Writing Salon Mistress Muses

Advice for People Who Take Writing Advice

Here's the beginning to a fun blog post that I read this morning.

This morning, I flip-clicked through my blog roll and landed on Craig Lancaster’s always-interesting blog. [Craig Lancaster is the author of a novel soon to be released by Riverbend Publishing.] In the entry, “How Do You Do It,” Lancaster answers a question–”How do you do it?”–posed by a facebook friend who wanted to know how Lancaster gets started on a story.

read entire post here:  www.backwordbooks.com

If you don't have time to read the whole post, here's an excerpt that was my favorite part. It dovetails perfectly with what I believe about life in general, which is this: There's rarely only ONE right way to do ANYTHING!

Hang around writers or dabble in the writing world long enough and you’ll hear it all.

1. When to write. (First thing in the morning. An hour after you wake up. At the same time every day. At a different time every day. When you’re all alone in the house/apartment. When you can hear welcome noises through the door. After dinner. Just before going to sleep. At midnight when your mind is clear of the day’s stresses. At three in the morning when no one in the world except third-shift workers are crazy enough to be awake on purpose.)

2. How often to write. (Once a day. Once every two days. Once a week. Every other Thursday.)

3. How much to write. (One thousand words. Two hundred words. Three single-spaced pages. A sentence.)

4. How often and how much to write. (A thousand words a day. One sentence every day. Two pages every two days, even if one of those days you write nothing…as long as you end up with two pages every other day.)

5. How often, how much, and when to write. (Two pages every second Thursday at seven-thirty in the morning!)

And not to be forgotten are the personal essentials:

1. Where your writing space should be. (In the middle of things. Off somewhere private. Half and half.)

2. What your writing space should be. (Small and cozy to keep your ideas close. Large, open, and airy to let your mind roam free. Neat and organized, as should you be! Cluttered and comfortable—creativity knows no rules!)

3. Final touch-ups. (Books around you. A nice pen. Soft music. No music. Open window. Closed window, shades down. Pickle-juice on your forehead and a post-it in your mouth.)

Here’s my advice:

1. When to write: when you want to.
2. How often to write: as often as you want to.
3. How much to write: until you feel like stopping.
4. How often and how much to write: see #2 and #3.
5. How much, how often, and when to write: see #1 - #4.
6. Where and what your writing space should be: wherever and whatever appeals to you. (I’ll write in one spot at no certain time of day for months, and then I’ll simply have to be in a new room if I’m to feel inspired at all.)

No one knows you the way you do, and you are probably very aware of what makes you comfortable, when you do or don’t feel inspired, and what you like to have around you. What works for one writer will not work for others.

About Creative Writing - A Few Musings

The most important thing I've learned about creative writing — while trying to teach people about creative writing — is that all you can get  (of  any real, lasting value) from writing teachers are hints, tips, general guidelines, and suggestions. You mustn't expect rules or cut-and-dried-answers.

If you want to write creatively, it's up to you to be creative about how you go about it. It's up to you to figure out what works for you. Take, for example, your creative process. Some people write every day for one hour. Other people write once a week for five hours. Some people generate ideas by freewriting. Others generate ideas by thinking and planning before they ever put a word on paper.

Or how about writing endings? Some people like endings that give answers or offer satisfying epiphanies. Others prefer to create endings that resonate with unanswered questions and poetic metaphors.

The act of writing is a process. Being a writer is also a process.

The act of writing is about exploring, discovering, revisioning and rewriting. Over and over and over again.

Being a writer is an ongoing endeavor. How you choose  to pursue that endeavor evolves as your life evolves — as you evolve as a person. Your own definitions of what it means to be a writer will change over time. You will go along for years dreaming of the day when you finally get published because on that day you will finally be a writer. But when that day comes, you realize that publication does not  a writer make. Once the glow of initial excitement wears off (you've called your friends, distributed your few contributor copies, read and re-read your published piece until your vision is blurring), the fact that you have been published seems rather a small thing, and you realize that it is only a tiny part of what being a writer is all about. Thus your definition changes. It will continue to change. It will never stop changing.

 

From today's NY Times, re:

 "The Land & Words of Mary Oliver, the Bard of Provincetown."

