Com-links Up and Running, Captain!

Some days I wish I could just rip all the phones out of the wall at my house and throw them in the rain! Everyone is working against you, even though they’re not even in the same room, house, or maybe even town. The phone rings at all the most inopportune times, right when I’m getting to the meat of a scene, or the part where the character I’m writing at the moment is telling me something about themselves I didn’t know before.

I try all the tricks. I look at the caller ID, my mind being taken away from the place in my head, the walls of that effervescent space melting away quickly like bath soap, and I am now focused on figuring out what to do. Should I answer? Half the time I don’t recognize who’s calling, and when that’s the case, I end up just letting it ring. And that’s the most painful part of the entire process - letting the phone ring for those 8 or nine agonizing sequences - until finally the answering machine picks up.

Then comes the brilliant part where you can hear the sounds of the person breathing, their chatter to themselves just barely audible over the sound of the recorded answering message. Half the time they don’t even leave a message! When they don’t, I curse them! How dare they try to steal away my peace of mind, bothering me with something that isn’t even important enough to leave a twenty second message?

It's infuriating!

It isn’t, however, something that a strong cup of coffee can’t fix.

For some reason, the taste of the coffee clears my mind, cleanses my palette so to speak, and allows me to sit back down at the table and get back into the thick of it.

 So, if you suffer from a phone phobia/annoyance like me, try the coffee. At the least it will give you a boost of energy that hopefully gives you the strength and determination to continue writing whatever you were before the ringing began.

Skipping Ahead

I ran into a dilemma the other day.

I found myself at Bullmoose, the answer to Borders Books and Music, and was browsing through the many different sections of hardcovers and used items when I stumbled across a wall devoted to George R.R. Martin. Anyone who has had the chance to hear me gush knows that I am a huge fan of HBO's adaptation, Game of Thrones, and I wait eagerly to enjoy - or not enjoy, depending on what happens to my favorite characters - the latest episodes. When the first season was out on blu ray a few years back, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to stand the long wait once I finished watching the episodes, so I purchased the first book in the series and read alongside the episodes. It provided a lot more information into the characters histories and their motivations, and I really enjoyed it.

However, when the first season was finished, and the first book was read completely (in record time for me), I hurried out and bought the second book and started reading. But, something was different this time around. The second book introduced a plethora of new characters and I found myself feeling cheated. True, friends had warned me that the second book was difficult to get through - but if I could just finish it, the third book was the best one. The truth was simply that the second book was much more of a slog than I was willing to commit to. So, I waited for the second season to air, and I ignored all the fans and their wailings that the season was leaving out so much information that it was blasphemy.

Fast forward to now, with the third season of the show nearly finished. I once again tried to pick up the second book so that I could get my fill of all things Westeros when the long haul started again in June, but I simply could not finish the second book; and there I was, in Bullmoose, staring at the third book. Against my better judgement, I decided to do what I never do, and that was to skip the rest of the second book and start the third one anyway.

Let me say, I'm glad I did. I could already tell from the first few chapters that the third book is indeed the best written so far. I stumbled across a few characters that had been left out of the show, but there was a handy app from Martin himself that lent me the information and backstory I needed. Am I sad that I skipped half of the second book - even when I know that the climax involves a large battle? Maybe a little. But not enough to trudge through 300 more pages of characters moving across a map! There is not enough time for me to struggle through a sequel that doesn't live up to its promise. Still, I am glad to say that the third book is very good so far. Perhaps I will go back later on and finish book two, when I am very desperate!

Embrace The Blank Page

Here's a writing story for you.

When I was younger, I used to ask for packages of printer paper for Christmas and birthdays. It sounds like an easy gift now, and something that I should have had kicking around my home anyway, but alas - we did not have a computer in my home until 1998, and we certainly didn't have a printer until after that. However, I was fortunate one Christmas to unwrap a Smith Corona electric typewriter, and it still sits in my bedroom to this day. It has never failed me.

I used to take the packages of blank printer paper and draw on them. When I got a little older, I used them to type pages upon pages of prose, personal stories, choose your own adventures, and anything else I could think of. The only thing that stopped me was the occasional power outage from snow or heavy lightning storms. It was easy, or at least it felt easy at the time, to tap into my creativity. I would flip through the stack of paper and imagine the possibilities.

It wasn't until I graduated to notebooks that the fear of writing crept into my psyche. You know what I'm talking about, right? I would flip through the lined pages of the notebook the same as I did the printer paper, but something had changed. I was afraid of writing something that wasn't perfect. I was afraid of having to tear out a page from the notebook and discard it because my words had failed the promise of the blank page. In the back of my mind I blame this emergence of fear on my love of finely bound journals, but in reality, this is a fear that all writers face at one point or another in their lives. (If they haven't ever faced this, I admire them for their fearlessness!)

It took me a long time to get over the fear of writing unabashedly in a bound journal (or notebook) - only last year, in fact. I have been filling paperback Moleskine notebooks since last summer, and whenever a new idea comes to mind, I turn the page and start fresh. It's this blank page, this whole concept of not knowing what is going to flow from your pen, that is the key to unlocking creative potential. You must not let the blank page intimidate you. I often wonder what was so different when I was in high school compared to now that I feel such trepidation when I think about sitting down to write. The only thing I can do to counter this anxiety is to start fresh, embrace the unknown, and keep moving forward. There may be more at stake now than when I was younger, but that must mean that writing is more important now than it ever was.