GENREALITY

Ideally, my writing space is both fixed and fluid, a set place to create and tools to create anywhere. Because writing is fixed and fluid and happens on schedule and off. Really, if you’re writing a book, you’re always writing until it’s finished.

My writing spaces include sitting in the garden or on the balcony, in bed in that quiet headspace just before sleep when ideas and solutions suddenly click, in the shower (this is so common that you can buy waterproof paper and pens), in the car, on a walk, sitting at a desk, or in a comfy spot with a laptop.

The fixed writing space: it’s good to have ergonomic support, chair and desk adjusted for the right height, a screen that doesn’t cause blindness or headaches, keyboard that doesn’t cause strain. But you can write without these things. If the only equipment you have is a pad of paper and pen, you can write.

I find that the right space for writing changes as the day goes on, as the project goes on. Sometimes I have to get up and stand, or move outside, or sit at the desk focused like a laserbeam or huddle under the laptop until my spine kinks. If the writing is stuck, getting up and changing place or position can unstick things. Just like moving characters in a scene can move the writing along. Physical movement can prompt the words to move.

I’ve written on scribbled scraps of paper, but I don’t recommend this method; too often the results are unreadable later, and loose notes are easy to lose. I’ve written standing, sitting, reclining. I’ve tried dictating but the sound of my own voice drove me nuts. I’ve talked through plot problems while walking, thought them through while doing chores inside or out.

Feng shui may sound all woowoo, but try sitting with your back to a door, then with your back to a wall. Do you suddenly relax? I’ve never been able to write with my back to a door or an open room. I need something to have my back, literally, to relax and create. Pay attention to how your environment feels to you and what your environment is like when the words are flowing. It’s fairly easy to make small changes, move furniture, sit so the window doesn’t reflect on the screen, tidy up, or create an artful clutter that inspires. The Feng Shui Directory by Jane Butler-Biggs is a terrific resource for pointing out small changes that can make a big difference.

And now I’m going to sit out on the balcony and listen to birds and wonder what my characters can hear, feel, smell right now. Keeping your five senses sharp is yet another way writing space feeds the writing, and it’s easy to become dulled to familiar surroundings.

I love Christmas/Hannukah/Yule, whatever you call it, however you celebrate it, it’s time to let the kid inside out to play. And guess what? If you’re a writer, that’s a vital part of taking care of your creative self. But grownup responsibilities can overwhelm the fun, so here are 10 ways to help make the holiday season happy even for a writer on a deadline.

1. Eat the Christmas cookies. If you love them, eat them, enjoy them, have them on pretty plates with tea or coffee or eggnog. They come once a year.
2. Read your favorite holiday stories. I love Connie Willis’ Christmas tales especially, but there’s a world of choices out there. I read The Grinch to my kids yesterday and that never gets old.
3. Watch your favorite Christmas movies. Make time.
4. Call somebody.
5. Write somebody.
6. Play with your own kids or some in your extended family or friend circle. Busy parents will appreciate the gift of time to shop, bake or wrap unencumbered and the kid in you may enjoy playing with Playdoh, making snowmen, building with Legos, etc. more than you realize. I mean really, when was the last time you played?
7. Schedule time when you can sneak off into your own world of words. When it’s on the schedule you don’t have to feel guilty about all the holiday/family things you are NOT doing. When work time is up, go be present for everybody else. But make time to be present for you and your writing world and don’t try to do both at the same time.
8. You don’t actually have to spend all day in the kitchen to celebrate. Go out. Buy premade dishes from Costco. Holidays do not really have to mean a ton of extra work.
9. Start getting ready early. If it’s too late for that this year, do it next year. Just like you figure out how many words/pages you need each day or week to not be pressured at the end, you figure out how early you need to shop to not end up overnighting everything at the last minute in a panicked rush at the postal annex. If you can’t face the stores on Black Friday, guess what; Saturday will bring the same deals and hardly any crowds.
10. Remember that it isn’t merry for everybody. Kids in hospitals need books and toys and blankies, families in shelters need gifts and supplies, food banks need food. Check around your community to see how you can help out. Generosity and kindness make us better human beings and better writers.

I’m gearing up to get back to work as my maternity leave comes to an end. No, I’m not an actual employee, I’m self-employed. I still planned to not work for six weeks after the baby arrived. And as that time ends, going back to work for myself is every bit as critical as it would be if I had a boss to answer to. Even more so, in fact, because my responsibilities and obligations just increased. So how am I going back to work when my six weeks are up but I still have a newborn to care for? Preparation, and here are some strategies.

