Anti-procrastination Strategies

Ever had a no-big-deal phone call you needed to make and you put it off a couple of days and then it became near-impossible?

I do it. I see my husband do it. Are we the only ones?

I've read that procrastination is the art of making a big deal out of a trifle. I'm not sure I know the mechanism, but I know I do see items lodge in my to-do lists: again and again on the daily lists, then sometimes for weeks on the weekly list. (Today's daily list on magenta Post-it, week to the right on orange, both stuck to the desk feature called a writing slide, which can thus be pushed out of sight.)

The sure cure is, of course, to do everything immediately. And I'm pretty good about that most of the time. But let anything slip and it's soon in a free fall. Also, trying to do everything immediately obviously can create an unnecessary and tense sense of urgency about everything.

Once I finally mark one of these stuck items off my list, I feel terrific, all-powerful, silly for having delayed. (Maybe that's why I do it?)

Rewards have often worked for me: as soon as I do x, I get to do y.

Also, doing the hard item first is a no-brainer. It's so liberating that I always ask myself why I don't always do it. (Then I think of Paul of Damascus who had the same issue: wondering about why "the good he would do he (did) not." If Saint Paul had to deal with this, I shouldn't wonder that I do.)

So as anti-procrastination strategies, here are some possibilities:

*do it immediately
*do it now and get a marvelous self-awarded reward
*do the hard item first
*get someone else to do it
*discover an underlying reason for avoidance thus making it possible to act or decide not to
*realize that the task was really a bad idea and good sense is saying no
*pair up with someone else who has a long-delayed stupid little task and do them together, then celebrate
*do it in a half-distracted state so that it's done before you know it
*plunge in boldly, like a surfer going out through the breakers, relishing the experience

Other ideas?






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Getting Published

An update on an earlier report: two weeks ago I wrote here about The Writer Daughter. The daughter is that of my dear friend Connie who shared with me, back in the 60s, many long intense teenage literary discussions (we were both so artsy and special.) Connie's daughter Alexa in April received news that her first novel had won over a major-house editor who was enthusiastically presenting the book to her acquisitions committee.

Held breath ever since.

Well, the news was terrific! Several houses were interested in the book. And now ALEXA MARTIN has a deal for her debut novel at Hyperion for good money with an editor that she "really really really" likes. And the sales force is excited and comparing her to the excellent Sarah Dessen, of whom Alexa has long been a huge fan.

It's always nice to post good news about getting published. Plus, this good news has a long history for me.

Also, Alexa didn't start writing just yesterday either. She's one fine example of talent combined with the focus and persistence it takes to publish a book.

As she put it so ably in her email: Hurray!!!

An added thought: Mustn't give all the foundation-laying credit to those teenage book talks. Her father Dr. Larry Martin is a writer who decided to be a psychiatrist instead.



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A Model of Creative Courage

From citykitty, who describes herself as an actor and an introvert:

"Screw the fear of writing, I started my book."

Kudos to citykitty!



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Gag Reflex, Lizard Brain

My courage fails me often at the dentist's; I don't like gauze or metal or cement at the back of my mouth. My throat tries heroically to get rid of the stuff: thus an unseemly fit of gagging.

This morning, I was having "impressions" made for a nightguard, to help me stop grinding my teeth. This involved holding what felt like a half-pound of wet cement in my mouth for two full minutes, one minute each for upper and lower. My gag reflex (which I learned I should code as a mere gag response)kicked in with astonishing ferocity.

Even though I could get air, for a long moment I had the sensation of drowning, and of my body struggling to stay alive. I'd never seen death from this angle before, or descended so fully into my primitive self in order to fight back. And I was even breathing nitrous oxide at the time.

Eventually, we did get the job done, the able hygienist and I. But only after I'd had an enlightening experience of what it is to be a panicked animal.

I'm going to be able to use this information, though I'm not sure yet how. I'm hoping I'll figure out how to connect with that lizard-brain part of myself, now that I've met her. Maybe we could work together on some projects; there's too much energy there to waste.




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Obama at The Raleigh Times Bar

Yesterday I ran for a glimpse of our next president.

Sitting here at my computer, I'd half-consciously noted that a helicopter was hovering overhead. And that it wasn't going away. But didn't pause to ask myself why.

Then I got a hurried shouting cell phone call from my office partner who had walked down the street with her husband to eat dinner. Traffic was blocked, she said, and Obama was working his way down Hargett Street shaking hands.

Hargett Street is one block from my office. Had I not paused to put on lipstick, I'd have seen more. Nonetheless, I arrived breathless in time to see him, across the intersection, stepping lankily into his car. Even with the door shut, I could still see the trademark white shirt and tie through the glare on the window, which I watched until his entourage was gathered and headed out.

Thrilling! Seriously!

Obama and his wife had dropped into The Raleigh Times bar for 15 minutes and a beer. Owner Greg Hatem had had 30 minutes notice that he was coming. It was enough time for hundreds of people to gather, spilling out onto the sidewalks and filling the street, clapping and cheering and pressing to meet the candidate.

This bar and restaurant is named for the newspaper that was housed in the building, the same paper where I later had my first grownup job, as a reporter covering the desegregation of the Raleigh schools. (I blogged about a Times reunion there just before the restaurant opening.)

After growing up in this state in the Jim Crow era, to be able to see Obama campaigning at The Raleigh Times bar, to see a black man overwhelmingly win in North Carolina, where once blacks had to sit in to get a seat at a counter, gives me such pride and hope. We've come a long way.

And the undeniably bold Obama is already taking us closer to the way a neighborhood ought to be.

I look forward to celebrating his presidency.




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Bold Move: Keeping On

My polling place is at Holland Chapel A.M.E. Zion Church, about a quarter mile from my front door. Today is long-awaited primary day in North Carolina. I was voter number 73 at 8:45 this morning. There was no line; I could walk right in and vote. And it's always thrilling to me to do it.

