Friday, September 9, 2022

Helpful Hint for Writers from Sir Isaac Newton; or The Magic of Momentum

As I was working fitfully on my current middle-grade-novel-in-progress during the first part of the summer, I experienced a curious lack of energy, even though I was excited by the idea in theory. But in practice, I just couldn't get into that blissful state of flow where one word follows another onto the page, and one page follows another into a growing stack of chapters. 

Why was this?

Was it because the idea in fact did NOT excite me that much? Was this a signal to me from the Muses to search for another idea that might prove more compelling?

Or was it because I was in fact only sitting down to work on the book for an hour or two every week or two?

I decided to try out the theory that the answer was: the latter. I vowed to MAKE myself sit down to my clipboard, pad, and pen for an hour every single day, and guess what happened when I did?

Yes, I fell in love with the book, and I now have 13 chapters done, and I look forward every day to another hour of being in the company of these characters and watching their story unfold. It turns out that writing really does go better when you actually do it! Who knew??!

Well, Sir Isaac Newton knew. 

Newton's very first law of motion is the law of inertia, that an object at rest tends to remain at rest and an object in motion tends to remain in motion, unless some external force acts upon them. I had been an object at rest. Of course, I tended to remain at rest! I might have remained at rest for the rest of my life and never written anything ever again. But once I decided to make my new resolution serve as the external force to act upon myself - glory be! - I became an object in motion and I've been in motion ever since.

Take today, for example. Our recent heat wave has broken, and it's downright chilly here at Rainbow's End, with a high in the mid-50s and gray misty skies: perfect writing weather. So I got cozy in the sunroom on this day without sun, with Gaia-the-dog standing guard to make sure I didn't waver in my resolve, and I prepared to write.

I had been balking on Chapter 14 because I had no idea what should happen in it  - a good reason to balk! Plus, I had the uncomfortable sense that the pacing of the book was beginning to lag, flag, and drag, not to mention sag. There is a reason why "the sagging middle" is a thing that all writers dread. But, as they say, "the only way out is through." The only way to figure out what needed to happen next was to sit there, pen in hand, and scribble little notes to myself. What ELSE could be going on in my character Zeke's life that might come into play at this point? I brainstormed. I got discouraged. I brainstormed some more. I was still stuck.

Then I realized that what I needed to do was make a calendar for the book of all that had happened so far. To do this is, of course, to realize that one has created weeks with six or seven school days in a row, and a story that begins in mid-February but really needs to begin in late March, etc. etc. That in itself was a highly valuable way to spend a writing hour, as timeline problems are a beast to fix later on. Best, in the course of making the calendar and looking closely at everything that had already occurred, I achieved new clarity on what should happen next. I now have a plan!

Yay for being an object in motion! Yay for the magic of momentum!

P.S. As I downloaded a Sir Isaac Newton stock photo to use in this post, I saw that I already had one saved on my computer. Hmm. I must have blogged about Newton's first law of motion at some time in the past. I Googled myself, and sure enough, I had, back in 2018! But this current post reflects on inertia from a different angle, so I'm glad I wrote that old one and was quite interested to read it as I had forgotten it even existed; now my present and future self can benefit from the wisdom of my past self. And I'm glad I wrote this one, too, for future me to read. And maybe for some of you! 

Thursday, September 1, 2022

The Newest New Life Ever

It's the first day of the new month, so the day I start (as I always do on the first of every month) a WHOLE ENTIRE NEW LIFE. But this one feels like the newest new life EVER.

In March I fell in love - desperately, hopelessly, till-death-do-us-part in love. By May he and I were fathoms deep in this, going happily back and forth between my home in South Boulder and his gorgeous apartment on West Pearl Street in Boulder, nestled at the foot of the mountains but in easy walking distance from the coffee shops and bookstores of our famed car-free downtown shopping area. The drive from one to the other was a mere 12 minutes. It was all absolutely perfect for new love to take root and grow toward the sun.

But in May he found out his lease wasn't being renewed... and he had to move... and we had to throw ourselves into house-hunting in a tight and tense real estate market... and ponder what our future together would look like now. He made a list of what he was searching for in a rental and came up with these criteria: not more than 20 minutes away from Claudia's house, fenced yard for his beloved German shepherd, and no stairs as a wise choice for the two of us as we age. 

Instead we both fell in love with a place with NONE of these features: far enough away from my house that the drive back and forth would be much less convenient, no yard at all, and stairs, stairs, and STAIRS!

He moved in at the start of August to this house in the near mountains, and now I'm pretty much here all the time, because it is SOOOO beautiful! It is the perfect place to be in love! AND the perfect place to write! And just.... perfect. The owner even gave it the name of Rainbow's End. What could be more perfect that that?


So here I am, trying to figure out how to be BOTH a woman who loves this man AND a woman who loves to write. My old routines are no longer working, so I'm groping toward new ones.

Old routine for the last few years:

Wake up at 3:30 a.m., decide that getting up at that hour is much too ridiculous, so stay in bed till 3:45 (which after all is the same as quarter to 4, a perfectly respectable time to get up), write for a blissful hour, piddle on my phone with Wordle and Duolingo for a while, leave at 5:50 to meet a friend for a walk by the lake, home by 7:30, with so much already accomplished that I am downright giddy with smugness and pity for others' slothfulness. 

Recent routine as a new lovebird:

Wake up at 5:30, cuddle in bed with my beloved till 6:30 or 7, sharing and analyzing our dreams and marveling that we could love anybody as much as we love each other, then long walk on a deserted lane tucked into a Ponderosa pine forest with Gaia-the-dog, back home by 8 or so, sit for an hour on the deck with coffee for him and hot chocolate for me, then stretching for him while I dally on my phone with games and our oatmeal slowly cooks, eat the oatmeal in a long leisurely breakfast on the other deck that ends at 11:00 - and OMG, the whole morning is gone and I have accomplished nothing!!! Nothing at all!!!

New routine for the new life:

Same as the lovebird routine, BUT with a dedicated hour-a-day of writing (timed with my hourglass) during part of the coffee-on-the-deck time and all the rest of the pre-breakfast time, with no time-wasting indulgences on my phone until after this is done, and then sweet reunion over the now well-earned oatmeal. I started this new regimen three days ago, on this past Monday; it's Thursday now, and I can report that I'm so much happier (despite having been extravagantly happy before). I'm a quarter or third of the way into a new middle-grade novel in progress that I adore - more on this to come. I finally have the momentum that comes from faithful, sustained commitment to a project.

Can I have love AND writing, too? On this first day of my newest new life ever, my answer is ... I think so?