1. Prioritize to make the best use of time. Tasks fall into two loose categories: things I can do while the baby is awake, and things I can only do while the baby is asleep. If I can do it with her awake, I don’t waste sleeping time on it. And I start with the most important or urgent task on my to do list, in case that is the only thing I get done.
2. Make work mobile. If I can do it on the go, I can take it with me and work wherever I happen to be when I find myself with a few free minutes.
3. Keep the current project open. I can read and make notes even if I’m not free to write, keeping the project at work in my head. That way, when I have time to sit down and write for five minutes or an hour, I don’t waste that time figuring out where I left off and where to start.
4. Know your work style and work with it. I am most productive working on multiple projects at the same time. By not forcing myself to only do one thing, I can maximize my productivity instead of frustrating it.
5. Focus on the goal. It’s easy to get distracted by everything from self-doubt to Shiny Thing Syndrome, but that leads to lost time and mental energy that needs to go into work. If my goal is to keep writing and publishing and earning an income, I need to work. All I have to do is ask myself if worrying about whether I’m working on the wrong project or writing badly or if I should spend my day reading about the latest publishing news is going to help me achieve my goal of write/publish/earn to stay on track.

Some handy tips from others on preparation for productivity:
April Kihlstrom on Book in a Week

Michael Moorcock on writing a book in 3-10 days

And of course Candace Haven’s Fast Draft workshop is full of information, inspiration, and support for writing a book in two weeks.

In college, I did one really smart thing; I majored in psychology because I thought it would make me a better writer. It did, and it also exposed me to some really interesting thinkers and led to me reading Rollo May’s  The Courage to Create. If you never read a craft book in your life, you can still read that book and come away with a whole new appreciation for what it takes to be a writer, what it takes to do anything creative. The  main thing it takes is the willingness to do the work, however scary that might feel.

A recent interview with legendary comic writer Alan Moore from Wired brought this home to me all over again this week. It’s a long interview, but what he has to say about writers is something particularly pertinent in in the midst of Borders’ liquidation, agents becoming publishers, and contracts asking for more while print runs and advances shrink. To paraphrase, he asks what can you expect writers to contribute to culture when they’re afraid to ask for a raise.

It’s a valid point. If I’m afraid to rock the business boat, am I pulling my punches on the page? Watering down a scene, backing away from an image that’s too harsh, too powerful, and substituting something more palatable? Trying to make nice instead of trying to make something meaningful, something honest?

We write popular fiction, genre fiction, and our job is to entertain. But it’s also our job to be honest, to be fearless in expressing our vision, saying what we mean, going for the jugular when it’s called for. Or we end up with a finished product that doesn’t really make anybody laugh or cry or rage or make them believe they can overcome and triumph over their circumstances like the hero in a story.

A good writer friend once told me you have to write a “very” book. Very funny, very sexy, very scary, whatever. You have to know what you’re setting out to do, commit to it, and do it, no holding back. You don’t get a “very” book without writing fearlessly.

This is why writing fast often works really, really well; write fast enough and you don’t have time to be paralyzed by fear or to second-guess yourself.

Read the last scene you wrote and ask yourself; what would I say or do here if I wasn’t afraid of what somebody might think? When we’re creating is not the time to be cautious. It’s the time to throw caution to the winds. There’s plenty of time to tone things down in editing if you go too far, but time and time again when I turn in a book where I’m sure I went too far? My editors have never  thought so. Which tells me I probably didn’t go far enough.

My writing wish for us all is that we write fast, write furiously, write fearlessly, and go as far as our imaginations can stretch.

No, this isn’t about unplugging the internet, although maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. It’s about the changes we’re living through in publishing and in the economy. So many things are changing so quickly that it’s easy to feel disconnected from the business, from my peers, and from the work, too.

In romance especially there used to be all these easy labels. You were a category author or you were a single title author or you wrote paranormals or historicals. The labels have mushroomed and so have the paths to publication. Gothics and regencies are gone with the wind, although really they’ve just changed names and shapes. Category has shrunk to one house, Harlequin. Epublishing and self publishing have gone from something a published writer wouldn’t think about to being on every published writer’s radar.

If I write for Samhain, am I an epublished author? And what does that make the titles I’ve published under St. Martin’s, Pocket, Running Press? I’ve put two titles up in the world of self epublishing, a duo with Sasha White called A Rock and A Hard Place, and two stories from previous print anthologies, Men of Action. Does that make me an indie author?

What it makes me is diversified, and while that’s not nearly as clear and understandable a path as “category author” or “historical author”, it’s an inevitable path, I think. I may not have a clear label anymore, but I do have two that don’t change. I’m a writer. I’m also a business person, because writing is my business. When I feel particularly disconnected from the rapidly changing publishing industry, those two labels are good fallbacks.

And when I feel disconnected from my peers, it only takes a plaintive email to get answers back telling me I’m not alone. So I’m more connected than I think I am in my fugue of disconnect. We’re all in this publishing boat going off the edge of the map and we don’t know what we’ll find. The only certain things: we’re not alone, and we have our stories. Those make some powerful connections.