My mentor in grad school used to say all the time that "only writing is writing." It's very easy to throw yourself into writing-related activities and feel like you are writing because you're feeding part of your creative side. Writing-related activities are necessary and valuable but they should never crowd out real writing. The hard part is finding the balance between activities that stimulate your writing and activities that are a well-intentioned time suck. (I tell myself that this is why I am an irregular blogger--avoiding the time suck).
Coming from a culture of "if you see a job it's yours," I'm constantly fighting this battle. I take on more projects than I could possibly complete and feel the need to make everyone around me happy. It's Relief Society Sister Syndrome :) Dallin H. Oaks' "Good, Better, Best" talk helped a lot, but it's still a daily battle. I honestly want to do it all and periodically realize how ridiculous that sentiment is. Some people (myself included) say they wish they were more naturally "selfish" so this would come easier but I think the adjective we're looking for is "realistic." I wish I was more naturally realistic about my own capacities. I wish my actions were more consistently in line with my priorities.
Another time suck of mine is reading self-help books and when my latest book started quoting other books I've read I realized that there is no time management magic bullet. The basic idea in all of them is to figure out what's important to you and then do it. So....writing is important to me. I'm doing that. Other creative non-writing things will happen as they happen. I've made some big changes in the time I have allotted to the creative non-writing things in my life and if you're wondering why, this is why. Maybe I cut some things that I shouldn't have, but it feels good to at least start doing this. I'm sure I'll get better as time goes on!
Showing posts with label Writing Every Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing Every Day. Show all posts
Monday, August 11, 2014
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Write A LOT of cruddy stuff: a conversation with three playwrights
I happened upon a panel discussion at the Orem library tonight
that featured Eric Samuelsen, Melissa Leilani Larson, and Wendy Gorley. Well, that makes it sound as if I was
wandering the stacks and heard them talking.
In actuality, this morning Eric posted about remembering that he was
doing something tonight and forgetting what it was. When the mystery was solved I realized that I
had nothing going on tonight and could ask my live-in babysitters to get the
kids ready for bed while I ran off to the library. Hooray!
It seemed like just the kick-in-the-pants I needed, playwriting-wise,
and that’s what it ended up being.
It was a pretty intimate little gathering where the
playwrights told fun stories about their experiences writing and producing
plays. Words of wisdom were
offered. Questions were answered. A giant chocolate cake came into play at one
point. And I ended up looking like a
dork, which I learned from the playwrights is something I should embrace.
They made lots of good points, but the one that stuck with
me (because it hit the closest to home) is that you should embrace failure, not
fear looking stupid, and write lots and lots of cruddy stuff (so that you can
have something to revise and revise into something better). In the spirit of that sentiment, when I heard
someone introduced to another person as a poet I took the next possible moment to
introduce myself to him and to pitch my open mic to him. He looked somewhat perplexed, mostly bemused,
and talked with me about BYU (I graduated shortly after he began teaching
there). Then, later, I heard two of the
playwrights talking in amazement about having this amazing BYU poet in
attendance and how in awe they were of him.
Yes, I had pitched my budding performance poetry venue to one of the
preeminent LDS poets, who very well might be the sort of poet who thinks that
slam poetry isn’t actually poetry, who certainly doesn’t have a huge desire to
hear a poem about the importance of tampons or the horrors of too tiny
bikinis. I kind-of wanted to sink into a
crack in the floor.
But then I embraced my dorkiness. Because, you know what? That sentence up there makes a whole lot of
assumptions about a person I actually don’t know at all. Tie-clad BYU professors that students worship
may very well be closet performance poets.
You never know. And part of my mission
with this creative writing open mic is to draw in a segment of the writing
population that isn’t already in the slam poetry scene. That would be this poet for sure. Definitely following up the dorky encounter
with a professional but dorky email.
The other thing that made me feel dorky in a positive way is
the restlessness that this discussion made me feel about one of my major goals
with moving up to Utah County. I had
lost my theater community and I wanted that back. In the past few years I have stoked the fires
of my writing with poetry but haven’t really gotten back on the playwriting
horse. My hope with this move is that I
can establish a new artistic community up here.
I don’t know how that will play out.
I don’t know who will be involved in that long-term. I do know, however, that it takes time to
establish those connections and friendships.
And it takes time to get back on that horse. So maybe it’s a good thing that I won’t have
live-in babysitters for much longer because what I most need right now, as I am
establishing the community part of the dream, is to establish the art part of
the scene. Instead of dashing off to a
fun panel discussion to get a kick in my playwriting pants, I need to spend an
hour at home writing. I need to give
myself my own kick in the pants. Because
I’m a dork and I embrace that. And I’m
going to write a ton of really crappy stuff, including introspective blogs,
saccharine novels, ridiculous poems, and contrived plays. Complete drivel. Look forward to it, Utah County.
