“By taking out your heart, the Enemy takes out you, and you are essential to the Story.”

– John Eldredge, Waking the Dead

Does 100 mph with your hair on fire seem slow? Like when you’re used to flaming down the road at 120?

I hit the brakes the other day, stepping down from one of those 120 mph, hair-on-fire, all-consuming, calendar-cramming, adrenaline-rushing responsibilities. Among other things, I suddenly realized my favorite season, autumn, skidded onto and off the calendar while I wasn’t looking. Buried in meetings, agendas, conference calls, planning, coordinating, meetings, schedules, and more meetings, I missed it. And I don’t want to miss it again.

Looking back, I’d gotten so used to careening around at warp speed, I couldn’t remember what a fire extinguisher looks like, let alone how to use one. I didn’t realize how fried I really was until I exited the kitchen. Throttled down. Left the race track. Traded Mario Andretti for Giacomo Puccini. Like:

Swiss Cheese in Death Valley

Since then I’ve learned the value of saying “No.” Of not hitting the after-burners. Not immediately diving into more up-to-my-eyeballs responsibilities. To be deliberate about rehydrating my heart, which was starting to resemble unrefrigerated Swiss cheese in Death Valley. In August.

Short Answer and Chances

Why take time to brake, switch gears, power down? Short answer: Because I’m more productive and effective when I’m running on a full tank instead of fumes. I’m better able to serve others when I’m not burnt out myself.

Are you?

If you’re a writer, chances are good you’re also a reader. Tell me now, isn’t there something soothing and settling about immersing yourself in a good book? Something delicious and delightful about being lost in a good story?  (Okay. It may not be quite as good as getting lost in an Olympic-sized swimming pool of Hershey’s with almonds, but you get the idea.)

The Picture

Know what?  Drinking in the wonder and richness of the written word on a regular basis again, my Sahara-dried out heart is gaining new strength. Becoming more supple. Fresh. Joyous. Elastic.

Sun sets seem more vibrant. Cinnamon spice more fragrant. Quilts are downier.  Music more moving.  Even brussel sprouts taste better. Friends say they see signs of actual brain activity. The fam says…. well. Never mind what the fam says.

Anyway, I didn’t realize how much I missed reading, writing, and all things bookish until they came back, long-lost loves welcoming me home

Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn’t ask for anything in return; they never went away, never, never, not even when you treated them badly.”

– Cornelia Funke, Inkheart

Has the Creative Well Run Dry?

So writer, let me ask: Are you burnt out to a crackly crisp? Running around at 120 mph with your hair on fire? Thinking it all depends on you?  Has the creative well run dry?

A suggestion: slow down. (The world won’t stop revolving. Trust me on this one.)  Trade Andretti for Puccini.  Or whatever resonates beauty, joy, gratitude and grace to your soul. For me, it’s books, reading, writing, and soaring arias.  For others it might be walks on the beach. Starlight.  Bubble baths. Playing catch with the kids. Calling up grandma or gramps. Rock-climbing. A fully loaded supreme pizza. Getting a cat. (Nobody’s perfect.)

The point is, take time to care for your heart. And be intentional about it.

This may seem counter-intuitive to some. Even selfish. In truth, it’s one of the best things you can do not only for yourself, but for others. Particularly if you’re a writer. There’s not much inspiration in charcoal.

Now if I could just figure out what to do with this singed hair.

Mount Rainier

Do you know a writer who’s worn out, fried to a crackly crisp? Share this post with them and give them a boost. 

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Catch us next time for Books to Grow By: How Many Have you Read?

Eureka!

I just spent a morning deep-sixing, round-filing and de-cluttering my desk, bulletin board, filing cabinet and blog. I also thinned out my InBox from 3,000+ messages to 329. Yesss!

Uninteresting, irrelevant links that have been hanging around since the 12th of Never? Gone! Pages that no one’s visited since the Ark made landfall? Outta here! Categories, media, polls and pics that are as fresh as last week’s headlines? Goodbye!

Talk about a breath of fresh air.

