by Jenna | Sep 9, 2015 | Writing Articles
Ordinarily I recommend writing first and cleaning later. I stand by that today, too. Do your writing, then clean your writing desk.
But today is still a good day to clean your desk.
Here's why.
As Fall takes shape, you're likely to start experiencing that "back to school" energy we all usually start feeling around now. You're probably even be feeling it already.
If you're like me, you're might be right between that lazy summer-just-ended feeling and sensing the forces of Fall coming down the pike. My older boy just started school and I can tell that I'm about to get swept up in the wave of production that usually strikes around now.
But it's not quite here yet, at least not for me -- today might actually be the first time I'm really starting to feel it as opposed to just knowing that it's coming.
Whether you're still in that in-between place, or ready to Get Moving, cleaning your space of the accumulated muck that's built up over the summer is a perfect way to transition into this productive phase and be ready to make the most of it.
For desk cleaning, here are a couple of tricks that work for me when I have limited time:
- Triage the mess and sort it into what-goes-where piles. Hopefully a lot of it will go straight into the recycling bin. One of my favorite tricks from Miriam Ortiz Y Pino is to use a "Belongs Elsewhere" box that I can toss things into that belong elsewhere in the house but have snuck into my space over time (those evil little monsters!).
- Put away what you can right now.
- Put the rest into a stack to sort later.
- Clean the desk surface.
- Behold the magnificence of your clear workspace.
- Get back to the writing. :)
- Over time, develop a system for the what-goes-where issues you discover as you clean and so the mess is less to deal with next time. (Miriam is great at helping with this. One of the best things about my office is that even though it's messy on top right now it's well organized underneath the chaos.)
And while you're cleaning, here's something to contemplate.
It's also a really good time to think about what you want to accomplish between now and the "end" of the year.
And let's be realistic about that for a moment, shall we?
It's not really December 31st for most of us that marks the end of the year. Realistically, it's more like late November or early to mid December somethingth. Because Thanksgiving rolls around, the kids are out of school for a couple of days, then suddenly you're in holiday mode. And sure, you'll still get stuff done, but let's face it, you'll also have one foot in holiday parties and shopping and the like.
(Unless maybe you're a true writer-hermit type, in which case you'll probably benefit from everyone else being so busy since you'll have all kinds of quiet time to yourself. :) )
So really, it's a great time to not only kick it into high gear with this back to school vibe, but it's also smart to think about what you're hoping to accomplish before 2015 rolls out like the tide.
You've got about three and a half months, give or take, before the holidays really start taking over the collective.
What are you aiming to accomplish before then?
While you're cleaning your desk, you call mull that one over and think about where you'd like to be at the "end" of the year.
And you'll have a nice, clear space to get to work in, too. :)
by Jenna | Aug 5, 2015 | Writing Articles
I seem to have a business mindset at the forefront right now (see my post from last week about criteria for bestowing grants), which isn't surprising when you consider that we're going through a marketing phase in my screenwriting master class at ScreenwritingU right now.
Sonya commented on last week's post saying, "[this] is very close to the same list of things investors want to see when considering an investment in a business; a book and author are no different for a grantor (or publisher, for that matter)! They are an investment, and a risk, to manage."
It fits right in with this idea that's been swirling around in my brain: What if we treated writing like a business?
When I was in my early 20's applying for jobs, my father taught me to look at myself as a asset that I was bringing to the job interview. As if I was the CEO of my own small company, and it was up to me to make smart business decisions based on my skills, talents, and abilities, and to communicate about them objectively to my prospective employers. He also taught me to consider whether or not that employer was a good fit for me, not just whether or not I was a good fit for them.
In other words, it had to be a good match for everyone.
It occurred to me that it might be interesting to think about our writing endeavors as their own kind of enterprise. After all, at the end of the day, many of really are writer-entrepreneurs, even those of us that get traditional publishing deals.
I'm sure there are artists out there right now rolling their eyes, talking about art for art's sake and all that.
But I don't really mean this in a grasping, heavy-handed business-y / gross marketing kind of way. (Though I do believe in grounded, sustainable marketing as a valuable thing -- I do not subscribe to the belief that all marketing is evil and wrong.)
What I mean is this:
- What if we look at every writing project we take on as an investment, with pros and cons and viability to consider ALONG WITH our level of passion and artistic interest and commitment in it?
- What if we make real, practical choices about developing our skills in order to do our best work, by evaluating our writing skills not with a fixed mindset, but with a growth mindset, and pursue training and mentoring accordingly?
- What if we treat our writing like a professional commitment and show up every day to do the work?