Monday, September 23, 2013
The World's Largest Gathering of Chevron Maxi Skirts
Time Out for Women
September 13-14, 2013
Logan, Utah
I hadn't thought to blog about this until one of the Saturday afternoon presenters really spoke to my writerly side. I came at the behest of my sister, who has been a Time Out for Women (TOFW) volunteer in Logan for a number of years. Although I have long loved the work of the presenters (I even follow Hilary Weeks on Facebook and enjoyed her vacation-pictures-with-washing-machine meme immensely), I was a little hesitant about the event. It seemed like the same sort of crowd that was lining up the day before the Twilight Marathon at your local Cineplex. I love my Twi-hard friends but we obviously have very different opinions of what constitutes a fulfilling day.
I'm glad to report that this was a babysitter-worthy event, with no domestic-violence-promoting vampires in sight (though it was a little disturbing to witness the pandemonium when the Hudson Lights cuties came on stage. Ladies--we are not pre-teens at a Beatles concert). The whole thing was a great mix of serious and fun--with general hilarity casting extremely poignant personal and spiritual moments in high relief--and even though it was a little odd to clap after saying "amen," somehow it worked.
My first "ping" as a writer came when Mary Ellen Edmunds talked about praying and asking Heavenly Father for time to think and ponder. I know this isn't unique to my situation but as a single mom it is very difficult to carve out time for thinking, pondering, and writing. The time I do find seems like a miracle. Praying for that miracle was a light bulb for me (I had forgotten that I used to do that!).
Likewise, Jennifer Platt Brinkerhoff's lecture resonated with the writer in me because I do actively try to find the parable in life experiences in my poetry and creative nonfiction pieces. I loved how she would tell stories and then remind us (multiple times) to not get so caught up in the story that we miss the message. That trained us in a small way to step back and see the meaning. It gave the audience several opportunities to feel what it was like to do what she was advocating (thus making it more likely that we would be successful trying this at home). I also loved the idea of asking if our routines reflect what we claim to value. Coupling that with the idea of ritualizing your routine (finding meaning in the small things we do every day) brought home the fact that I need to spend my time doing what I most value: working because I value independence and want to provide for my children, baking because I want us to be healthy, creating art because it delights my soul etc.
As for the rest of the day, I don't think I can do it justice in a short review. From Sandra Turley's heart-wrenching journey to motherhood and soaring soprano voice to Kris Belcher's self-deprecating humor and emotional honesty (my favorite line: the problem with going blind is that all of the hot movie stars have lost their looks), it was a day full of the sorts of things that squeeze your heart. We heard from Brad Wilcox (who never fails to be both funny and insightful), Terryl and Fiona Givens (whose thoughtful discussion challenged common notions of the "Dark Ages"), Hudson Lights (easy on the eyes and easy on the ears with their flawless harmonies and winning smiles), and Sheri Dew (who always manages to be both a person to look up to and a person you could lock arms with. If I ever fly through Africa I'd like her to be my traveling companion!).
All of this was punctuated on Saturday by the music and musings of Hilary Weeks. Her music was the impetus for a couple of really cool moments on Saturday. The first was when she was singing "Dancing in the Rain" and mentioned a polka dot umbrella. Halfway up the auditorium someone opened up their polka dot umbrella and began waving it. This led to umbrella after umbrella opening (it was a rainy week and people were prepared for inclement weather). It was such a lovely expression of the joy bursting through the room. I wish I was the sort of person who is prepared for inclement weather! I opened the umbrella in my heart instead.
The second moment was when she sang "I Will" and invited us to join her on the chorus. The third time we all stood and the entire auditorium sang:
"I will stand.
I will not fall.
In a world that's weak,
I will be strong.
I'll be true.
I will choose His way.
Yeah, I know what's right
And I will not change.
In a world where so many will not,
I will."
I was tempted to pull out my phone and record it, but decided I wanted to experience it without a filter. Because of that you'll have to just take my word for it: that kind of unity is powerful. A huge auditorium of faithful women audibly and directly affirming their desire to stand up for good brought the Spirit flooding in. If the umbrellas were visual joy, this was audible and visual faith. As a writer of faith, this was tremendously strengthening in both a spiritual way and a writerly way.
I love those times when a large group seems to beat with one heart. I remember being in a regional conference in Ohio when the Columbus temple was announced. So many of us who had sacrificed and driven hours to be at the conference were the same ones who had sacrificed and driven hours to go to the Washington DC temple regularly (the closest temple: 6 hours away). It felt like we all had the same reaction in the minute following the announcement--like the entire stadium was one person, bursting with joy. I count myself lucky to have experienced that moment and I count myself lucky to have been in Logan, Utah on a Saturday morning when a group of women with different lives, different tastes, and different backgrounds became one person bursting with faith.
A note to Deseret Book, though: maybe you should start doing some marketing specifically geared to hipsters. Maybe some ironic chevron products like mustard and navy chevron knee socks a la Mary Ellen Edmunds? If you make them I'll wear them next year!