De-cluttering the Dead Wood

I hadn’t realized just how cluttered my desk, blog and brain really were until I de-cluttered the dead wood.  (I meant to get to this the first week in January.  Now you know why I gave up ‘New Year Resolutions’ for Lent.  And New Year’s.)

Several writers I talk to have truckloads of works in progress at any given moment.  They may have a children’s story, a poetry collection, an inspirational piece and a few news articles all going at the same time.  Maybe more. Others are juggling memoirs, feature stories, a detective/mystery series and cranking out newsletters in their ‘spare time’ – both minutes.

I admire these folks.  The ones that can keep eighty zillion writing projects in the air, like spinning plates, all at the same time without dropping something.  Like themselves.  On their heads.

Not One of Them

Know what?  I’m not one of them.

I found that while my reading and writing interests vary widely – anything from Tennyson, Dickens and Dostoevsky to Richard Paul Evans, Anna Quindlen, Jane Austen and Charles Schulz – I have to narrow my focus and concentrate on a few writing projects at a time or else.

“Or else what?” you ask.

Crashing Plates?

Or else… I don’t complete any of them.  Sure, I may dash out a chapter or two here.  Polish some dialogue there.  Re-work a pesky characterization or rewrite an entire plot.  But when I have more plates spinning than I can realistically focus on, my focus becomes splintered.  Diluted.  Wandering.  I lose concentration and energy.  And plates crash.

I feel better about myself and my writing when I actually finish one thing, publish or submit, rather than working on a bunch of different things, losing steam, jumping into something else and doing the same thing all over again.  That doesn’t mean I don’t put something aside from time to time to let the ‘ole creative batteries re-charge.  I do.  But I still have to discipline myself to return to that set-aside project, hit it fresh, and actually make progress toward publication – rather than endless revisions – as the ultimate goal.

Are you with me?

So, here’s another non-New Year’s Resolution.  I will raise my right hand and repeat after me: Focus. Focus. Focus.  Prioritize.  Instead of puttering around on umpty-jillion different projects at once and never really finishing one, I will work on the most pressing project – the one I’m most passionate about – first.  Then I’ll pursue the rest in descending order according to priority.

In other words, I’m telling myself, “Self, you will complete that Mountain memoir and that summer in Texas story by this time next year even if it means raiding your private Hershey’s stash and keeping it under lock and key until then.”

If that’s not incentive, what is?

Now if I could just remember where I stashed the Priority List.

More on this in my last post, Dead Writing Days and Newton.

What ‘writing projects’ are you working on that are keeping you from focusing on and finishing your most passionate pursuit?  Do you have a writing friend who needs help differentiating between  productive creative pursuits and frittering their time away on fluff?  Share this post so they can clear out their dead wood, too.

Have you snagged your FREE download of my ebook, Skipping the Tiramisu: Becoming the Writer You Were Born to Be? Yours free when you sign up for my monthly newsletter (also free)!

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Up next: Andretti, Puccini, and 120 MPH With Your Hair on Fire.

What does a “dead day” look like to you?  The days that feel flannel gray “dead” to me are usually those I haven’t done what I was born to do: write.

Sometimes my creative juices flow into an editorial, blog post, short story or feature article.  Sometimes I write the lead column or bang out a newsletter for a couple non-profits.  Or I rewrite, rewrite, rewrite.  I’m working on a couple projects right now, including a children’s fantasy, a memoir and a travelogue.  I have several irons in the fire.

It’s okay to have a bunch of irons in the fire, the ones I’ve prioritized and am making actual progress on.  It’s also okay to enjoy that great review.  To bask in some hard-won recognition and rewards.  Just don’t stay there and set up camp permanently.  Or spend the rest of your writing career looking back over your shoulder.

Do what you were born to do: keep writing.

Look ahead.  Move forward.  Take the next step.  Knock on another door.  Look for another opening or opportunity.  Grab it.  Keep those creative juices flowing rather than flannel-gray.

