Posted in Backstory, Writing, Writing craft

One writer’s New Year’s promise – to herself

Happy New Year 2015And so that time of year upon us again.  You know the one – where news organizations begin publishing their greatest stories of the year lists, the weather networks offer us a list of the ten worst storms of the year gone by, and the rest of us tally up what we’ve done, and more precisely, what we are planning to do.  I have never been a person to make New Year’s resolutions.

First, as a professor for the bulk of my working life, New Year’s has always been the first Wednesday after Labor Day – the first day of classes on my particular campus.  Now that was the time for making a new start.  But January 1?  Not so much.

This year I’ve been thinking about what the word resolution really means.  Who knew that it had so many different nuances of meaning?

According to the Oxford English dictionary[1] it can mean (among other more specific things) any of the following:

  • “A firm decision to do or not to do something;”
  • “The action of solving a problem or contentious matter;”
  • “The process of reducing or separating something into constituent parts or components.”
  • To resolve to do something means to “Decide firmly on a course of action.”[2]

Clearly, when people say they are making New Year’s resolutions, they mean they are making a firm decision to either do something, or refrain from doing something.  A firm decision.  I’m thinking that making a decision is not necessarily enough to actually get you to act on that resolution.  Perhaps we need something more.

That got me thinking about making promises.  What does a promise have that a resolution doesn’t?  Back to the Oxford English dictionary I went.

  • A promise is “A declaration or assurance that one will do something or that a particular thing will happen;” which seems to me to be a synonym for what a New Year’s resolution is, but…
  • To make a promise means to “assure someone that one will definitely do something or that something will happen.”[3]

So, I guess semantically they seem to be much the same, at least as far as their denotative definitions go.  But what about that connotative definition?  In my mind they are different.

A resolution to me seems a bit business-like, clinical, removed.  On the other hand, a promise seems more personal, closer to the bone.  For me, the promise holds more sway.  Keeping promises is a value that I cherish, far above the notion of keeping resolutions.  So, what am I promising myself this year?

My 2015 promise to myself is to finish what I start, and that includes what has already been started but not finished.  Oh, I don’t mean finishing those manuscripts that in my heart of hearts I know were just for practice.  I mean finishing the ones that I know are meant to be finished.  That means that between now and the end of 2015 I have to finish two novels.

I think that those of us who write – whether for personal growth and a sense of accomplishment – or for a living (or both for the ideal writer’s life) all have unfinished business.  Maybe you’ll join me in making 2015 the year of getting the finish line.  Let me know how you’re doing!

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

[1] http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/resolution?searchDictCode=all

[2] http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/resolve?searchDictCode=all

[3] http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/promise?searchDictCode=all

Posted in Creativity, Writing

Why we write what we write

Man Reading Book and Sitting on Bookshelf in LibraryJust like most writers out there in the twenty-first century, I follow a number of writer/author groups and blogs.  I suspect, though, that I follow far fewer than many writers.  I believe we need to spend more time writing than talking about writing; but that’s just me.  Apart from the extreme time suck involved in participation in these online groups, one of the other primary reasons for my reluctance to get more involved is because I really don’t find that many kindred spirits in them.  Perhaps that shouldn’t matter to me, but it does.

For example, just this morning, I received an email from a LinkedIn site that I follow in a general kind of way.  A participant in the discussion posted the following gem as a discussion starter:

“I want to embark on fiction but I just do not have the imagination to concoct stories and plots. Can anyone share with me how successful novelists repeatedly fabricate stories?”

Now, I would expect bona fide writers on this forum to weigh in as follows: If you have no imagination and no stories to tell, you clearly shouldn’t write fiction. End of story.  But, no, that’s not what they said.

One actually started his response by saying that it was a great question.  A great question?  Are you kidding? It is a moronic question in my view and epitomizes what’s wrong with open access to publishing.  There are so many people out there today who actually do have stories to tell and can’t get them published that I shudder to think what will happen to the literary world when self-published books become nothing more than the yearnings of wannabe fiction writers who really want to have written a book – not to actually write one.

Another “writer” suggested to the poster without imagination that he simply mine his own life.  That should be good.  No imagination needed there, I guess.

Someone else told him to read.  Another told him to take a ride on public transport – in response to the very astute comment of one responder who actually had the temerity to say, “If you lack the imagination…why start?”  Bravo to that honest writer who is like me.  What a surprise it was for me to find a like-minded writer in an online forum.

What I want to know is why someone wants to write fiction if he has no story to tell and admits upfront that he lacks imagination.   All the creative thinking suggestions in the world will not help if there is no imagination to carry an idea through.

Arthur Schopenhauer thought a lot about writing and why we write.
Arthur Schopenhauer thought a lot about writing and why we write.

German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer probably had it right in The Art of Literature when he said, “There are, first of all, two kinds of authors: those who write for the subject’s sake, and those who write for writing’s sake. […] The truth is that when an author begins to write for the sake of covering paper, he is cheating the reader; because he writes under the pretext that he has something to say.”  People can write whatever they want and I encourage them to do so.  Much of what we write, however, should not be published.

I think that there are people who truly want to write because they have something they want to say, and those who simply want to have written a book.  The former makes a life –even if it doesn’t’ pay the bills.  The latter makes for good cocktail hour conversation.

Posted in Writing, Writing craft

The disciplined writer: Keeping a promise to yourself

Our back deck beckons while I need to work on my new book.
Our back deck beckons while I need to work on my new book.

It’s summer.  The heat and humidity just beg us to take a cold drink outside and chill a bit.  And we deserve it, don’t we?  The problem is that without some self-discipline nothing will get done.  And I know that my two major writing projects that are currently underway will not write themselves!  So I’ve been thinking about discipline as an important tool for any writer’s tool box.

The truth is that when it comes to your writing, it is yours and yours alone.  From time to time you might be given an external point of reference such as a deadline – I’ve written about the beauty of a deadline before– but even then discipline for a writer means self-discipline.

Self-control. Self-restraint. Willpower. Regardless of what you call it, the concept is clear for your writing life: you need to be in control of your writing and motivate yourself to complete projects.  No one will do it for you.

One of the most serious problems with writerly self-discipline in the twenty-first century is the ever-present internet.  A quick Twitter and Google search will leave you with the impression that unknown writers spend much more time on social media sites than they do in their writing.  Social media is a serious time suck.

As you sit there in front of your computer screen attempting to get that writing project underway or finished, unless the ideas begin to flow immediately, there is a mighty temptation to surf over to Twitter or that writers’ group you’ve been meaning to comment in, or to Facebook to see who has posted something new on that page for aspiring authors.  You can delude yourself into thinking that it’s for your work, but what it really means is that you are singularly unable to discipline yourself to actually write.

Close your internet browser. Close your email.  Put your phone away so you can’t hear it if a text arrives.

Harry Truman once said, “If I want to be great I have to win victory over myself. ..self-discipline.”

This is so important to me as I make progress on those writing projects.  I made a promise to myself when I started each one: the promise that I’d have a finished manuscript in due course.  This is a promise I’m keeping to myself – summer or not!