I voted for Obama because I think he's less hawkish, more a negotiator than an adversary; because he's African-American, and he'd bring in a new set of Democrats. At the same time, I hated not to vote for Hillary Clinton. I like her health care plan. And the fact that she's a woman.

Most of all, I like the fact that she hasn't quit. She has kept going, full tilt. I admire that enormously.

For artists and others who work in nonmainstream ways, that kind of bold gutsy persistence is probably the single most important ability to have (assuming basic work competence.)

I like watching that bold persistence in action. Even if Clinton is defeated this year, I think there's a reasonable chance she may yet in a later election become president. I'm planning to vote for her next time (unless she's running against a bold gutsy persistent pacifist.)








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How to Expand Your Mind: Doodle

I'm a near-constant doodler. Now I discover that there's neurological evidence that doodling helps us think, solve problems, listen better, and keep better perspective. All of which helps out a lot when one is practicing boldness, creativity, and courage.

First, I discovered at White Cafe a review of a book, Keys to Drawing with Imagination by Bert Dodson. "Best of all, though (the book) contains delightful observations and insights, it isn't drowning in advice, but is mainly focused on fun, free-ranging exercises that plunge you straight into a world of creative experimentation."

The amazing doodly drawings resulting from these at White Cafe led me to go looking for any info on what doodling is coming from and leading to. What I learned in a nutshell in the 9 minute video, doodling: langage, gesture, and cognition, is: there's evidence that speech came, at least in part, from gesture rather than primitive vocalizations. And doodling is gesture. It uses motor skills.

The idea, simplistically put, is that doodling contacts and uses more of our own native creativity and communication equipment. In my experience, it just calms me down, allows for focus.

My first memory is of doodling. I was a toddler of late two or early three, out in the backyard squatting on a bare patch of dirt. I was wearing a sunsuit with a ruffly butt and making marks in the dirt with one wobbly little finger, the other arm held out in the air like an outrigger for balance. My mother and a neighbor were standing near.

I've always wondered why I remembered that. Now I have some support for the importance of making marks in dirt.

From the blog, Consider This: "Doodling taught me to say yes to the spontaneous me, no matter how dumb or clumsy the line was on the paper. By allowing one line to lead to another, by letting the drawing inform me instead of the other way around, I came to appreciate a vastly wider horizon of possibility for me and my world."

A few of my recent doodles: the intricate one below was drawn while listening to a novelist read a chapter of her work aloud for critical feedback, the orange gingerbread angel above is my notes of feedback on my own work, and the lines and circles were done in a class I was teaching while the participants are writing for a few minutes. Definitely three different states of mind.

Drawing the crowded one made it so much easier for me to listen to the reader. I felt as if all distracting thoughts were channeled onto the page and did not interrupt me.

Once many years ago, I wrote an article on root doctors for Sepia magazine. One of the healers I interviewed drew circles and spirals and swoops the entire time we were talking. It was entrancing for both of us.

It was pretty bold of the man to do it. I've found that in face-to-face conversations with clients, they sometimes look alarmed if I take up my artwork. Office supplies stores should sell signs that say Doodling Helps Me Think. Or maybe I could simply speak up.




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A Courage Quote

For moments when resolve wavers:



"Show me what I need to know

Take me where I need to go

I give thanks
for help unseen
already on its way"

--Native American Prayer


And thanks to artist and teacher Jane Dalton for passing this on to me.



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Holy Boldness

Googling for blogs on the subject of boldness, I discovered that the huge majority that came up first were religious, Christian in particular. I was surprised, but then I was made to realize that I was falling into a kind of stereotyping.

Here's the quote that set me straight, from Black Fire, White Fire, a blog aimed at African-American women:

"What is holy boldness? And why is it that anyone folks want to portray as goodly has to be small, weak-ish, scrawny, lowly, and lamb-y? Can there be no fierceness in goodness? ... Was Moses being 'scrawny' when he stood before the super power of his time, Egypt, and requested the freedom of his people?"

Note to self: there's nothing namby-pamby about taking a passionate and principled stand.





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Self-Actualization: Write Your Life

One way to acknowledge and fuel what we're about in life is to record and announce it. For example, telling my writer's group that I'll have a draft done by the end of August almost guarantees my getting it done by then.

I'm accustomed to using that technique, and have always found it amazingly effective, for myself and for others announcing their goals. Here's an expanded version of that idea.

This morning I learned that this is Personal History Month, certainly as good a time as any to write things down, both for ourselves and for later readers.

"You may find it a bit presumptuous, perhaps even arrogant or egotistical," writes Larry Lehmer of When Words Matter, "to put your own life down on paper. But ask yourself this: If your great grandparents had left a written record of their lives, would you read it?"

Putting down what you've done and what you're doing and the story of your family "makes it real" by showing the direction you've taken, the paths and patterns you've created. It's a process of taking stock that helps in making decisions about where to put time and energy, how to spend the coming years.

Lehmer is an expert in personal history writing and author of The Day the Music Died: The Last Tour of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens, and he knows the value of archives.

So do I. Working on a biography of painter and mystic Elisabeth Chant, I've found that every line she or any of her friends or relatives put down about their lives is valuable. I'm grateful to those who left these records. It's a gift to me; and I'll bet it was useful to the person writing at the time.

The current issue of Lehmer's free e-newsletter "Passing it On" gives a list of getting-started tips. I like Number 4: Start outlining your life, the major dates and events, in chronological order, with space provided to add new material as it comes to you.

Self-actualization--reaching one's full potential--is of course more than keeping records. But being clear, in writing, helps the process.

And May is also Creative Beginnings Month.










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Updike on Creative Courage

My model when I first began writing fiction was John Updike. I studied those Rabbit novels down to details of tenses and pronouns. More important, I found and find his work unsparingly honest and amazingly observant. His kind of writing requires an unflinching hand.

