, I can find a dedicated “writing space” that is mine only. I feel that a dedicated space would help me to also have more scheduled time for writing--an hour or two each day. It used to seem crazy, that you could “force” inspiration into a schedule, but that’s not the issue anymore. New ideas spring forth all the time and now there are pages and pages of ideas waiting for scheduled thought.

In the meantime, if it’s a weekend and I need to get everyone out of my head but my characters, I will escape with the laptop to the local library or one of the coffee shops. It can be difficult to tune out conversations of others, who are shockingly uninhibited about discussing in public whatever topics cross their minds, using whatever verbiage escapes their lips. So sometimes I give in. I open my “ideas” document and I start jotting down some of the things I am hearing, they way people phrase things, what the people look like, and what my own responses might be if I were a person at that table. I might even imagine where they live, work, go to school, what their relationships and families are like, what they do for fun, what their political and religious leanings are, what music and movies they like.

Often the best time for inspiration happens when I am out walking/running the dog. In the dark, of course. I even bought a digital voice recorder so that I could just say the thoughts aloud as they came to me. Sometimes it was scenes of dialogue, which would have been hilarious or possibly worrisome if anyone ever did happen to pass us in those late hours. However, if I were speaking into the recorder, that would interfere with listening to my music, which greatly spurred my thoughts. I would listen to playlists of songs that fit with the mood of a particular scene or theme of the story or songs with which my characters would identify. So I opted to just listen to the music, try and retain everything that popped into my head during the outing till I could get in the door, grab the laptop and furiously type. Since these outings with my dog, Shamrock, were so good for my writing health as well as my physical health, I shall make his picture famous here.

I guess the last thing I’ll say about the how of writing is that music really does help me. In addition to what I described above for longer stories, I do find it useful for picture books. When I was working on the ideas and sounds for a story about a kitchen band, I was listening to three or four songs from my son’s music class about playing in the kitchen and tricks with rhythm sticks, sometimes listening intently to the different sounds so I could find accurate words to convey them. In writing picture books, I often must confront the issue of word count. Publishers certainly do not want anything over 1000 words, usually nothing over 800 words, even better if less than 600 or 700 words. How to tell a story in fewer words? It does help to look at successfully published picture books, but it also helps me to listen to certain songs.

Sometimes it’s the imagery and mood conveyed by the lyrics: the sheer beauty described in Van Morrison’s “Sweet Thing,” the hopefulness of The Beatles’ “Dear Prudence,” the intensity of obsession in the scenes of The Pixies’ “Cactus,” the horror and dread of Jeff Buckley’s “Nightmares by the Sea,” the incredible sadness in the images of Elton John’s “Empty Garden” tribute to John Lennon. Other songs tell entire stories in far less than 600 words, with very specific phrases and images: Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill”, “Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues, “Message in a Bottle” by the Police, “Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon, “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John. Heck, the Beatles describe entire lifetimes in songs like “In my Life” and “Ob-la-de, Ob-la-da.” Why can’t I whittle down my far less poignant picture book???

There are songs that simply have lines that would easily lend themselves to illustrations: “I was a willow last night in a dream, I bent down over a clear-running stream.”--Heart, “Crazy on You.”
“You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht. Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot.” Not to mention the dreams that were clouds in Carly Simon’s coffee in “You’re So Vain.” And the songs that effectively use humor to describe the story: “And now you know that I suck at this, and you suck at it, too. And now we’re nothing more than vampires in love.”--Marvelous 3, “Vampires in Love.”

So if you see me in your local cafe with my earphones in, I may be concentrating on one of these songs for guidance. But I may be faking it and instead listening to your conversation next to me. Watch out, you may end up in my novel...