- What if we set specific goals for our writing projects and careers and check in on them monthly, quarterly, and yearly to see how we were doing?
- What if we think about a project from start to finish, including how we will take it to market?
- What if we wrote because we said we would, and didn't wait until we "felt like it"?
Again, I don't say any of this to suggest "selling out" or becoming overly commercial.
To me it's more about the mindset of being a professional and taking our work seriously.
And, as I write this, I also know that I love exploring the side of writing that puts the focus on the joy and passion of it.
I believe there is a lovely hybrid of business and pleasure that feels like a sweet spot for each one of us. That's what I mean when I use the word "calling". More about that to come in a future post.
by Jenna | Jun 18, 2015 | Writing Articles
I get kind of pissed off when people say there’s no such thing as writer’s block.
People say “you don’t ever hear of plumber’s block, do you?”
And, “Writers write. If you’re a writer, write.”
Which, yeah.
I agree with that.
Writers write.
But not when they feel stuck.
But if you think about it carefully, doesn’t writers block really mean “feeling unable to write”?
And isn’t it a bit ridiculous to tell someone there is no such thing as the feeling they are feeling?
I think it is.
One of my coaches, Jessica Michaelson, says there are no rules governing our inner emotional sanctuaries.
We get to feel how we feel. We may chose to take action that is different than how we feel – like not throwing the baby out the window when he wont stop screaming ;) or choosing to write when we are not in the mood (which is not the same thing as feeling blocked by the way) – but we may still feel angry and at wit’s end, or grouchy and out of sorts, and that’s perfectly okay.
In fact, I’m not at all sure how it helps someone who feels blocked to invalidate how they are feeling.
I will say, however, that what worries me is how writers usually chose to deal with writer’s block, and what they make it mean in their heads.
Lots of writers who feel blocked just stop writing and flat out hide. Or go around complaining that they are blocked as if they have no ability to make any kind of change their own lives.
I get equally pissed off by people who don’t choose to take action to help themselves, even if it’s a matter of reaching out for help to someone like me or any of the other wonderful writing coaches and mentors out there in the world.
But there’s a reason why we don’t.
It’s shame.
Shame is what makes us hide and stop reporting our results or asking for help.
Shame makes us say “I should be writing.”
And, “But I can’t.”
And that’s the part of me that doesn’t get pissed off but instead wants to come sweeping over to your house and give you a big giant hug and tell you it’s all going to be okay. And then make you a cup of tea and talk, really talk, about what is going on inside that head of yours and help you make a real plan for how you will start to shift and change it, with me holding your hand every step of the way.
Writing is a lonely business.
Feeling blocked is even more so.
It’s not fair to compare it to a chronic illness or depression, but in some ways it’s just as soul crippling.
And as someone who is in the business of helping people honor their soul’s calling, it’s one of the challenges I most love helping you overcome.
by Jenna | May 8, 2015 | Writing Articles
Every project I work on – especially when it's a long-form piece – has begun to feel like an investment: In myself, in my writing, in my future.
Each one starts out seeming so simple. Just an idea. But it builds over time into a complex story. With questions and puzzles and logic challenges and logic flaws and doubts. All of which have to be solved.
And it takes time to crack those puzzles.
Even though I've been able to move from concept to outline to draft much more quickly now than I have in the past, it's more than just a matter of pace and production. It's also about depth and attention -- preoccupation even -- for a period of my life. It's about making a commitment to a story that occupies my time, my thoughts, my subconscious, my dreams. It occupies ME.
When I hear the stories of how many drafts it took to write The Sixth Sense and how many before he “got” the big idea, I appreciate even more what an investment a story is. Learning to tell it well. To refine it, hone it, pare away the unnecessary bits. All the rewriting. It’s no small thing.
And yet we dive into these stories with such hope and abandon. "This one will be different," we tell ourselves. "It'll practically write itself! I'll be done before I know it."
The grass is always greener
Just tonight I happened upon a journal entry from last year, where I was lamenting about how ready I was to write something new as I was slogging through a major rewrite. And since then, I have. And now I’m feeling about the new project the way I was feeling about the thing I was rewriting at the time. Or possibly worse. :)
Isn’t that funny, how the grass is always greener on the next project?
I think that must be part of the drive behind “bright shiny object syndrome” and the resultant project hopping we writers can get into. Those other projects look so much more appealing than our current moldy one, all banged up and warty and flawed.
No wonder we leave trails of unfinished projects behind us like breadcrumbs leading to a trove of forgotten dreams.
I think there may also be a hesitation to fully commit to a second or third or next project because we know what a major big deal it is having been through earlier projects. I can see why "second novel syndrome" may be more than an issue of simply exceeding the quality of one's prior work! It's also about psyching ourselves up for the next step in our writer's journey.