So I finally this week got around to reading his memoir in essays, Self-Consciousness, which has sat like hoarded chocolate on my to-read shelf for quite some time. Here he turns his famous scrutiny on himself, and does so in a manner that is neither self-aggrandizing nor self-deprecating. He manages balance while navigating the story of himself and his family and marriages, his world-view and his dental work.

Kirkus Reviews said the work is "A neat masterpiece of literary undressing." That reviewer said it well. And what a feat such a book is.

In it Updike deals directly with the subject of telling the tough truth and how he gears up to do it, in fiction and nonfiction. In short: he relies on a higher power.

"What small faith I have has given me what artistic courage I have. My theory was that God already knows everything and cannot be shocked. And only truth is useful and can be built upon. From a higher, inhuman point of view, only truth, however harsh, is holy."

I agree with all of that. And yet, I still flinch...at how my fellow lower humans may respond. Maybe he does too...and then writes it down anyway.

What philosophy (or self-help gimmick) helps you muster courage for your work?


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The Paradox of Creative Courage

The best way to have creative courage as you work is to forget about creativity, courage, fear, or imagination, and simply SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY.

The inner shakiness a lot of artists get is a lot like fear of public speaking: once the focus shifts to getting out what we have to say, with that becoming more important than how we're feeling, then the fear evaporates. Which we may not even realize until later.

Ever looked up and found that the time had passed and the work was done? (Well, a first draft of a piece of it, anyway.) It's a great feeling.


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A Positive View of Problems

Yesterday I paused at my local metaphysical bookstore Dancing Moon to buy a couple of birthday/housewarming presents. While checking out, I pulled one of the cards from the deck on the counter, the idea being that I would be guided to select one that would apply to me and my situation.

What the card said, in short: the problems you run into are chances to develop strengths and grow.

Okay, I'm willing to view dealing with the vast complications of the book business as weight-lifting. I don't know how long that attitude will last, but it did give me a brighter perspective yesterday that has lasted at least until today.

The attitude gibes with that of the admirable Ralph Waldo Emerson. From the Emerson on Man and God which was a gift to me in high school: "Difficulties exist to be surmounted. The great heart will no more complain of the obstructions that make success hard, than of the iron walls of the gun which hinder the shot from scattering. It was walled round with iron tube with that purpose, to give it irresistible force in one direction. A strenuous soul hates cheap successes."

I don't know any artist--or anyone, for that matter--who thinks of his or her successes as too easily won. Still, the obstacle-as-strengthener idea can take away some anger. I've developed an unnatural patience and a certainty of my own purpose through the years of obstacles (huge pain-in-the-ass interferences) that publishing so often presents.


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Courage

"The original notion of the word 'courage' means 'to stand by one's core,'"
says an Omega catalog description of a course taught by Mark Nepo, author of Facing the Lion, Being the Lion: Finding Inner Courage Where It Lives.

Podictionary.com says that the root of the word courage is the French for heart. "Bobby Kennedy ...said that for every ten men brave in battle there was only one with moral courage."

In either case, the word does not necessarily mean being on the front lines of just any battle. It means remaining steadfast to one's most strongly held passions and convictions. Which can refer to simply continuing to do your work, day after day.



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Grace Wang: Standing Her Ground

A Duke freshman from Qingdao, China, has stirred up world news in the last three weeks.

Twenty-year-old Grace Wang did this by trying to start a conversation between the two sides at a demonstration for and against independence for Tibet from China. On the evening of April 9, she was leaving a campus cafeteria and saw the two flag-bearing groups squaring off out on the main quad. She went over to check the situation out.

Then this young reader of Harvard Law School's Negotiation Journal decided to intervene, to get the two sides to talk. She had spent Christmas as the only Chinese student housed over the holiday in an apartment with three Tibetan students; it was too far for any of them to go home. Conversations with those three had been good and made her think that talking would be helpful for the two groups facing each other on the quad.

She wound up leaving the site under police protection. Now her parents in China have been forced into hiding. She and her parents are getting death threats. It's all a whole lot more than she had in mind.

But in an essay published in The Washington Post, she says: "I haven't shriveled up and slunk away. Instead, I've responded by publicizing this shameful incident, both to protect my parents and to get people to reflect on their behavior. I'm no longer afraid, and I'm determined to exercise my right to free speech."

I feel connected to this story. For one thing, when I taught creative writing at Duke last spring, a Tibetan student was in my more advanced class. I thought he had a lot of guts; just imagine taking an advanced fiction writing course in Tibetan.

Then too, forty years ago, I was a student at Duke making the same early evening trip Grace Wang was--between cafeteria and library--when trouble broke out. I wasn't involved in the campus demonstrations, but simply happened to come out onto the quad at the moment the National Guard entered the long drive up to the main quad and gassed anyone who happened to be there.

I remember running within the billows of eye-stinging smoke and seeing the narrowed silhouettes of others at a distance within the same yellowish cloud. I headed for what I hoped would be a building I could get into and breathe. I wound up in a men's dorm, stampeding with others down the halls until we finally came to a stop in a commons room, where the events outside were already on the national evening news.

I'll never forget the events of that dusk. And, for me, there were no death threats, no buckets of feces dumped at the entrance to my family's home.

Grace Wang wasn't angling for that either. And she may not have been thinking too hard about the possible negative fallout when she made her first move.

But her actions since that night--in staying public and making her story and her positions known--have been pretty courageous. She's now truly standing her own ground for freedom of expression.

(Information for this post comes from The Washington Post and The News & Observer in Raleigh.)


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The Writer Daughter

Back in the 60s, my friend Connie and I used to hold long discussions not only about our fellow high school students but also, with at least as much enthusiasm, about books. From about age 14 on until our mid-twenties and the birth of her first child, these discussions were a big deal. Then I had an all-consuming newspaper job and she had a baby and a move with her new family to another state.

That daughter, in her mid-thirties and living in the Pacific Northwest, now has an agent for her first novel and an excited editor who is presenting the book to his house's acquisitions committee this week.

