Avoid Writer's Block

What is writer's block? Traditionally it's seen as when a writer is unable to produce new work. They stare at a blank screen and nothing happens. It's like a brick wall in the way of one's ability to write.

I don't get writer's block, not in this sense. I'm not bragging. I have plenty of other imperfections in my writing, but I understand what writer's block really is and I avoid it. If only I could do the same with typos, awkward similes, and using the word "little" ironically way too much. I'll learn to avoid those someday.

Here are the reasons I see writers get themselves blocked up and unable to write.

Lack of Passion. Sometimes a writer will start a project that just doesn't appeal to them. This makes it easy to lose focus and your desire to continue with it.

Something is Wrong. If your subconscious knows that something you wrote or are about to write doesn't work, it will shut you down. This can be any number of things. You wrote about a character doing something outside his or her abilities or personality. You may have decided to change a plot line and it destroyed previous lines altogether. You may have written a scene that has no place in the finished book. You are planning to write a scene that doesn't play well with the ones around it. There are so many things to get wrong.

No Idea What Comes Next. Yeah, we've all started something that seemed wondrous and exciting and then our imagination runs out and we feel stuck, unsure what to do next.

Distractions. Facebook, internet, google+, twitter, and all those other things can be great tools. They also can get in the way. Then there's friends, family, jobs, screaming children, dogs, cats, that dripping noise that is driving you crazy, dishes, laundry, food, and so much more to distract you from writing.

Now, here's how I deal with them.

Write What You Love! If something isn't really clicking with you deep down, if you don't care about it, what do you think your readers will do? That's right, they'll feel the lack of passion and lack of soul and set it down unhappy and unsatisfied. Make sure you love your project and you won't find yourself losing a desire to finish it.

Listen to Your Subconscious! If something isn't working, figure out what it is and fix it. I have also found a way to cheat around this type of block. If I come to a scene that just doesn't work and I feel stuck, I skip it. I jump to a scene that is working and write that one. You can always come back to the older scene and mess with it later after inspiration has struck.

Do Your Prewriting! Before I started my first book, I rolled it around in my head for months. I ran conversations and scenes through until I knew what needed to be done. Most of my prewriting is done in bed. I stare at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep at night, and I think through upcoming scenes. Sometimes something will happen in my brain, puzzle pieces snapping together perfectly, and I have to jump out of bed and write for a couple hours before I lose whatever magic just happened.

Sometimes nothing happens and I fall asleep, but I often wake up hours later with a similar snapping together of ideas and can jump out of bed and go write. I do prewriting in the morning too. I stay in bed for half an hour after I wake up, running my mind through writing drills, preparing for my next scene, or just getting myself psyched to write a conversation that needs to happen.

Prewriting and skipping scenes will also help when you don't know what to write and inspiration fails you. Staring up at the ceiling while imagining your world and characters on that blank canvas will open portals in your mind to cool new places and experiences you thought you could never dream up. Don't let anyone get after you for being lazy, looking dazed, or doing nothing. It is a vital part of writing and loosens up your subconscious. You need your subconscious to fill in those blank pages and missing plot points. You need it active and healthy.

Limit Your Distractions! Lock yourself in a closet with your laptop if you have to. Shut off the router so you can't access the internet. Those social networks can wait a couple hours for you, I promise you won't miss as much as you think. Find the type of music that helps you write. Find the time that you write best. I write best late at night of early in the morning, when my subconscious is most active and wants to be dreaming. Tell your friends and family when your writing time is and that they cannot disturb you for anything short of an apocalyptic emergency. Zombies better be massing in the streets!

Sit Your Butt Down, Put Your Hands on the Keyboard, and Write! I have these moments where the words flow from me like warm honey and crystallize on the screen in perfect patterns that need no revision. I'll reread them months later and tears will form in my eyes as that amazing I'm-a-freaking-writer-feeling fills me once more.

THESE MOMENTS ARE RARE AND FLEETING!! Most of the time, I sit down and write half decent garbage that will need months of revisions, therapy, exercise, cuts, and voice lessons before it will be even half of what I want it to be. That is normal. Don't get in your own way. Don't trash your work or lose hope. Don't go back and try to fix everything. Don't get discouraged and sad. Allow yourself to suck and your writing will prosper and grow. Those golden moments when the writing flows wondrously from your fingertips will come more often, though not as often as you would like.

Bad News

I got some bad news today that left me feeling a little down about my decision to indie publish. I'll write a huge post about the whole thing on Monday or Tuesday. I'm hoping all my bloggety friends are well this weekend. You have been amazingly supportive. I hope you're okay with some venting. Maybe I'll do a funny comic post on Monday to break things up. Yeah. That would be good for all of us. Thanks again. You are freaking awesome. I couldn't ask for better online, virtual, mostly unmet friends.