This may mean stepping outside your comfort zone.  Doing something that’s a bit hair-raising for some artsy-introverted types.  But you’ll never get anywhere as a writer unless you’re willing to grow, reach out, and stretch a bit.

“What?” you say.  “I can’t do that!  I don’t even know where to start.”  That’s okay.  Assess your situation.  Think through some of your writing goals.  You may find it helpful to sit down and jot out a flow chart of where you are today as a writer, where you want to be next year at this time and some possible routes from Point A to Point B.

The best way to miss a target is to have nothing to aim at.

So aim at something specific and take it one step at a time, like:

• Finding a reputable agent to represent your work
• Becoming an indie author/self-publishing
• Attending writer’s conferences, seminars, classes and finding other opportunities to polish your craft.
• Getting a professional graphic artist to design your book cover
• Joining a writer’s group and allowing others to critique your work
• Opening up a Facebook page to showcase your talent
• Enter a writing contest
• Hosting a blog tour
• Writing a review or sharing a link to another writer’s work

Newton Was Right

Newton was right, write?  A body at rest tends to stay at rest, whereas a body in motion tends to stay in motion.  So writer, don’t just sit there.  Move.  Create.  Write.  You can do it!

Writer, where do you want to be this time next year?  How do you plan to get from here to there?  Do you have a writer friend who could use some help along the way? Share this post with them.

Grab a  FREE copy of  my ebook, Skipping the Tiramisu: Becoming the Writer You Were Born to Be, when you subscribe to my monthly-ish newsletter!

I plopped onto the bed, laced up my sneaks and saw my screen saver slide into view.  It shook me till my hair rattled.

This may not sound like much, but you gotta understand that this Mount Rainier screen saver has been sashaying across my screen since shortly after the discovery of fire.  Stunning flower fields, glistening rivers, snow-capped peaks and jaw-dropping alpine vistas skip across my screen whenever I’m away from the keyboard for a few minutes.  Like I said, it’s been up for eons.  And I was really seeing it – connecting, appreciating, taking time to consciously enjoy the slides – for the first time in months.

Then it struck me: How many printed pages have I done the same thing to? Seen or read, but not really “registered”?  How ’bout you?

I read five books in the past two weeks: The Hunger Games series (three) and Notes from a Midnight Driver.  The fifth?  No idea.  I read a fifth, but I couldn’t tell you the title for all the tea in China.  It didn’t register.

How do you as a writer craft your work so your words “register”?  Or is that totally up to the reader? Chime in on the comments section.

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Grab a free copy of my micro ebook, Skipping the Tiramisu: Becoming The Writer You Were Born to Be when you subscribe to my monthly-ish newsletter, Wreal 8.

To thank you for reading and being awesome, both are FREE!

Facebook.  Tweets.  Status updates.  Micro-blogging.

Everyone who’s anyone is all over social media these days.  To hear pundits tell it, social media is the best thing since sliced bread.  And if you’re an author or an inspiring author, “don’t leave home without it.”

Fine.  Now take a closer look.  “Social media” may be media, but is it really “social”?

Really?

“Social” means community.  Relationships.  Connecting, sharing, collecting, mutuality.  Give and take, as opposed to isolation “flying solo.”  Some of that does exist on the more popular social media channels.  You may even share links, retweet and reciprocate.  And you should.  But using social media to “build relationships”?  Really?  I’ve had occasion to rethink this lately.
What kind of “relationship” can you build with a status update?  Do you really get to know a person, what makes them tick, keeps them up late at night, or their favorite dessert in a 140-character tweet?  Oh, and one other thing.  Social media lends itself to full-blown narcissism like ugly on an ape.  Don’t go there.

Choose

Now, there’s nothing wrong with using social media to “get your message out” or “connect.”  But let’s realize it for what it is: a mile wide and a quarter inch deep.  A springboard, not the whole pool.   Let’s not confuse status updates with a genuine conversation.  Choose face-to-face over online whenever we can.