This news is to me gratifying beyond measure. It feels right! I feel as if it proves some sort of immortality for those long-ago conversations while walking from my house on Mimosa Place over to hang out at the shopping center on Oleander.

Somehow this development makes the universe feel less random, reminds me that everything matters. Which is kinda thrilling.


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One Small Step Today

A phrase I heard in a Creative Capital seminar about a year ago has stuck with me: No goal too large, no step too small.

The point is that all the steps toward the goal count, and if we keep taking them, they steadily accumulate and also inspire larger leaps. If we faithfully take one step each day and keep on and on, it's amazing how far we can go.

Last week wandering around the charming downtown of the tiny NC mountain community of Sylva I remembered this saying. All it took was the sight of the county courthouse, which has the most steps I've ever seen on a public building still in use.

(The Acropolis has a sort of winding trail up, and those pyramids in Mexico are a shockingly steep climb but you don't have to go there to buy a marriage license etc. so the trip is optional.)

Had I had a helicopter I could have shot a picture that did these steps justice; there are in fact a couple of more flights beynond the statue that may look like the top. That's also the way with most projects I've undertaken: there are a few extra sets of steps thrown in, not visible from the start. So just when you think you've arrived...there's still more climbing.
All of this is to say: Take a step today toward your big, big goal. Even a tiny one will put you closer.




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Woman Driver

At this point in history, it shouldn't be a surprise to see a woman doing "a man's job" and vice versa.

Still, I had a moment of startlement and delight when I realized that this mowing-person at Western Carolina was a girl. (She appeared to be under 21, thus the use of "girl", rather than "woman".)

And, on the national scene, we're still approaching a gender/minority first: the Democratic nominee will be either a woman or an African-American. So falling barriers aren't exactly old news yet.

Growing up in the South in the 50s, I will probably always experience startlement and delight at seeing these barriers eroded and removed.

I imagine that girl on the mowing machine might still have startled someone when she asked for the job.

I say: Yay! for her and for whoever gave her the job.




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A Religious Basis for Being Yourself

"God speaks to you not only through His supernatural grace, but also through the individual nature which He fashioned into the person you are today. He would have you make an intelligent, reasonable use of the gift that is 'you'."

From, Anthony J. Paone, S.J.
Confraternity Of The Precious Blood
(an order of cloistered contemplatives)

This appeared yesterday on Scott Burkhead 's Daily Spiritual Guide, a wildly eclectic daily mix of genuinely uplifting tidbits.

And now for my commentary on this text:

"Reasonable" worries me a little, because it's easy to view something difficult as impossible, and therefore unreasonable. The use of the male pronoun bothers me too. But with those caveats, I love this idea.

My own religion is a patchwork; and this belief of the authentic self being a gift fits into it nicely. Moreover, I like a moral basis for something I'm working on talking myself into. We all hear a lot about being "selfless." I think we have to be ourselves before we have anything to offer anyone else, and before we have a self to transcend.



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Today's Bold Move

I find that if I'm a tad cheeky about my choice of little things, it fires me up to be gutsier and more imaginative about more important things.

So today getting dressed I discovered that, to avoid the unseemly bare midriff, this sweater needed more than the one button the hip manufacturer provided.

Hidden safety pins didn't work at all.

My cool solution (oh, I'm so pleased) was a couple of pins of the decorative sort. The possibilities are tremendous: we could do this with political buttons. Two Barack Obama buttons, or two Hillary Clinton buttons, as the case may be.

Campaigners, listen up! I hope you jump on this idea. It's yours at no charge.



These "buttons" are acting as booster rockets to my day.

Any little boldness boosters of your own you'd be willing to pass on?





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How To Ward Off Writer's Block

“The second that I think that I have a fear of writing, (I think) ‘No, no, this is just a joyous thing to sit down and tell a story,’” he said.

This is the strategy of writer and fourth grade teacher Ross Modlin, as reported by Cameron Macdonald in The Elk Grove Citizen in Elk Grove, California.

I like simple strategies the best. The complicated ones just seem an additional burden.

This one is flexible because we could take the beginning of the sentence and finish it with anything that needs unsticking.

For example: This is just a joyous thing to design a new course...to begin the revisions that will make this piece so much stronger...to draw a picture....

Also, note that Modlin uses this thought the instant he notices fear coming on.

(The teacher who helped me the most toward becoming a writer was also named Modlin--Mildred Modlin, teaching in Wilmington, NC in the 1960s. So I'm predisposed to thinking this fellow is offering good advice.

One other auspicious sign: Elk Grove was a home base for many gold miners during the Gold Rush. Of course practicing any art is a process of mining for the gold.)

So today's work is just a joyous thing: to go digging for gold, in the company of other miners scattered here and there about the land.



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A Bold Idea: Sabbatical

I can now shut up about the fact that when I was in high school I was not selected to go to Governor's School in the summer. In the last week I got my own mini-Governor's School.

About 25 years ago, North Carolina Teacher of the Year Jean Powell suggested in a speech that there be a sort of Governor's School for teachers. The (few and fortunate) high-performing high school kids chosen each year to attend this advanced and fabulously enriching boarding school session always came back so excited about learning.

So, Powell said, why not do the same thing for teachers? And send them back to the classroom re-excited about teaching and learning.

Then-Governor Jim Hunt jumped on the idea and the North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching was born.

This week I've been teaching a class here called "Write from your Roots." I feel I'm the one who is refreshed and re-excited about learning...and about my own teaching and writing and living.

The 22 guests--teachers, counselors, and librarians--and the staff I worked with here (Jane Dalton, author of The Compassionate Classroom and Tara Melton-Miller) could teach anybody anything. I hope the "students" have gotten even a fraction of the good from the experience that I have.

If you happen to work for the NC public schools, take a bold step and apply to come here. There's a magic chemistry happening on this 30-acre mountain campus--and no doubt at the coastal Ocracoke site as well.