September 13-14, 2013
Logan, Utah
I hadn't thought to blog about this until one of the Saturday afternoon presenters really spoke to my writerly side. I came at the behest of my sister, who has been a Time Out for Women (TOFW) volunteer in Logan for a number of years. Although I have long loved the work of the presenters (I even follow Hilary Weeks on Facebook and enjoyed her vacation-pictures-with-washing-machine meme immensely), I was a little hesitant about the event. It seemed like the same sort of crowd that was lining up the day before the Twilight Marathon at your local Cineplex. I love my Twi-hard friends but we obviously have very different opinions of what constitutes a fulfilling day.
I'm glad to report that this was a babysitter-worthy event, with no domestic-violence-promoting vampires in sight (though it was a little disturbing to witness the pandemonium when the Hudson Lights cuties came on stage. Ladies--we are not pre-teens at a Beatles concert). The whole thing was a great mix of serious and fun--with general hilarity casting extremely poignant personal and spiritual moments in high relief--and even though it was a little odd to clap after saying "amen," somehow it worked.
My first "ping" as a writer came when Mary Ellen Edmunds talked about praying and asking Heavenly Father for time to think and ponder. I know this isn't unique to my situation but as a single mom it is very difficult to carve out time for thinking, pondering, and writing. The time I do find seems like a miracle. Praying for that miracle was a light bulb for me (I had forgotten that I used to do that!).
Likewise, Jennifer Platt Brinkerhoff's lecture resonated with the writer in me because I do actively try to find the parable in life experiences in my poetry and creative nonfiction pieces. I loved how she would tell stories and then remind us (multiple times) to not get so caught up in the story that we miss the message. That trained us in a small way to step back and see the meaning. It gave the audience several opportunities to feel what it was like to do what she was advocating (thus making it more likely that we would be successful trying this at home). I also loved the idea of asking if our routines reflect what we claim to value. Coupling that with the idea of ritualizing your routine (finding meaning in the small things we do every day) brought home the fact that I need to spend my time doing what I most value: working because I value independence and want to provide for my children, baking because I want us to be healthy, creating art because it delights my soul etc.
As for the rest of the day, I don't think I can do it justice in a short review. From Sandra Turley's heart-wrenching journey to motherhood and soaring soprano voice to Kris Belcher's self-deprecating humor and emotional honesty (my favorite line: the problem with going blind is that all of the hot movie stars have lost their looks), it was a day full of the sorts of things that squeeze your heart. We heard from Brad Wilcox (who never fails to be both funny and insightful), Terryl and Fiona Givens (whose thoughtful discussion challenged common notions of the "Dark Ages"), Hudson Lights (easy on the eyes and easy on the ears with their flawless harmonies and winning smiles), and Sheri Dew (who always manages to be both a person to look up to and a person you could lock arms with. If I ever fly through Africa I'd like her to be my traveling companion!).
All of this was punctuated on Saturday by the music and musings of Hilary Weeks. Her music was the impetus for a couple of really cool moments on Saturday. The first was when she was singing "Dancing in the Rain" and mentioned a polka dot umbrella. Halfway up the auditorium someone opened up their polka dot umbrella and began waving it. This led to umbrella after umbrella opening (it was a rainy week and people were prepared for inclement weather). It was such a lovely expression of the joy bursting through the room. I wish I was the sort of person who is prepared for inclement weather! I opened the umbrella in my heart instead.
The second moment was when she sang "I Will" and invited us to join her on the chorus. The third time we all stood and the entire auditorium sang:
"I will stand.
I will not fall.
In a world that's weak,
I will be strong.
I'll be true.
I will choose His way.
Yeah, I know what's right
And I will not change.
In a world where so many will not,
I will."
I was tempted to pull out my phone and record it, but decided I wanted to experience it without a filter. Because of that you'll have to just take my word for it: that kind of unity is powerful. A huge auditorium of faithful women audibly and directly affirming their desire to stand up for good brought the Spirit flooding in. If the umbrellas were visual joy, this was audible and visual faith. As a writer of faith, this was tremendously strengthening in both a spiritual way and a writerly way.
I love those times when a large group seems to beat with one heart. I remember being in a regional conference in Ohio when the Columbus temple was announced. So many of us who had sacrificed and driven hours to be at the conference were the same ones who had sacrificed and driven hours to go to the Washington DC temple regularly (the closest temple: 6 hours away). It felt like we all had the same reaction in the minute following the announcement--like the entire stadium was one person, bursting with joy. I count myself lucky to have experienced that moment and I count myself lucky to have been in Logan, Utah on a Saturday morning when a group of women with different lives, different tastes, and different backgrounds became one person bursting with faith.
A note to Deseret Book, though: maybe you should start doing some marketing specifically geared to hipsters. Maybe some ironic chevron products like mustard and navy chevron knee socks a la Mary Ellen Edmunds? If you make them I'll wear them next year!
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