To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
                    —Mary Oliver

Our SF Fiction Teacher Talks About His New Novel

One of our fiction teachers in San Francisco, Josh Mohr, who has been busy the last several weeks promoting his new book, was interviewed in yesterday's SF Chronicle Datebook section, HERE.

I really like Josh a lot, but other than knowing he's been doing a great job of teaching here at the Writing Salon — and is a seriously up-and-coming writer — I admit to not knowing a whole lot else about him. So...it was quite fun to find out more in this interview.

Going Back 30 Years to CD Wright's Second Book

I noticed via a Twitter post from Poets & Writers magazine that took me HERE that CD Wright won a big poetry prize recently ($50,000). I looked at the list of her "recent" books, but the list only went back to 1991. Sheesh. The only book I have on my bookshelves by CD Wright was published in 1979, when she was 30 years old and I was a mere 27 and newly arrived, starry-eyed and sublimely naive, in San Francisco; yes, I have saved her thin little chapbook all these years, dragging it around from apartment to apartment, house to house. I have always liked its cover art, by someone named Alan Pogue. Three black and white photos of a rose and one of a man's legs from the knees down and the rose placed on one leg beneath his knee. Each photo framed in black, then a white space around that, then a red border enclosing the white space.

The book is titled "Terrorism," and was published by Lost Roads Press. Here's one of the shorter poems from that book; I have no time to type out a longer one:

TOURS

A girl on the stairs listens to her father
beat up her mother.
Doors bang.
She comes down in her nightgown.

The piano stands there in the dark
like a boy with an orchid.

She plays what she can
then she turns the lamp on.

Her mother's music is spread out
on the floor like brochures.

She hears her father
running through the leaves.

The last black key
she presses stays down, makes no sound
like someone putting their tongue where their tooth had been.

Reasons for Not Writing

Yesterday I REALLY felt like writing. I wanted to work on revising a personal essay that I began a couple of months ago. But I hadn't (and still haven't) finished updating the website, plus I'm contending with a new medical/health problem that required a visit to a doctor in San Anselmo yesterday, AND I had to run out and buy more honey for the SF classroom because the BRAND NEW, FULL CONTAINER of honey that I bought less than one week ago had mysteriously disappeared from its spot on the counter underneath the cupboard where the tea is kept.

Poof! Just like that. Honey vanished. There's no way it got used up that fast; a jar of honey usually lasts for months. So where the heck did it go? I looked in every cupboard, in the fridge, on all the coffee and end tables, in the bathroom (!), on the desk. I even walked upstairs and looked around there.

These are all good reasons (excuses?) for not writing, right? Or wrong?

Hmmm. I need to think about this question and then give myself an honest answer.

Just Now

"It is June. This is what I have decided to do with my life just now. I will do this work and lead this life, the one I am leading today. Each morning the blue clock and the crocheted bedspread, the table with the Phone, the books and magazines, the Times at the door."— Elizabeth Hardwick

It is almost the end of May. This is what I have decided to do with my life just now. I will do this work and lead this life, the one I am leading today. Each morning the half cup of dark French roast in an optimistically yellow cup, the ritual of opening emails, the devoted dog's eyes so liquid warm and brown, sunlight on the kitchen's retro red linoleum, the many rackets, rattles, voices and songs of San Francisco waking up outside my door.

I Would Rather Be...

I just twittered about how I'd rather be out walking in the sunshine than working on updating the Writing Salon website. If you have never updated a Word Press website, let me explain something: It looks like it would be just like doing regular word-processing, and yes, it's SIMILAR to that but not the same. Without going into a lot of technical detail, let me just say that what looks like it ought to take five minutes will most likely take 15 or 20 minutes. What looks like it might take half an hour will probably take an hour and a half. And so on and so forth.

Bottom line: It's tedious, it's boring, it's laborious, it makes your eyes burn and your back hurt and your head spin. I do it four times a year in a major way (with lots of ongoing tweaks in-between), and every time, I dread it, procrastinate, whine, get crabby, and feel under- or unappreciated. This is the kind of work that goes unpraised and unsung. I'm sure many of you can relate. In fact, I suspect that most jobs consist MOSTLY of just this: the stuff you do that nobody sees, knows about, understands or appreciates.