If you aren't eligible, TAKE A BOLD STEP AND FIND YOUR OWN SABBATICAL SOMEWHERE. Even a few days can be a small lifetime tucked into the big one.

Thanks to Jean Powell who boldly spoke up about a good idea and to Jim Hunt who said: let's do it. And to the Legislature that helps it continue. And of course to NCCAT.

Woohoo! I'm coming back! Take that, Governor's School selection panel of 1965-66!



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Teachers as Writers

I do some teaching, but am primarily a writer. Not unusual. Many, if not most, career writers also teach. But perhaps unlike those who are drawn to teaching first, lots of the writers-who-teach are pretty introverted.

This week I'm leading a group made up of people who are career public school educators and are spending this week (at the NC Center for the Advancement of Teaching) doing some writing.

After four days, I find myself fascinated by the good things I see in the way teachers conduct themselves as writers.

Almost all of these people are used to "presenting" all day. They are not shy. Or if they are, they're hiding it well. They're also very practiced communicators, with a lot of experience in giving feedback, getting people's attention, laying down the law, and making sure people understand the assignment.

These strengths show in their writing. As writers, they're clear. Bold. They get their message out. Not once have I had the impulse to say: I'm not getting what you mean here.

Whereas, my biggest struggle as a writer is to be sure I'm not too understated. And that's a fairly common piece of feedback in the writing group I've been in for years.

So it's refreshing and inspiring to sit with writers who, with very little hesitation, get their thoughts on the page and their writing out to others. And, for the teacher-writers, it's a great advantage they have as they begin a new kind of writing, for self-expression.




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Courage for the Inner Journey

Here's the scenery outside the classroom window where I'm leading a group this week on Writing from Your Roots. (My seat faces the wall of windows, I'm happy to say.)

The group is a couple of dozen teachers from all over North Carolina, meeting at the NC Center for the Advancement of Teaching in Cullowhee.

Seminars here are designed to refresh and re-inspire the teachers. This particular topic is also one that requires of them a fair amount of courage, because writing from the deepest part of oneself takes some digging. And there's often material that's painful, sometimes material that's a surprise.

Tough prose has been read around our table this week: about dealing with a parent's suicide, an early widowhood, and being a refugee from the war in Bosnia, about facing one's buried angers and fears, as well as more joyful experience.

People have leaped over their in-the-moment fears and hesitation and written strong stories. It has been exciting and gratifying to watch and hear.

I applaud these writers and will keep their courage in mind as an example when I'm back at my own manuscript. Because writing fiction also requires some well-digging, before the fountain rises shining in the air.



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40 Inspiring Writing Blogs

Kathryn Vercillo has posted links to "40 Inspiring Writing Blogs that you Don’t Already Read" on her site Real Words from a Real Writer.

You'll find that there's at least one on the list that you do already read. And thanks to Kathryn for including this site.


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If It Scares You...

The seminar I'm leading this week of 22 NC public school teachers got rolling last night and I discovered that teachers are the ideal folks to have in a discussion group. Wow, what a bunch of thoughtful live wires.

This gathering is at NCCAT in Cullowhee in the NC mountains. That's the NC Center for the Advancement of Teaching. Gorgeous campus. From where I sit in our meeting room I can watch the spire of water in the fountain in the center of the pond next to the dining room.

So yesterday I was going on about my pre-teaching nervousness. It's gone. As always, getting moving makes the difference.

In our discussion last night, one person volunteered some wisdom from her sister: If it scares the shit out of you, do it.

I'd qualify that a tad: if the risk is reasonably low and the gain is significant, do it. I still don't see the point of bungee jumping.

Otherwise, doing what we want to do is worth weathering a bit of initial uneasiness. It's more than worth it.


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A Teaching Week

I just arrived in Cullowhee in the NC mountains where I'm leading a writing group for NCCAT--the North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching.

I meet with the group for the first time twenty minutes from now. I always have "green room" nervousness just before starting. Once we get going I'm fine. But still these twenty minutes to go.

It's curious to me that I'm edgy like this before running a group. Public speaking never worries me at all. It feels completely different; it's just talking. Whereas, a class needs to really deliver something.

18 minutes now.

Think I'll go for a walk. Or talk to people, that always distracts me and gets me pumped up.



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A Creativity Site Recommendation

Kay from California just sent an address to a mind-stirring site from the guy who wrote A Whack on the Side of the Head: How You Can Be More Creative, just re-released in a 25th anniversary edition.

The same fellow also produced the Creative Whack Pack, a set of cards with 64 different imaginative idea-producing strategies and the Ball of Whacks, "a creativity workshop in a ball."

I have a set of those cards in my bottom desk drawer, but I'd never before gone looking for the site: Creative Think by Roger von Oech. It's a plenty lively place.

In a recent post, von Oech suggests having a "mantra" for your work, but using the word more in the sense of a motto. His is "Look for a second right answer." That's bound to produce interesting outcomes, and it contains a strategy not simply a goal.

My own is "Go after the best result," with the fuller version being: "I unhesitatingly, serenely, joyfully go after the best result." I want to figure out a way to build in the kind of strategy his offers. I'm convinced that having a pithy statement of guiding principle installed in my brain is a bit like having a centerboard in a sailboat.





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Make A Mistake Today!

This quote arrived at the bottom of an email this week:

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep." Scott Adams

I love the idea because it's true and it has the potential to take away the destructive performance pressure so many of us put on ourselves.

Having read this item and pondered it, I then went looking for the identity of the to-me mysterious Scott Adams. Turns out he's famous: the creator of Dilbert.
He's also quite an aphorist. Brainy Quote has a long list of good sayings from him, ranging from wry to inspiring.

Here's another sample from the inspirational end of his spectrum: "Most success springs from an obstacle or failure. I became a cartoonist largely because I failed in my goal of becoming a successful executive."