Charlie

The Crystal Bridge and Me Talking to Myself

I'm here today to do an interview with myself. Sounds crazy, I know.

Writers are slightly crazy to begin with. We have all these characters in our heads, whispering, shouting, giggling nonstop, or whimpering in the corner. We invent them, give them a voice all their own, and come up with their personal way of viewing the world. How crazy is that? To have these complete or semi-complete people floating around in our heads?

My novel has like forty-two point of view characters. That makes me extra crazy. It’s not really that many, closer to ten, but you get the point. Talking to myself isn’t much of a stretch. So, here goes.

Q: What’s the story behind this whole The Crystal Bridge thingy?

A: Thingy? I’m glad I’m the writer out of the two of us.

Q: I know, right? Dodged a bullet there.

A: Okay, the novel originally came into my head as two separate dreams. Dream one was about a boy who could open wormholes to other worlds. Nobody else could see them and he always returned to the same moment he left, unchanged. So, no one believed him. Dream two was about a lab creating holographic simulations that began reaching into alternate worlds with some odd side effects.  Several interesting characters emerged the more I thought about these strange dreams.

Q: How did these separate dreams become one?

A: My wife suggested that I should combine them, so I did.

Q: Smart man.

A: This is true.

Q: Tell me about some of these other characters.

A: Well, Kaden is the teen boy with the wormholes. Aren is a teenage girl who can see and experience other people’s memories as though they were her own. James is a geneticist obsessed with dragons, Angie is his boss, running the genetic simulations department for one of the bad guys, Vander. I have more characters who pop up on the other world and a villain creature that lives between universes. I could go on and on. There’s Evandrel, Hasla, Dveldor, Taggert, and—

Q: Let’s stop there. We don’t want to give too much away, do we?

A: Um…I guess not.

Q: You really want to say one more character’s name, don’t you?

A: And Lyle. Lyle’s pretty cool.

Q: Feel better?

A: Much, thank you.

Q: Sounds complex. Where do you find inspiration for your stories?

A: Didn’t I already mention dreams?

Q: Did you?

A: I’m pretty sure forgetting a conversation you had three seconds ago with yourself isn’t a good sign. You may need help.

Q: Probably right. Mostly dreams then?

A: Yes. I have six or seven stories floating around my noggin that have all come from dreams. I’m very lucky, I know. While most people dream of scary clowns, losing their teeth, or flying, I end up with nano-genetic mutations, wormholes, soul thieves, and talking magical doorknobs.

Q: Talking what now?

A: Doorknobs, well, just one actually. So…doorknob. That will be in another novel later. The doorknob also walks around in a trench-coat to hide his brassy features. I think I’ll call him DK.

Q: I’m sorry I asked. Weirdo.

A: That’s me. Isn’t it great?

Q: Great…yes. That’s the word I was looking for. So any plans for a sequel with The Crystal Bridge?

A: Originally, no, but ideas crept into the story anyway. Then I had another dream. At least one more novel, possibly two. I’ve got some great twists planned and we’ll see how the wormholes interact with Aren’s gift more and then the quantum—

Q: Wow. Look at the time. This is all very interesting, but it’s all we have time for today.

A: You just looked at your wrist. Are you trying to get rid of me?

Q: What? Me? Never. I’m nothing without you. You complete me.

A: Yep, you’re right. When you start giving yourself false compliments, it’s time to wrap it up.

Q: I couldn’t have said it better.

A: I’m sure you could have. Or, I could have in the first place. I am a writer.

Q: Are you finished?

A: Yes, sorry.

Q: Thank you, Charles, for joining me today.

A: My pleasure, honestly. Thank you, Charles, for having me and for the wonderful questions. It was fun. And thank you, Charles, for letting us put a little of my crazy on your blog. You most likely won’t regret it.

The Crystal Bridge is available here:

Kindle Version 

Print Version

Nook Version

Cover art by Karl-Erik Bennion

Insecure Writers Unite!

I stumbled across this blog today by Alex J. Cavenaugh. He put together a group of bloggy types who also happen to be neurotic writers. Sounds like my kind of people, right?

He calls this list The Insecure Writer's Support Group. If you write in some form or another, you should check it out. Fun group of people. I'm supposed to list off things I worry about or things I've overcome.

What I've overcome: Knowing my writing is good enough.

Writers have issues with confidence. I know this makes us sound a little pathetic, like we sit around and worry while we type.

We do. I used to worry about my writing, if it was good enough. I'm past that stage. I know it's good. I've written long enough and read so many books that I can safely say my novel is a polished piece of art. I'm excited to release it. I know people will love it, be astonished at the twists, cry a little when someone dies, and get a rush of adrenaline when the characters overcome an obstacle. This took years of practice and research, but I'm positive I'm an excellent writer.