If you’re burying yourself in “social media” rather than having dinner with the fam, playing catch with the kids, or talking to gramps on the phone, you’re giving yourself and your relationships short-shrift.  If checking your email has turned into an addiction, see that for the red light it is.  If you’re more intent on blog stats than connecting with real flesh-and-blood humans, figure out what’s real and realign your priorities.

That old country/western tune got it right.  If you’re looking for real relationships with real people via a keyboard and an electronic box made for one, you’re “looking for love in all the wrong places.”

Go the extra mile

IMHO, writers need to go the extra mile in cultivating “social.”  Writing is a solitary endeavor.  It’s easy to “roll back the sidewalks,” close the door, burrow into your writing world and then fool yourself into thinking you’re “connecting” in any substantive manner through social media alone.

If you’re tweeting and blogging and Facebook-ing, great.  Just don’t stop there.  Get out and meet some new people.  Acquire a new hobby outside your own four walls.  Join a book discussion group.  Invite a neighbor to dinner.  Pick up the phone and connect with that friend you’ve “been meaning to call.”  You’ll not only gain some friends, but you’ll probably harvest a bumper crop of fresh story ideas and inspiration, too!

Don’t wait.  Do it today.

How do you balance “social” with “media”?

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Grab a free copy of my micro ebook, Skipping the Tiramisu: Becoming The Writer You Were Born to Be when you subscribe to my monthly-ish newsletter, Wreal 8.

To thank you for reading and being awesome, both are FREE!

Somehow, somewhere, some unknown number of years ago, Joseph B. Olivieri, Sr. prefaced an unpublished manuscript with:

“This book is being written for my children, grandchildren, nephews and nieces who never knew their grandparents and their uncles.”

I am one of those nieces.  And I really should clean out my filing cabinet more often.

I received the unpublished manuscript for Life with an Italian Father, Mother, and Uncles from my step-mom, who mailed it to me shortly after my father passed away in 2003.  I gave the mss. a quick, cursory skim, stashed it away and promptly forgot about it until just recently.[1] I was looking for something else in my personal “archaeological dig” (aka: The Dreaded Filing Cabinet) when I noticed an oversized manila envelope wedged in the back.  Curious, I hauled it out, blew off the dust, opened it, and found myself instantly transported back some forty years or so to Michigan and the Olivieri home.

You see, Joseph Olivieri, Sr. was my uncle.  He married my Dad’s sister, Charlotte.  Their three kids are my cousins.  I only met Uncle Joe once, during my one and only visit to Michigan in the 1960s.[2] I was very young and don’t remember much.  What I do remember about my Uncle Joe:

1) He was as bald as a billiard ball

2) He wore glasses and seemed as tall as a giant (everyone looks like a giant when you’re six years old)

3) He was always smiling or laughing

4) The smells from the Olivieri kitchen were divine, and

5) there was something about… smoking a cigar.

If only I’d taken better notes!

Fortunately, Uncle Joe did.  What I found in that dusty manila envelope was nearly one hundred single-spaced, type-written pages of his unpublished memoirs.  The editor in me danced a jig.  A word about that is in order.

When working on an edit, I usually warm up the ‘ole red pen or pencil, roll up my sleeves and bleed red ink all over dangling participles, misplaced modifiers, incorrect usage and the like.   It may sound corny, but I just couldn’t do it this time.  The closest I got was adding “That’s Amore!” to the title, because it seemed appropriate and a good fit.  But there was something about holding my uncle’s manuscript that was like holding his hand.  I couldn’t bear to slash any more red ink anywhere.[3] It seemed sacrilegious.  So I refrained.  The editing and keyboarding process are “speeding” along like a gimpy snail on crutches mired in a molasses factory, but it seems the respectful thing to do.  It also means only minor edits and reformatting for publication by yours truly.

My Uncle Joe passed away several years ago.  My Aunt Charlotte continues to reside in Michigan.  Unfortunately, the manuscript is undated.  Although there is no way of pinpointing its date of origin, the paper and type font used suggest it was printed off a 1980s-vintage Macintosh computer.  Whatever the date or age of the manuscript, I’m working on wrapping up my Uncle Joe’s story, in his words.  Que bella!