We can't expect to get any awards for doing the "invisible" grunge work, can we? Sad but true. I get more praises from taking ten minutes to put fresh gerbera daisies in a vase in the Writing Salon bathroom than I do for spending ten hours updating course descriptions and adding student testimonials to the website.

Life's funny that way. I know you know what I mean. But at least we're all in this together!

Teaching and Learning

Lots of people call The Writing Salon and say, with obvious fear, "I'm not a writer. I've never taken any creative writing classes. Can I still take a class there?"

They're imagining, I guess, or worrying... that all the people who take classes here are "experienced" or "professional" writers ("real" writers). They're afraid they'll look dumb and make fools of themselves.

This is nonsense, of course. For one thing, "experience" is relative; there's always going to be someone more experienced than you, no matter how experienced you are. And someone less experienced.

And  "professional" is just a label, a word. Technically, I suppose if you get one thing published, even if you don't get paid for it, you can call yourself a professional writer. Does that mean that professional writers are better writers than non-professionals? Maybe yes, maybe no. Either way, what difference does it make? If you want to write, then write. There are lots of reasons for wanting to write. Becoming a professional writer is only one of them.

All experienced and/or professional writers were beginners once.

I was watching an interview with Drew Carey the other day, and he made the comment that we're all in this world to either learn or teach. I liked that statement. It's delightful. Think about it. Then, if you still feel the urge, come take a class here. Chances are good that you'll do some learning AND some teaching. That's what usually happens in a good class. Everyone has something they can teach to others, and some things they can learn from others. This exchange is basic, human, and good. Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to lose, everything to gain.

The Truth Brings Home Memories...

Here's an excerpt from an essay by one of my favorite writers. I chose to post it today because I thought I had lost the book but then found it in a box in the garage, recently. I opened it up today and turned to one of the pages I earmarked a few years ago. I liked it then and I still like it now:

"The truth brings home memories that make her suffer. Yes, she's used to writing while weighed down by a heap of rubble, but she is afraid that touching so many memories may scorch her hands and eyes. She's also afraid her memories may hurt others in her life, whom she loves. Compared to telling the truth, inventing was like playing with a litter of kittens. Telling the truth is like moving through a pack of tigers. She reminds herself that to a writer everything is permitted so long as she writes—even freeing tigers and taking them out for a stroll. But in fact she doesn't believe writers have any special rights, any more than others do. So she faces a problem she cannot resolve. She doesn't want to be a shepherd of tigers.

Writers in a Recession

Here's one good thing about being a writer. It's cheap! All you need is what you've already got: pen and paper...or a typewriter. Or a computer. No expensive supplies or equipment are required, as is the case for, say, painters and photographers. You don't have to have a studio (or even a desk, for that matter -- not if you're a laptop junkie who likes to sit on the couch or in the bed or in a cafe while writing).

Sure, a writing studio or den would be nice (maybe even necessary if you REALLY do spend several hours a day at it, ie. you have reached the level of a working professional and have lots of file cabinets that you actually do use and books that you actually do refer to). But if you're a beginner or even if you have been writing for years, the "accoutrements" of writing can be minimal. Really minimal. Starkly so.

The Glamorous Life of a Writing Salon Mistress

Ah, doing the Writing Salon taxes. What fun THAT is. How I look forward to it every year. We're talking 10 years, now.

My taxes used to be so simple back when it was just me and my arty poverty. No expenses to keep track of. No itemized deductions. No tax forms to do for other people (teachers, etc.). Usually, I got a small refund.

Now it's year-long Quicken entries, categories, subcategories, stacks of receipts, stacks of invoices, printouts, scribbles, notes. None of this is my forte. But I have learned to do it.

Travel Writing Workshop

Here are some photos of cheerful students arriving for last Saturday's travel writing workshop in Berkeley, taught by Lisa Alpine (standing).

I wish I had a more colorful way to embroider this post...an anecdote about travel writing, perhaps. But to tell you the truth, I have a doozy of a cold. Phlegm rules. My literary capacities are tanking. I need a major stimulus package, one that is strong in both size and scope (a vat of chicken soup, more lemons and honey, way more TLC, echinacea, hot baths, sleep, quiet...)!   And I need it NOW.  :-)

Photos must suffice for today.