Difficult but worth doing
Because really, it's why we're here, right? To write?
So whether we're starting our first project or our tenth, or rewriting yet another draft, it's about facing the work. Finding the courage to do it. Stewing in the crummy, awkward, and sh*tty rough draft writing we’ve created or wrestling with the new story choices and puzzles, while we twist uncomfortably, grasping at straws, wondering how on earth to solve or fix it. It’s painful!! Who would want to subject herself to that?
No wonder we jump to other things.
But when I think of each project as an investment, it changes the picture for me.
It becomes worth it to put in the time.
It changes from the wretched torture of rewriting a terrible rough draft or struggling to pull the pieces together to something difficult but worth doing.
What about you?
by Jenna | May 1, 2015 | Writing Articles
Pre-baby #2 last May, I was blogging on a weekly basis. I had a precision system in place. Every week during one of the 60-minute writing sprints we run for my community, I would knock out about 1000 words in 40 minutes, edit, proof, and polish it in the remaining 20, then grab an image and publish the whole shebang within maybe another 10 minutes or so. Then a few final tweaks to the copy in my mailing system and I was all set with my weekly post and newsletter (I have my blog set up to be pulled straight in to Aweber once it’s published on my site, then I broadcast it to my mailing list).
I had a SYSTEM. (And if you know me very well, you know how much I love a good system!)
It was fun, easy, and I was in a good rhythm with it for quite a few years.
Then cue baby, stage right
But once baby #2 came, I knew all bets would be off. And they were.
In those early post-partum days, I was wandering around in a deep haze of physical exhaustion from the birth, breastfeeding and skin-to-skin induced oxytocin highs, and massive sleep deprivation and fragmentation – I was sleeping around the clock with the baby. In other words, all was as it should be. :)
But in the midst of it all, I still had (and have) a business to run. Since I knew it was going to be tough, I had planned to run a series of guest posts over the summer to keep the flow of content going. It was a great plan, and I had I realized what it would take I would have made it a higher priority to set up all the posts BEFORE the baby was born.
(Who am I kidding? The last 6 months of this pregnancy were tough and it was a minor miracle I did such a thorough job of prepping my team to keep things running in my absence! Still, in an ideal world, perhaps…)
In any case, it turns out that guest blog post editing and publishing takes me just as long if not longer than writing my own posts. Live and learn. Still, it was delightful to have a hiatus from being the solo content generator and it kept me in touch with writing and all of you. So once the baby shifted out of the long luxurious naps of The Early Days and into those short 40-minute jobs where there was no point in me trying to sleep anyway, I would get to work on guest posts and screenwriting assignments (and writing the occasional post myself, I think.)
But then the guest post series dried up and I found myself struggling to write the way I had before. Each post took me three times as long as it had in the past. I don’t know if it was the oxytocin/milk brain thing or the chronically tired mom thing or both, but blogging stopped coming so easily.
Then factor in the screenwriting I’m trying to keep up with for my master certificate program and blogging really started slipping through the cracks.
And something just wasn't feeling right
In the bigger picture somewhere along the way I also stopped feeling satisfied with the WAY I was blogging. I wanted to SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT or at least say it differently, but I wasn’t sure how or even what I exactly wanted to change.
Which led me to some soul searching.
Did I still want to blog?
Was there a different way I could see out there that I might want to try?
What struck me, eventually, was wanting to have more of a mix of posts. Some personal stories interspersed with the writing habit insights. Maybe even an opinion piece or two. Some longer pieces. And even a few occasional guest posts. Once that clarity emerged things got better. But it still wasn't happening.
Creativity required
So my desire was clearer but my action plan was lacking.
One of the things about being an entrepreneur with a baby at home is that you have to be flexible, creative, and resourceful at all times.
Now he's older and is sleeping for longer naps again I have two small windows of time to work in each day, assuming all goes according to plan and there are no random dogs barking during nap time! (Ahem.) (His name is Colton, by the way, and he’s a cute as a kitten playing with a dust bunny.)
So that means I have approximately two to three baby-free hours each day to apportion between screenwriting, blogging, and keeping my writing community in motion. Not a lot of time. Sure. I could hire a babysitter and I do have some temporary help right now, but I WANT to be with my son while he is little like this.
Which is exactly the point. As a writer, and a mom, I have to be super creative about when, where, and how I write. I also have to make sure I get enough down time and sleep or I cross the line into crazy mama land pretty quickly. And since the old pattern wasn't working, I had to come up with a new one.