This doesn't mean I've stopped worrying.

Now I worry about money and marketing. Will it pay the bills? Can I sell enough to make this indie publishing thing worthwhile? How do I market to many many people? Do I start looking for a real job now...or next week? If I hide in the pantry and cry, will I feel better? Don't worry. I don't actually cry in the pantry. It's too small.

Writing is hard and scary. Think about it. Language is so ethereal. We take sounds and stick them to letters. Clump a few letters together and you have a word. Throw some words together and you have a sentence. Line up enough sentences and a story forms out of those small representations of sounds. Crazy isn't it? Can you get more abstract? Language is the most fragile and powerful of constructions. I am grateful to be a part of that, even if I feel lost sometimes.

Writing takes practice, work, luck, and time. Being good isn't always enough, but we all hope it will be when we set our little creations free for everyone to read and judge. Hope, just four little representatives for random sounds, is all we have.

Unicorn Poop

I remember being lied to as a child. I was told I could be anything, do anything. Work hard and get an education and life will reward you with all your dreams and wishes. I was also promised a flying car. Lies.

Somewhere above us is a dream factory. Unicorns are working hard squeezing out our marshmello dreams. These dreams roll down the rainbow conveyor belts and drop magically down upon us. Somewhere along the line my conveyor belt has slipped. Somewhere up there rainbow belts are falling to the cloud floor, dreams are crashing into one another, fires are igniting, alarms are sounding, and unicorns are running around crazy with hard hats and marmalade extinguishers.

In all honesty, I do believe in education and hard work. I don't believe that all your dreams can come true, but some can. You can't wait for the rainbows to drop them on you though. You have to have a plan.

I had a plan once. Get a degree in English Literature, get a Masters, teach college, get a PhD, write and teach. I got sucked into the hotel industry while I went to school and was perfectly content to do so for a while. Then the plan slipped. Now, I am working 50 to 60 hours a week, my cholesterol is out of control, I never get weekends or holidays off, and my soul hurts. I barely write and I never get to teach. I am looking for the exit. My soul cannot take the crushing much longer.

My dream is to write, draw, carve, paint, design, teach, and refinish furniture. Random, I know, but it could work. I would also like to be fabulously wealthy. Like I said, you can't have all your dreams. I am letting the wealthy thing go...and the flying car, though begrudgingly.

My wife and I have implemented our plan to break me out of the hotel industry. We are dropping to basic cable and will no longer eat out. Sacrifice is painful, but chafes your soul much less than self compromise. This should save us anywhere from $3,000 to $5,000 a year. This money will go towards debt and savings. Once we have our credit cards gone and about $7,000 in savings, I am safe to take some risk and jump into making money on my own through my random talents. I have the business license already set up to refinish furniture. I can write and paint all I want once I have the time as long as I actually sell my stuff. This is the plan and we will stick to it this time. No allowing for distracti...ooooohhh...look at that shiny...No! No distractions. We will make these dreams a reality if I have to climb up there and wrestle them from those sticky dream-master's hooves.

Put on Notice

I am a little near sighted. I wear glasses to drive. It doesn't mean much more than that. I have to take my glasses off to read, eat, or deal with anything close up. I can hold a piece of coconut shell up and see the tiniest lines, cracks, and patterns. I think it makes me a better artist.

It also means I notice things...random things, little things. This blog will be a near sighted writer's perspective on the world. I intend to make you see things in new ways and experience the world in all its tiny majesty and wonder. Yes, I may occasionally mention large scale things of note. I wear glasses after all and can see into the distance just fine with augmentation.

Today's World Notice is grain. Not those chunks in your sandwich bread or what your doctor told you to eat more of whole. I'm talking wood people. Next time you sit down at your kitchen table, sit in your passed down rocking chair, or find yourself in a job interview across from an intimidating woman in a pinstripe suit sitting at some ancient desk...look at the grain.

That is life etched into the surface of that chunk of lumber. Years of growth as minerals and water were pulled from the earth. It is dry seasons and wet seasons, fire, wind, the migration of birds, the relentless movement of the sun. Run your hand across it. Feel the minute ridges and grooves. Feel the warmth of the wood, the smooth gloss from polish and use. It is more than just a pretty stain. The grain of the wood is there to remind us that time marches on. Time leaves its marks.

We can see the ridges and lines on our exterior surface as we age, but we cannot see the marks left within ourselves. As time flows away into the past behind us, marks are left inside each one of us. My soul is lined and knotted with my past mistakes, golden with my triumphs. Oh, what a pretty desk I would make...