 

Updates from Teachers and Students?

A couple of weeks ago I added a page to the Writing Salon website (a link to which is in the sidebar, here: "Updates from Teachers and Students."

So far, no students have responded. I don't think it's because no one wants to. I just think probably not very many people have clicked on that link. Or if they have, they're too rushed and busy to take the time to stop and write about their own writing life (or at least they THINK they are too busy).

Or it could be that I need to work on improving the website design, try to find a better way to present this page so that more people would notice it and participate. Alas, my time allotted for website design creativity is minimal.

So...if you are reading this post, why not send something in right now?

Raw Writing from Robin Romm

I don't go to many literary readings because, contrary to what others imagine my "Writing Salon Mistress" lifestyle to be like (filled with sexy literary events, interactions with other writers, and of course plenty of time to sit alone in the cozy Writing Salon loft doing my own writing...), it is actually pretty much like any other small business owner's life. What I do on a daily basis is the same as what the owner of any "service business" does. I deal with ungodly amounts of paperwork, people management (clients, teachers), phone calls, emails, bills, marketing, advertising, PR, bills (oh, did I say that already?) . . . and let us not forget janitorial. Someone has to sweep, mop and clean the classroom toilets, right? Someone has to go buy more toilet paper, paper towels, sugar, coffee, half and half.

So no, I don't get out much to hobnob with the literati. But last night I did manage to make it out to hear Robin Romm read from her memoir, The Mercy Papers. Once there, I didn't socialize or network. I sat down and listened to Robin read, took a few photos, and then stood in a line in order to say a quick hello to Robin, who once taught here. Then without further ado, I left. It had been a long work day.

I'm glad I mustered the energy to go, though, because I admire Robin's work and want to support her. Part of what I admire about this book is its raw honesty. That, and Robin has a real way with words:

I hang up and my father walks around the corner.

"Who was that?"

"Barb," I say. "She says it's not the double fentanyl dose, it's that she gave Mom
a second Atavan before she left because Mom seemed anxious. She just forgot
to mention it." I know my eyes are wide and my nostrils wide open. I am about
 to go flinging out of my skin. This doesn't seem like a difficult thing to do, to
fling out of one's skin. Why people are not always flinging in and out of their
skin is a mystery to me! "Are you anxious? Because maybe she can bring over a
vat of morphine for the whole family!" My dad's face goes grim for a moment.
He seems disturbed.

Robin did a short Q & A session after she read. The writer/teacher in me perked up for that. I love hearing how a thing gets written. Fascinating, always and forever!

A Round Robin Reflection

Yesterday afternoon I met with my new group of Round Robin participants. This morning I woke up  remembering several things that I enjoyed about our get-together, but one moment in particular. That moment was when I asked everyone to take five minutes and find out more about the person sitting next to them. Seven pairs of people paused, turned (some eagerly, others with obvious trepidation but still willing) to face the stranger next to them...and in the span of second, the room went from awkward silence to an animated, chattering cacophony of human voices. 

It was unexpected music to my ears. Why unexpected, I don't know, because of course I have asked people to do this before, many times, in many classes. And yet it was. I guess I just forget, between times, how that sound FEELS. Such a warm, rich vibration filled the room. It's was as simple and as profound as that.

It made me think again about the value of community. People need other people. Writers need other writers. It's good to shut down our computers and get out of the house every now and again. Good to be the social creatures that we are . . . yes, even us solitary writer types.

Not that I'm not screaming PARTY! PARTY! PARTY!. The Round Robin is all about disciplining oneself to buckle down and get some writing done. I'm just saying that the sound of the mingling, intertwining, vibrant voices at yesterday's Round Robin meeting was a five-minute moment of perfection. For me.

Art for "The Rest of Us"

How do you get from truth to art? Step One: You start. Most people never start. Maybe it's the word "art." It intimidates. Art is supposedly such a lofty endeavor. Art is for the "artistes." Art isn't for the rest of us.

It should be. Children make art all the time. They take joy in it. They aren't intimidated by their imaginations. They know they have a right to them.