Finding new times to write
My new favorite time of day to blog is that small window of time before I go to sleep and after the kids are in bed. I’ve learned that I can write in Markdown text on my iPhone in an app with a nice dark mode (Byword) while snuggled in bed. It’s the perfect time to empty my brain of the blog posts I’ve been mentally composing all day (turns out that part of my issue lately has been having too much to say – it gets overwhelming and gums up the works without an outlet for expression).
The key is just making sure I get into bed early enough to write without messing up my sleep. On the other hand, sometimes sleep is hard to come by and having the flexibility to read or write in the middle of the night can be a mental relief rather than lying in the dark working out sentences and trying to keep them in my head until I have time to write them down. Plus it leaves my daytime work slots free for screenwriting and running my business.
Then in the morning I can sync up my files with Scrivener or export them straight into my blog in perfectly formatted HTML.
And it led to finding a new voice and new creative expression
Somehow having a new system has unleashed my creativity again. (See? What did I tell you about me and systems?) I just needed a system that worked with my current lifestyle.
It’s such a good reminder that when your writing pattern stops working, it’s time to redesign your writing life to match.
And the most fascinating outcome for me has been a shift in my writing voice that feels even more like me.
I love it. :)
by Jenna | Apr 22, 2015 | Writing Articles
I'm learning to write faster. With blogging I’m already fairly quick, though my recent writing voice recalibration has slowed me down a bit (more on this in a future installment).
But in terms of screenwriting, I’m learning to be faster and looser, to let go a little more, and to refrain from perfecting until the polish draft.
And being a fast writer is a boon in the screenwriting industry, it seems. I have a few sought-after writer friends who are known, in part, for their speed.
So it’s a good thing, right? To be fast?
Pressure's on
When we write quickly, there's another kind of fast that's implied as well.
It’s the idea that we should be cranking out multiple scripts each year (or books, for my novelist friends). That if we’re not, we’re slackers. (I read recently that screenwriting agents don’t even want to talk to you if you aren’t writing at least three new spec scripts a year, in addition to any paid writing assignments you might be working on. I also have novelist friends putting out multiple books per year.)
It starts to feel as though the counting police are breathing down your neck to see if you’ve done enough. Today, this week, this year. Enough words, stories, scripts, books, etc.
More power to the writers who want to and can write that much, but what about the rest of us with little kids and/or who are old enough to know that pulling all nighters, racing to meet deadlines, killing ourselves with 50, 60, or 70 hour workweeks is ridiculous, short-sighted, and terrible for our health and relationships? Or even just want to make sure we're actually enjoying LIVING along with writing?
Sure. We might want to write a lot. To be prolific. But we have to be mindful about what works for our LIVES as well as our careers. And our lives are individual, with specific realities, so there’s no point in comparing ourselves to others. After all, when comparing, someone always loses. That’s not a fun place to live from. (I honestly doubt that was the plan, when our souls said “YES!” to writing.)
Thoughts about quantity versus quality
I’m of two minds about this quantity thing, of course.
(That’s how you know it’s me!)
On the one hand, writing more stories means more practice, which means more experience and more knowledge under one’s belt as a writer, which also means greater facility with writing as a whole. That seems like a good thing to me. I learn more and deepen my skills with every project I tackle, to be sure. And as my natural pace picks up with greater experience (and my kids get older), I'm sure it will become even easier to write more, more quickly.
It also seems to be the standard recommendation these days — to write as much as possible — and indeed, my personal goal has been to build a library of scripts I can take to market all at once. I’m just choosing not to kill myself over it, especially with little kids whose childhoods I don't want to miss.
On the other side of the coin, taking your time to write one truly solid story may be the ticket to unlocking your storytelling gifts. It’s what I like about what Corey Mandell recommends: getting one script “pitch perfect authentic” so you deeply understand what you’re doing and why so you can carry that forward into your future projects. The argument goes that there’s no point in moving on to project after project if you’re just going to keep making the same mistakes. This is why I chose to spend the last couple of years refining my first script rather than moving on to new projects (though I have now just completed a rough draft of a new project and have taken on a writing assignment).
The real questions to ask
No matter what other people recommend, say, do, or think about how much we “should” be writing, we have to be true to ourselves and set the goals we actually want to achieve, not the goals we are told we "should" strive for.
The real way to measure our pace is by setting goals that work for us, are attainable, and are in resonance with the lives we want to have. Then we can see how well our pace and goals are matching up.
So the real questions to ask are: Are you writing fast enough for YOU? Are you meeting the goals you are setting for yourself, from your heart? Are you writing at a pace that feels sustainable and healthy? One that’s good for you, the project, and the planet?
The real answers lie there.