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The Closet Challenge

A few days ago, Mamie Potter of the Can I Do It? blog posted a photo of her closet and an invitation on this blog for others to do the same.

She was simply considering cleaning hers out. In response, Billie Hinton posted a shot of hers on her blog, Camera Obscura saying, "I don't know why but I love the idea of exposing my junky inner self to the world."

Not having anything to hide is a very freeing thing. I never thought of my closet as being hidden, but "in the closet" is certainly the classic phrase used for keeping a large secret.

So I think Mamie's really onto something with this idea. And here is the unveiling of my own junky inner self. It is so much neater than my mental world--or the inside of my car.



If any of the rest of you decide to take part in this closet experiment, do let us all know.



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Getting to the Real Reason

Yesterday, I was griping about being in a nasty mood about a list of annoyances.

This morning, my husband Bob, who is a psychologist, suggested that maybe my irritation list wasn't the main thing that's bothering me. Maybe instead it's that a family member is showing undeniable and troubling symptoms.

The truth swept over me--slo-mo. He was right. That was it, I could feel the certainty of it in my jaw muscles, which I've been (destructively) clenching in my sleep.

Now, why can't I always figure out for myself what's bothering me? Is it aversion to facing the real reason? Lack of courage/boldness?

I had even questioned earlier how I could feel so sad and mean over stuff that's pretty familiar and doesn't usually get to me at all.

I'd like to have a procedure for: getting to the real reason for whatever is going on in my own head. Because just identifying it is a tremendous relief. And because I don't like deceiving myself.

Again, I welcome your ideas.

Upcoming: in response to the dare/meme from Mamie Potter at Can I Do It?, tomorrow I post my closet picture, thus letting it all hang out.



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What to Do for a Bad Mood

First let me say that there's nothing life-and-death troubling me just now. But at the moment I do have computer problems, dental problems, agent problems, and book problems. I'm sure I could think of something else to put on that list if I put my irritated mind to it.

Last night my husband asked me what he could to cheer me (he's a large bright spot, that's for sure.) I told him he could bring me home a gooey dessert. He brought a slice of cheesecake with a layer of chocolate crumbles on the top. Good man. Good cheesecake.

Gooey chocolate dessert: That's one thing to do for a bad mood, as long as the cure doesn't get out of hand. (I also meditated for half a hour which helped too.)

What do you do for a minor but brain-numbing multi-day bad mood? (Better come up with something or I'm likely to get out of hand.)



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Write from Our Roots

Next week I'll be teaching a workshop in the North Carolina mountains titled "Write From Our Roots", for the NC Center for the Advancement of Teaching.

A piece I read yesterday in The New York Times Book Review reminded me that roots can be understood in a variety of ways. In an essay on the excellent Jhumpa Lahiri's new book Unaccustomed Earth, Liesl Schillinger noted that the writer "shows that the place to which you feel the strongest attachment isn't necessarily the country you're tied to by blood or birth: it's the place that allows you to become yourself. This place, she quietly indicates, may not lie on any map."

I ask myself what that "place" is for me and I suspect that it's my love for and memory of my hometown of Wilmington, NC. Paradoxically, it's the place that I tried hardest to be like everyone else.

The biography I'm researching is about an artist who lived there before me and who was at least as peculiar as I was naturally inclined to be.

There's one writer/therapist (Harville Hendrix, Getting the Love You Want) who says that we choose as mates people who have the traits that challenged us as kids. The idea is: this time I'm going to get it right.

Maybe something similar is going on with my selection of subject. But the fact is: I mostly don't regret my efforts back then to fit in. That's a reasonable choice, and can be a bold choice; just as it's possible to be both a feminist and a housewife. (I never know where I'm going to wind up when I start writing one of these posts, same with novels.)

Anyway, as I prepare to teach this short course next week, I'm examining my own roots once again, including those that don't lie on a map.





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All Comparisons Are Odious

I don't know who first said that, but I do think we all suffer from comparisons.

I just visited Debbie Whaley's wonderful blog, Four Angels' Momma . It was such a pleasure and an uplift to be there. After a few minutes, a familiar destructive thought crept in: why am I not writing a warm blog like this, that feels, not sappy, but more like hot chocolate and excellent slippers and a reading chair, even when it's about the beach.

Then I remembered: this is a clear example of why I'm writing this blog as I am. To encourage us each to do our own thing. Me, especially.

I need to write about the sneaking destructive thoughts and how to catch and make friends with them. (This process is for me crucial to the process of writing--grabbing the fleeting creatures and interviewing them.)

So again I say to myself and anyone else interested: the world loses when any of us abandons her/his own dharma and goes to imitating.



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"The Anxiety of Nothingness"

What could possibly ever be scary about writing, painting, the blank page, etc? Rollo May, author of The Courage to Create, says it's fear of going into the chaotic unknown.

“This is what the existentialists call the anxiety of nothingness." (quote from La Bloga, a litblog about Chicana/Chicano writers.

My feeling is that it's not necessarily because of the fear of confronting nothing; it's also because of the snakes and spiders one might find.

The novel I'm working on--particularly intensely yesterday--will likely be considered by some to be a rather nasty book. It has some scenes that might be called hard-core.

Why have I written this? I don't altogether know. But I can say that it's a combo of calling and desire and some weird feeling of inevitability, karma or dharma. (I also think it's a damn good book, hope it will appeal to fans of the superb literary and erotic writer Susanna Moore, among others.)

Some years ago, I made a promise to myself to write what emerged from my depths, however strange. I'm doing it, and watching the process with curiousity, defiance, uneasiness, pride, puzzlement, and gusto.



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Writing Trance

Too caught up in my novel to switch gears for blogging today. Hope your project is also deeply engrossing.



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The Power of Each Pair of Hands

At a cleanup at North Carolina's Jordan Lake (near my house) a few weeks ago, about 50 volunteers picked up trash over a period of 4.5 hours. (Previous post title: So Glad I Did)

The results: 110 old tires and roughly 250 large bags of trash.

