Friday, August 21, 2009

So many books, so little time

Fiction writing has been on hold for the last week.

I received interest from a few literary agencies in a nonfiction book I'm writing. I sent out queries to a dozen agents and received requests for full proposals from three of them. Very exciting.

The book is a memoir of my experiences as owner and cheesemaker of Bingham Hill Cheese Company. The company rapidly rose to national prominence and just as quickly crashed and burned.

I spent the last week writing the proposal and will send it out Monday or Tuesday. At that point, I can resume work on my novel.

While the development interrupted my work flow, the process of writing the proposal was valuable and instructive. Working on two projects at once has helped me become a more disciplined and productive (albeit schizophrenic) writer.

Wish me luck.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Writer's Block

The inspiring view from the Poudre River Trail

I'm having a terrible time getting back into my story today. I seem to have hit a wall of sorts, which comes as a surprise, considering how well things went last week.

I blame it all on John Steinbeck. I've been reading his book, "Journal of a Novel," which is a compilation of letters he wrote to his editor during the writing of "East of Eden." The book offers glimpses into Steinbeck's state of mind as he worked through his manuscript.

What I've learned is that in writing a book, there will be periods of progress followed by periods of stagnation. When his productivity slowed, Steinbeck was no different from me. He procrastinated. He doubted himself. His optimism waxed and waned, and he alternated between seeing the importance of his work and being frightened that he'd produced a valueless pile of.... um...paper.

Here are a few excerpts:

July 6, 1951

...I feel just worthless today. I have to drive myself. I have used every physical excuse not to work except fake illness. I have dawdled, gone to the toilet numerous times, had many glasses of water. Really childish. I know that one of the reasons is that I dread the next scene, dread it like hell...

October 22, 1951

So, we go into the last week and I may say I am very much frightened. I guess it would be hard to be otherwise - all of these months and years aimed in one direction and suddenly it is over and it seems that the thunder has produced a mouse.

Last week there was complete exhaustion and very near collapse. I guess to anyone who has not worked in this way it would be hard to conceive this kind of slow accumulated weariness. I don't know of any other work that requires month after month of emotional as well as intellectual concentration...

October 27, 1951

...Yesterday's work was no good. I had to throw it out. I made a bad mistake in saying when I would be finished and now I find myself trying to make it when I said I would. I'll have to stop that - stop it cold. This book is more important than the finish...


The way I see it, Steinbeck condones today's lack of productivity as an inevitable step in the writing process. I feel so liberated. So literary. But right now, I'd rather feel like a published novelist, which would require breaking through this block and putting down some paragraphs.


Usually when I'm stuck, I take a brisk walk along the river and get my thoughts in order. I use the break for multiple purposes, as this is also my opportunity to exercise and listen to music. I recently expanded my exercise regimen by picking up a pair of river rocks and using them as makeshift hand weights. Regulars on the trail must see me as half mad, shirt off and headphones clamped over my ears, swinging stones over my head and curling them back and forth as I power walk down the trail.
me and my stones
Sometimes I use the stones as potato-shaped drumsticks and play along with the music in my headphones. I get a lot of smiles when I do this. But this way, I'm sure to be in shape should Dave Matthews finally grow weary of Carter Beauford's playing and ring me up.

The rocks fit me so well that I've claimed them as my own. I keep them stashed behind a bush and retrieve them at the beginning of each walk.

But I've finished my walk now, and I'm back at my desk procrastinating by writing this blog entry.

That's it. No more posting. Time to work.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

"Hard" writing versus "soft" writing

Window to another world
900-year-old cliff dwelling at Mesa Verde

I'm back from family vacation, and as predicted, I returned with a clear head and renewed creative energy.

Unfortunately, finding time to write during our trip was all but impossible. Days were spent driving to destinations, setting up and taking down campsites, cooking, cleaning, soaking up the natural world, and getting back in touch with my family.

I suppose I shouldn't be disappointed in my output during the trip. It was a vacation, after all. The break was regenerative both for my family and for me, so it served its purpose well.

Through our travels, I rediscovered the beauty and diversity of the Colorado landscape. From the remote solitude of the Flat Tops Wilderness to the jagged 14,000-foot peaks along the San Juan Skyway, from the shops wedged against the cliffs of Telluride to the 700-foot dunes in the Great Sand Dunes National Park, I was amazed (again) at what lies in my backyard. We visited half a dozen places I would feel comfortable calling home some day.

But it was Mesa Verde that left the most lasting impression. I visited the park as a nine year old and wanted to return primarily for the benefit of my children. It was a surprise that I was the one who couldn't stop blathering about how incredibly cool the park and its ruins are.

More than once, I pictured myself in the yucca sandals of the Anasazi Indians. I scaled the canyon cliffs and subsisted on venison and pinon nuts. I experienced the dangers of a life with predators and disease and perpetual drought. I lived a life of practical beauty through the artifacts left behind: arrows, sleeping mats, impressive masonry and pottery - all preserved in the dry mountain air and the cliff dwellings themselves.

Corny? Probably. But the place affected me. Perhaps as a kid I hadn't yet developed the imagination necessary to fully appreciate a place so rich in history.

The photos and the memories and the time with family are treasures that will last.

As for the writing? I don't feel that the lack of words typed equates to a lack of progress. I found that my downtime was just as valuable as sitting in the chair.

Writers talk of "hard" and "soft" writing time. Hard writing time consists of sitting at a desk and banging out words. But writing a novel requires time away from the computer as well. It is during those "soft" times - those quiet moments of reflection - that breakthroughs are often made.

Some of my better ideas have come when away from my desk. I might be walking along the river, doing yard work, or staring into a campfire. It is during these moments that unlikely connections are drawn, plot ideas come together and characters take shape. It's all part of the process.

I returned to writing Monday with a voice I didn't know I had. I pulled adverbs and adjectives from my draft and stripped sentences bare. The remaining skeleton told a story that was previously buried in excess verbage. The few descriptions I left cut through the clutter and stood tall. And the words flowed. I re-wrote Chapter 1 and tied it into Chapters 2 and 3. I outlined future scenes and made a plan for going forward.

On Thursday I submitted a draft of Chpater 1 to my online writing classmates. I've only received a few comments so far, and the criticism is on the mark. I need to be clearer when I'm entering flashbacks and I need to expand some of my background concerning characters' relationships. When living a story night and day, it is easy to forget that readers are not privy to what is in my head. As a result, I was lean on details in a few places.

But there were comments from readers that encouraged me as well. My imagery seems to be effective. I have painted a believable picture of the mental state of my principal character. Descriptions of scene are working. I find all of this very helpful, since I have not previously shown my writing to anyone.

In summary: from a writing perspective, my vacation was a success. I made progress on my novel without having to type a word. Now it's time translate that progress into sentences. I intend to submit Chapters 2 and 3 to my class in two weeks, so I have plenty of incentive to get on with things.

Write on.