Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Just Do It
and years that answer.”
-Zora Neale Hurston
It’s early December, which means it’s time for me to write the annual holiday letter—because in my family, the task always falls to me.
I arise from bed with determination. After transferring a load of laundry from the washing machine to the dryer, I eat some oatmeal, make coffee and with a steaming cup in hand, I climb the stairs to my office, walking right past the unread newspaper. I open the lid of my laptop with ceremony and push the power button with a flourish. Settling into my chair, I sip coffee as I watch the screen come to life. I open a new Word file and name it “Holiday Letter.2008.” So far, so good.
But instead of staring at the screen, I stare out the window above my desk, looking for inspiration. Then I remember how much more inspired and focused I am after a brisk walk or run. And besides, the sun’s out this morning. I need to catch some Vitamin D before the clouds move in. I lace up my running shoes, put the leash on the dog and we hit the open road.
When I return an hour later, I’m greeted by the buzzzzz of the dryer alarm, reminding me I need to fold the clothes before they wrinkle. As I head upstairs, folded clothes in hand, I notice the dog hair that’s collected in the corners of the stairs. No choice but to vacuum. And while I’m at it, I realize it would be silly to only vacuum the stairs. So I vacuum the whole house.
Then I remember today’s priority. I march back upstairs and as I plop down in front of the computer, I catch a whiff of myself. Phew! After all that walking and vacuuming, I have no alternative but to shower.
Refreshed, I return to my desk and decide I should reread holiday letters from past years. I’m so flooded with nostalgia that I barely hear the sound of Steely Dan on my cell phone, my daughter’s ring tone. Can’t ignore her call—we haven’t talked in over a week. Forty-five minutes later, I’m back at my computer.
But before my fingers hit the keyboard, I make the mistake of looking up at the clock. It’s time for lunch. I march back downstairs and slap together a peanut butter sandwich. While I eat, I glance at the newspaper splayed out on the kitchen table. I don’t let myself read the conclusion of any story that jumps to another page.
Enough is enough. I march back upstairs, slide my legs under the desk, and with a deep sigh, begin to write. And as I do, I remind myself of the goals I set for myself each year:
1) To remember who my audience is—friends and family—who accept me for who I am. Why would I need to impress them with lengthy descriptions of my trip to Spain, the achievements of my kids and my husband’s work accomplishments? (The trip immersed me in a new culture; the kids have found their niches and are happy and healthy; and Jim still finds his job stimulating.)
2) To write in first-person. Although I’ll mention something about every member of my family, the viewpoint of the letter is mine. I remind myself how irritating I find letters in which the writer—for example, Kathy—writes about herself in third-person.
3) To use my own speaking voice. I want to sound like I’m talking to friends and family around the kitchen table.
4) To find the blessings in the last year. And the humor—always, the humor.
5) To not be afraid to tell the truth. Maybe, as Zora Neale Hurston reminds me, the last year has been one with more questions than answers. No need for gory details. Just enough honesty, grace and reflection for my friends and family to know that next year, I’ll probably have more answers.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Don't Forget the Road Map
Next month, I'll offer some tips on writing a holiday letter, but this month, it's time to get organized. Before tackling any writing project, take the time to plot your course: Make a road map.
Any kind of road map will do. Experiment with several organizational techniques until you find one that suits you. Though the formal outline has its firm believers, I find it tedious and confining--and I trace it back to good ol' Mrs. Steinman.
She was actually young and stylish--so unlike the stereotype of the old, stodgy English teacher--but she hammered away for months, it seemed, on how to write a formal outline. Invariably, I'd spend more time obsessing about the "correct" way to outline than on the actual writing assignment. So I took an alternate route. When I was required to hand in an outline with my final draft, I'd write the essay first--using my own technique--and then I'd outline my completed essay.
But if formal outlining works for you as a prewriting tool, by all means, use it! Writers who swear by the process claim that a project will virtually "write itself" if you've invested enough time in an outline. Knowing how all the parts fit together before you start writing is a distinct advantage, but formal outlining is only one approach among many.
When tackling short pieces--like articles, essays and letters--I rely on one of two techniques. With both approaches, I research and/or think about my topic long before my fingers hit the keyboard. Next, if if I'm using the first strategy, I make a list of the points I want to include. Sometimes I'll put them in a logical order; other times, especially when I know the topic well, I just list the points randomly--so I won't forget them! Using the list as a springboard, I begin my first draft. I call it a "scratch" outline--a working version of Mrs. Steinman's formula.
With the second strategy, I dispense with the list altogether and just plunge in, discovering what I have to say--and the order in which I'll say it--as I write. The very act of writing sets my gears in motion. The result is a loosely structured "free writing," that I carefully organize in the next draft.
If you're a visual learner, try making a tree diagram. Write your main topic (say, "Highlights of 2008") at the top of the page, then divide and subdivide the topic into smaller and smaller parts, branching out on the page like an inverted tree. Then pick the most promising material to write about.
"Mapping (also called "clustering") works in a similar fashion. Write your main idea ("Highlights of 2008") in the middle of the page, then circle it. Next, write down words that relate to the main idea, circle them and draw lines connecting them to the words that triggered them. Once the page is full, look for word clusters; they'll suggest a structure for your first draft.
If only Mrs. Steinman had known that form matters less than function! It's not the technique that matters; it's the act of planning. Starting a writing project without a road map is like driving over Mt. Sexton on a foggy night. Ten minutes of planning this month just might save you an hour of writing next month, when you'll need it the most.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Overcoming Roadblocks
Forgetfulness is one thing. A roadblock--the kind that causes writers to get stuck in their tracks, unable to move forward--is another. (Notice I'm not calling it "writer's block," a convenient, overused term that's sometimes used to justify giving up.) No matter what you call the phenomenon, everyone--whether you're writing the Great American Novel or a job application letter--struggles to find words at some juncture.