The bold move: getting out there when you might think lots of people are going and two more hands won't make all that much difference.

The pictures are from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which organized the effort and grilled hotdogs afterwards.





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Ode

Just ran across a magazine "for intelligent optimists" that is both predictably upbeat and appealingly unpredictable. Ode Magazine started in Rotterdam in 1995 and has been publishing out of San Francisco since 2004.

The current April issue includes a piece by William Stimson, a proponent of "radical simplicity," titled "How to Move a Tree: Why Attempting the Impossible Is Always the Right Thing to Do."

And, in the surprising category, is a story: "Tax the Beautiful: Ugly People Should Be Compensated for their Obvious Disadvantage in Society, argues Gonzalo Otaloro." (by Marco Fisher)

Taxing the beautiful is the most outrageous idea I've heard since a few days ago when a Republican candidate for statewide office in NC was reported as favoring merger of the U.S. and Canada.

I can't say that I support either of those, but I love the wide-ranging thinking they show.



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Do One Nice Thing

Doing a nice thing for someone can also be encouraging and empowering, as well as health-improving, for the do-er. (See The Healing Power of Doing Good, by Allan Luks with me, Peggy Payne.)

My local paper Sunday ran a piece by Jane Lampman from The Christian Science Monitor about a woman and her website who promote doing a nice thing every Monday. DoOneNiceThing.com offers specific suggestions and addresses if you'd like to send a nice thing: for example, a packet of pencils, notebook, etc. for a child in Afghanistan. This one idea has resulted in the delivery of 70 tons of school supplies.

The originator of the site, Debbie Tenzer, an LA marketing pro, also found that it perked up her sometimes discouraging Mondays.

I do realize that today is Tuesday, but we could secretly pretend it's Monday and do something nice anyway. As Martha might say, It's a bold thing.



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Cross-Training

If you've been practicing and teaching your art for a while, it's helpful to occasionally become a beginner at something else. This experience refreshes the practitioner's imagination and renews the teacher's empathy.

Years ago, I heard novelist Lee Smith say to a writing workshop group: if you're new at this, I have some sense of how you feel; I just started taking a tap dance class.

Yesterday, I was a construction assistant to my brother Franc Payne, who is renovating a house in Atlantic, NC, on one of the huge sounds behind the Outer Banks.

I'd never done this kind of work before. (The only thing I ever built before was, tellingly, a lectern when I was about nine, and it was wobbly.)

I found I was pretty fair at carrying lumber in and hauling old bricks out, a bit tentative on subtracting fractions fast in my head, and quite wary of the nail gun and the electric saw.

In addition to having had a wonderful day-long visit with my brother, I return to my desk today well-exercised and with a wider view of the world...and probably more patience with the fact that in the arts we're always beginners.



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A Cure from the Creative Unconscious

Yesterday I very reluctantly took a small action toward where I need to be and made a paradoxical leap forward.

Translating that into more concrete terms: A week or so ago, I posted here that I was going to have to relax, at least in my sleep, because I've been damaging my teeth because of jaw tension at night.

My first goal was to convince myself that tension is bad. "To do this I first have to recode my tense muscles as unhealthy. Right now, I view a state of tension as sleek and alert and leopard-like. That's got to change, all the way down in the basement of my mind. I think that once that's done, the rest may come along naturally."

So yesterday I attended a four-hour hypnosis workshop led by my psychologist-hypnotherapist husband Bob (Dick), with the stated aim of learning to see my unconscious tension as bad. (I'd never even felt this clenching, since it only happened in my sleep.)

Here's what happened: I fogged out in trance as Bob led an induction for the group of about a dozen, each of whom had described some desired change. When I "woke up" maybe twenty minutes later, I was in pain from my forehead down to my collarbone. All the bones in my face hurt. At first, I was disappointed, thinking: well, I've only made my trouble worse.

Then I realized: I'd just created the motivation I needed, had just changed my whole view of this tension. There was no question that it was bad; it felt like a killer sinus headache all over my face. That continued until I went to sleep last night.

I am now entirely sure that this kind of tension is bad. It is not strength in any form. It has been grinding me down. And I'm pretty sure that, with this new awareness, my basement mind is convinced and that I'm on the way to being through with it, if not already there.

Putting one's whole mind to work on a problem, of art or anything else, can create some pretty amazing results.



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And He Thinks Writing Is Scary?

We all know how to muster courage in a scary situation. That knowledge is transferable.

I knew a fellow once who was a Marine fighter pilot, but the prospect of finishing his novel made him nervous. He finally marshalled his airplane driver gumption, wrapped up the book and sold it to a major house.

A lot of the time the things that stump us are really the easier ones. I find that if I shift myself into the easeful state of mind of earlier successful ventures then I can ride on that courage to take on the sticky challenge at hand.

From the Charleston Post and Courier, here's another writer with a paradoxical courage story, James Lynah Palmer,author of a collection of stories, "Going Coastal."

"When friend and publisher Donna Huffman asked him to publish stories in the magazine in 2003, he was wary.

'I've always had a fear of writing,' he said. Huffmann suggested he use a pseudonym to write his stories. He took her up on the offer and Stumblin' Jimmy Watermelon was born. "Going Coastal" encompasses three years of these stories. Palmer continues to write stories for the Bluffton Breeze. This is his first book...

When not writing stories, Palmer has made a business of fashioning underwater sculptures, scuba diving to find underwater materials to turn into art. He's turned sunken logs and rocks into fish carvings and carved an angry fictitious "Hugo" character into a rock underwater near Mepkin Abbey. He also finds businesses and corporations to sponsor the projects."

Added note: for some of us, finding corporate sponsors can be a project requiring monumental courage. Often we don't give ourselves credit for large accomplishments simply because they're familiar and routine. Everybody has a few heroic acts in their pockets; it's simply a matter of recognizing them.


