Blank page

I hate blank pages. They exist just to torment a writer. They scream out: “Fill me! Fill me!”, while simultaneously mocking: “Nyah nyah- you can’t think of anything to write.”
Wouldn’t it be easier to go back to the days when teachers assigned us something to write? Of course that has it’s drawbacks as well. What if we don’t like the topic? Aside from creative writing teachers, most of what we’re required to write in school is dry material. Now don’t shoot me, figuratively or literally. It’s just my personal opinion. Personal notes aside, we’re still left with the dreaded blank page.
Advice articles suggest continuing onto a page so you aren’t starting out blank. That only works if you’ve already started something. What happens if you’re at the dreaded beginning? Or working on a writing exercise. One that isn’t preplanned?
How about just writing down whatever is going through your head? You can always delete it later. Although “experts” say not to delete anything you write, since you might find a home for it later. If it has nothing to do with what your working on, then go ahead. No reader is going to be interested in the contents of your sock drawer when they want to know what’s happening in y0our story.
Just getting something down will jump start your mind and get your creative juices running. Plus the page will no longer be blank, so the fear is erased. Well temporarily conquered.

Ants go Marching

Millions of feet had followed the trail before him. Pounded their scent across this path. There was no way he could get lost. None. So why was he so afraid? There were no giant feet ready to step out and squash him. The wind was down. A looming leaf wasn’t about to come soaring from the heavens to drag him off the trail. Still, something felt off.
His antennae flickered. His body quivered. There was something wrong with this trail. But there was nothing he could see!
“Get a move on!” One of his thousand brothers shoved from behind.
“Yeah, c’mon. We’ve got work to do.”
He put one foot forward.
And slid it back.
He put another foot forward, and slid it back.
“Enough blocking the path!” Came a shout behind him.
“I can’t, I just can’t.” He mumbled under his breath.
“Just go around him already!”
One brave brother set out feelers and walked calmly around him, before stepping back on the path. One by one, all one thousand of his brother’s stepped around him, following the minor detour.
Detour? He was the problem with the path!

Focus

I've been writing. Sounds great doesn't it? A simple statement all the more evocative, because that's the entire point. The need to write. The desire to pound fingertips across the keyboard and get things fixed down before they start driving you nuts. Well me anyway. And it's a good thing I've been able to. I get seriously cranky when I go too long without writing.

To be fair, I also get cranky when the words don't flow out the way I want them to. Or when I get interrupted. Or when I'm deep in thought and someone says something to distract me and I lose my train of thought. (Ouch!) Or when I get cut off by some idiot. (Ok, I only get cranky then if my kids are in the car.) Gee, I'm an awfully cranky person.

Not that that bit of personal reflection has much bearing on my current focus. Focus. Focusing on focus. Sounds funny to me, but it's something I need to do. There are so many distractions that can keep me from my writing. Stray thoughts that will zap me from the marathon playing out in my mind.

My biggest distraction is my family. I've tried writing during the day, but invariably one of my kids needs something right that instant. You know the one. Just when I'm about to make a breakthrough. Really getting a description down, or figuring out the precise way to word something for the most effect. And I hate turning them away. Their draw on my attention is just as insistent as my writing. (My sanity vs their well-being. I go with their well-being every time.) So, I changed to writing at night after they're in bed. That worked until my husband had to tell me something. Or just had to show me something he found interesting. (Or something he wanted for Christmas, his birthday, or Father's day.)

It was terribly frustrating. My family held my attention and wouldn't let me escape for a few minutes. Or hours. Or days. (Just kidding on that last one. ;) ) It didn't matter how important writing was to me, my family needed my attention. Finally I came up with a solution. I'd get up an hour and half earlier every day to write. Big sacrifice for me, because I love my sleep. Rough enough when I needed to get up and shoo the kids to school, or make the younger one's breakfast. (Years ago I learned how to make oatmeal or pour a bowl of cereal in a fog, before I had my morning coffee.) Now here I was voluntarily going without sleep!

It was intimidating. I think the first few days I just stared at my computer. Puttered out a sentence or two. Went to bed earlier at night. Drank gallons of coffee in the morning. Stared blearily at my phone when the alarm went off to wake up the kids. But the more I did it, the more the words flowed. I was able to write up a scene, or at least a few paragraphs. Slowly I was making progress. I made more after I stopped looking everything up online. (I love to research.)

Then my husband had a trip he had to take. (And my mother, sister, and two nephews came to visit.) My writing time disappeared as I took on the temporary role of single parent. (My heart goes out to those that don't have it temporary. Being a single parent is one of the hardest things to do! I do it frequently, but lucky for my sanity, not all the time.) For two entire months I didn't write anything. (I'll spare you the details, they weren't pretty.)

When the kids went back to school after the holiday, I went back to writing. For a solid week I've gotten up early to write. And you know what? It's not so bad to go without those extra hours of sleep when I'm doing something I love. It all balances out. I get some writing done. I'm alert and more prepared to send my kids off to school. And I'm not as cranky. (My husband might argue that point, but I don't feel as cranky.) So, it's all about focusing when and where I need it.

Focus on my writing first thing in the morning. Remind my husband when it's time for him to get up. Focus on my two older kids while they get ready for school. Focus on my younger two when they get up. And split focus on my house, the kids, (and ok the tv too) during the day. Focus on my family after the three wandering members come home. Then sneak off to bed the first chance I get!

A new year- A new attempt

Ok, here I am blogging. Why? In a hopefully non-futile attempt to find my writing voice. That nebulous style thingy that is all my own. Something that (if you read all the articles by published authors) is needed to grab attention and transport you from an unpublished author to one that can pop into a bookstore and see the holy grail. Your name (or mine in this case) on the cover of a novel.

It seems in my writing that I constantly go back and edit myself. The backspace key is my enemy. My inner crit (I can't take credit for that, saw it somewhere on the web) won't shut up long enough for me to finish a project. Add in the distractions of children, a husband, and myriad household details that need my attention, and it leads up to a ton of frustration. (You missed it, just stopped to change a diaper.)

What this boils down to is a basic chance to trust my voice, and in effect, trust myself. That is what this blog is for. To throw myself out into the wind and trust that I can pull off a safe landing at the bottom, and not just become a red splat on the pavement. I wish myself luck, I have a feeling I'm going to need it.