We sometimes think that professional writers are blessed with such a wellspring of creativity that writing is effortless. It just ain't so. As my clients have heard me say over and over, regardless of your writing ability, writing is hard work--some of the hardest work you'll ever do. In a George Plimpton interview with Ernest Hemingway in 1958, Hemingway confessed that he had rewritten the last chapter to A Farewell to Arms 39 times before he was satisfied! When Plimpton asked him, "What was it that had you stumped?" Hemingway replied, "getting the words right." If Ernest Hemingway agonized about "getting the words right," is it any wonder that mere mortals struggle?
Another misconception about professional writers is that every time they put their fingers to the keyboard, they're inspired. Trust me, the Muse--a goddess from Greek mythology who inspires the creative process--visits professional writers no more often than the rest of us. And frankly, if we wait around for the Muse to find us, we'll wait forever.
Montana novelist and National Book Award finalist, Sandra Scofield, formerly of Ashland and Jacksonville, has said of the writing process, "Nothing comes fast or easy. Everything is about discovery. You have to think of writing as day labor; you show up." Some days, the words will fly off your fingers, other days, you'll struggle to string together a few good paragraphs. The only solution is to roll up your sleeves and dig in.
But what if one bad day is followed by another and then another? What if the roadblock is bigger than your will to move through it? What if you just can't conjure up that word on the tip of your tongue no matter how much you rack your brain? That's the time to step back and let go.
Rejuvenate yourself. Go for a walk, meditate, do yoga, soak in the hot tub, call an old friend or watch a movie. Get as far away from the writing process as possible. For me, the breakthrough may not happen the same day, but if I'm patient, the right word, the missing argument or the next plot turn will come when I least expect it, usually as hot water washes over my head in the shower. It's like losing your keys. You can look and look and look and never find them until you give up and walk away; then magically, they jump out at you.
Give yourself enough time and space to gain perspective on your writing and before long, that roadblock will come tumbling down.
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Lost Art of Letter Writing
If you remember life before faxes, computers and cell phones, you also remember the joy of discovering a hand-written letter in your mailbox. Sometimes, I couldn't stop myself from ripping open the envelope and reading its contents on the spot. Other times, I'd set the envelope aside until I found a quiet moment in the day when I could savor the letter, like a piece of dark chocolate after dinner. I would sometimes read a juicy letter over and over until I darn near memorized the words.
I miss those letters. Excluding holiday "form" letters (which have their place, just like e-mails), it's been over a year since I've received a good, old-fashioned letter. And it's not because I don't have out-of-town friends. It's because my friends, like everyone else in this fast-paced, digitized world, don't take the time to write letters. What a loss.
Beyond the joy of sending and receiving letters, there's another pearl: When you write a letter, you have a purpose and a specific audience, so your writing is as clear and focused as it ever gets. Think back to the last letter you wrote to a friend--even if it's been a few decades. Did you struggle to find words? More likely, the process was natural, almost effortless. Although journal writing has been touted as one of the best tools to build writing fluency, I think letter writing trumps it a hundred times over.
I started my first journal as a kid, mainly because my best friend kept one. As a young adult, I started several journals, only to fall off the wagon after a few weeks. I thought I lacked self-discipline until I realized that, for me, filling blank pages with words written to no one in particular feels like a fruitless chore. Far from building writing fluency, I would stare at the blank page, clueless about what to say. In fact, the only time I've come close to writer's block is with journal writing.
But give me the audience of an old friend and suddenly I have purpose, clarity of thought and fluency to spare. A few years ago my best friend told me she'd kept all the letters I've written her in a shoe box--and we go way back. I shudder to think what I might have written 20 years ago, but I'm honored that she valued my words enough to preserve them. It's probably the best writing I've ever done. And I owe it to audience and purpose.
Don't get me wrong. If journal writing works for you, by all means, forge ahead. But if a blank page has ever left you wordless, try letter writing--called epistolary writing--instead. Not only will you find your voice and purpose, but you'll do it with panache. And the best part of all? One of these days, when you least expect it, you'll discover a return letter in your mailbox!
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Write the Way You Speak
After last month's blog I talked with several readers about the use of “tone” in e-mails. Most people have a general understanding of tone, but aren’t sure how to use it effectively in e-mails. “How do I make sure I use the right tone?” someone asked. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who's hit the wrong chord in an e-mail!
How do you accomplish this? Read your e-mail aloud several times. Do you hear yourself? Are your words common to your speaking-vocabulary? Do your words convey the message you really intend to say? Are there words and phrases that could be misinterpreted? Don't let the convenience of e-mail stop you from revising before you hit “send.”
Thursday, July 17, 2008
E-mail as a Genre
I want to thank everyone who visited my blog site last month and left comments. This month, I’d like to answer an excellent question—about e-mails.
So if we’re all writing e-mails, what strategies can we use to avoid “sounding like a second grader”? An e-mail may be your first introduction to someone, so make a good impression. Once you’ve hit “send,” there’s no taking it back. And even when you know someone, it’s just as easy to make a good impression as a bad one.
Friday, June 20, 2008
There's a Writer Inside You
This blog is dedicated to the writer in all of us. Whether you’re a published novelist, an aspiring magazine writer, a worker drowning in a sea of e-mails or the designated family member who writes the annual holiday letter, writing is an undertaking we can’t avoid.