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Blunder On!

Here's some encouragement from a blogging minister that can be useful whatever your beliefs:

"...It scares me to think how easy it would be to let fear keep me from doing something God called me to do! And how many others are not doing things God gave them the talent to do because they focus too much on their weaknesses and shortcomings? What are you not doing because you fear ridicule, failure, or revealing your foibles? Maybe by risking being the village idiot occasionally you might help someone else learn a powerful lesson that could change their life."



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More Odd Things

See previous post for explanation. Once you start gathering items, it's hard to stop.


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Odd Things

Innovation is little more than old things put to new uses, or elements combined in new ways.

Recently my office partner Carrie Knowles picked up a piece of curved transparent plastic from the floor near my desk. It turned out to be the handle I'd cut off of the floor protector under my desk chair, no longer needed once the plastic square was in place.

I said: hand it to me, I'll throw it away.

She said: No, I can make something out of this.

Thus began my collection of "odd things." In recent weeks, for Carrie's art, I've been saving the weird bits of stuff that I'd always looked twice and hated to dump but didn't have a use for.

Lots of these items have been unidentifiable; no one would have guessed that that plastic curve was a cut-off handle from a floor protector. This latest batch is mostly items that are recognizable. I'm particularly proud of that big-eyed fishing lure, which I found in the woods near neighboring Jordan Lake. I would have also had trouble throwing away the wonderfully deep divider from a box of jelly beans.

Now these items are on their way to becoming art supplies. I already saw what Carrie did with a sack of corks I sent her way. She cut them lengthwise into thin layers and used them as stamps for printmaking. These cork-stamps produce very interesting patterns.

Thinking of junk as art resources has done at least as much for my way of seeing as it has done for Carrie's store of useful odd things.

Altered Intersection is a site you might like to visit, "...where thrift store scores, found objects, and natural materials come together."

Looking at this kind of art helps loosen up my brain.



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The Daily Courage to Write

Whosoever can drive a car can manage any of the risks that art and self-expression involve.

Just think about what's involved in driving, the constant risk, and cars in the opposing lane passing at high speeds only a few feet away. And yet we're unworried enough to talk on the phone, adjust the heat and the radio, and admire the scenery, while we're hurtling along.

I wouldn't think of handling a chain saw--a machine like that? with a sharp blade?--I'm not good at machinery, much too dangerous. But piloting my own speed craft--that I can do in the dark.

What all this signifies to me is that it's a matter of growing accustomed to the practice and the risk. What we do every day --writing, for example--ceases to feel so monumental. The resulting relaxation is good for the imagination, the productivity, and the pleasure in the process.



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Teeth Clenching

This morning my dentist told me I've developed some problems from clenching my teeth in my sleep and from bone loss from osteoporosis.

Now it's mid-afternoon and, in a true fit of self-absorption, I've thought of very little but my mouth since. This pondering has focused on: blaming myself for being tense and wondering what else I've done wrong to cause this. And on how much it will cost to get it fixed. And how bad it could get.

(The form for my worrying was writing a one-page summary of a book that would help me deal with this, that I wish I had today.)

I do know that my immediate focus on money is in large part to ward off awareness of aging and eventual death, and the question of whether I've played my cards right so far in this life. (Quite enough to make a person clench her teeth.)

Just now I talked with my clinical psychologist-hypnotist husband Bob on the phone; and he had some good ideas.

What my strategy comes down to (aside from dental work) is boldly relaxing, which seems to me an oxymoron. To do this I first have to recode my tense muscles as unhealthy. Right now, I view a state of tension as sleek and alert and leopard-like. That's got to change, all the way down in the basement of my mind. I think that once that's done, the rest may come along naturally.



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Adaptive or Innovative

Just ran across an idea on a three-year-old issue of a creativity ezine about styles of creativity. Citing work by Charles Prather and Lisa Gundry in Blueprints for Innovation, the article describes two innate approaches: adaptive innovation, which is working to fine-tune or patch up existing systems; and innovative, which is creating an entirely new system.

For a writer that comes down to: do you prefer doing your first drafts or revisions? I'd rather think that I'm innovative, but in fact I prefer revising.

And of course we all have to do some of both. Helpful to know one's preference, though. For me a first draft is best approached as getting something down as fast as possible, then settle into the warm bath of playing in the story, once I know its outlines.



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On Writer's Block

"It’s not the fear of writing that blocks people, it’s fear of not writing well..." This comes from L.S. Russell: Trying to Stay On Top of Things.

I agree.

The tyranny of our unreasonable standards can get in the way of doing our best work. So can the outrageous idea that a new piece, a first draft, is supposed to immediately rise to the level of earlier finished work.

That's sort of like handing a baby a briefcase and sending her off to take the bar exam. There are a lot of steps between start and finish that can't be skipped.


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The Daffodil Principle

This is excerpted from one of those e-mails that's going around. Often they're soppy-sentimental, or funny, or trying-hard-to-be-funny. I found this one pretty inspiring. So thank you to whoever wrote it>



"...Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

'Who did this?' I asked Carolyn. 'Just one woman,' Carolyn answered. 'She lives on the property. That's her home.' Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. 'Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking', was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. '50,000 bulbs,' it read. The second answer was, 'One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.' The third answer was, 'Began in 1958.'

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.


That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

'It makes me sad in a way,' I admitted to Carolyn. 'What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!'

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. 'Start tomorrow,' she said. (NOTE: I'd say, start today, start this minute.)

She was right. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, 'How can I put this to use today?'

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....

Until your car or home is paid off

Until you get a new car or home

Until your kids leave the house

Until you go back to school

Until you finish school

Until you clean the house

Until you organize the garage

Until you clean off your desk

Until you lose 10 lbs.

Until you gain 10 lbs.

Until you get married

Until you get a divorce

Until you have kids

Until the kids go to school

Until you retire

Until summer

Until spring

Until winter

Until fall

Until you die...

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."




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