My Personal Writing Life - An Update

A few days ago, on the "News & Events" page of the Writing Salon website (see "Writing Salon Bulletin Board" in the right hand sidebar), I did a post that contained information about what several of our Writing Salon teachers have been up to in their "writing lives," which I left open to broad interpretation. I really enjoyed reading their responses, because even though they work here, I don't know about all the stuff they're doing that has nothing to do with the Writing Salon.

It occurred to me, as I was compiling their info. to put into the post, that I ought to include myself in the mix, since I too am a Writing Salon teacher. But I forgot to do that. Maybe I'll do it now, while I'm waiting for my cell phone to charge before heading out to deliver another huge stack of Writing Salon flyers to the distribution service.

What's up with my own personal "writing life?" Do I HAVE one? Does writing posts for this blog count? Or how about the posts I do for my personal blog? Well, they better count, because otherwise I have written very little in the last year or so. And I pretty much lost interest in trying to get published, long before that. I suppose some would say that I shouldn't admit that here. Publication (esp. PAID publication) is one mark of validation for a writer, and many see it as an essential validation. I used to see it that way, but I don't anymore. It's not essential. It's merely ONE mark of validation. One of many. As many as there are reasons for writing.

I know I can get published if I set my mind to it. When I was more into doing this, I published mostly poetry, personal essays, and erotica. And newspaper features. All you have to do is commit to that goal. It's not rocket science. You learn the ropes for submitting and then you submit. As many times as it takes until someone out there accepts your work. You can get published if you are a brilliant writer. You can also get published if you are a piece of shit writer. No shit. Look at what's out there in print. Whatever level you're at, you can get published if you commit to that goal. It's all about commitment.

I've found that as I get older, it takes very little to satisfy me when it comes to "getting my writing out into the world." I share work with my longtime writing group once every two weeks. I make copies and read it aloud. I find this to be a completely satisfying way to share my writing, in lieu of publishing. I also post occasional "pieces" in my blogs. But mostly I write for other reasons, reasons that have nothing to do with wanting to be published. The main reason is that it satisfies my bottomless urge to immerse myself in the creative process. I feel dead if I don't feel creative.

I've also found that after more than 35 years of channeling my creative urges primarily into writing, that  I want to branch out into other creative endeavors. Like photography, which I discovered almost a year ago and which I have been doing obsessively ever since. Do I want to be a professional photographer and make my living at it? Nope. Do I want others to see it? Sure, somewhat. That's why I put my photos up on Flickr. And why I post them sometimes in my personal blog, or hang them on my walls at home or at The Writing Salon.

I do think think that whatever creative endeavor you're doing at the moment will INFORM other creative endeavors. My years of creative writing undoubtedly now inform my photography, and my photography informs my writing. Lately I've been experimenting with mixing the two, in fact. Here's an example of that.

Okay, gotta go. As you know, I make my LIVING from running the Writing Salon, and it's time for me to get back to work. Spring Session classes are beginning this week, so I have more administrative work to do than usual. 

Behind the Scenes at the Writing Salon

A longtime Writing Salon student sent me this email yesterday:

Hi Jane:

This is not a message that you need to respond to anytime soon.

I was wondering if you have thought about expanding the Writing Salon concept to other cities?

The unique formula of WS doesn't really exist "Back East".

Best,

M.

Here is the (admittedly rushed) response that I sent to her. Be forewarned, it is unedited and candid:

Hi M,

Yes, I have thought of it. But I can barely find time to dress myself, as it is. This would be a project for a true business-person/entrepreneur of the highest order, whose first love IS business! Alas, that person is not moi! It's a huge, huge challenge for me to run a business....something I never dreamed I would do, never aspired to do, and, for the most part, find to be an incredibly stressful, drudgery-filled, highly unromantic hell-world filled with janitorial and administrative tortures. (Okay, I DO like some aspects of it, I admit. It feels worthwhile. Meaningful. Is related to art and creativity and spirituality. Allows me to decorate classrooms and occasionally arrange flowers for people to enjoy. Allows me to be out from under the thumb of an employer. I can make my own hours, though there are way too many of those per week. I do enjoy the CREATIVE, "director" parts, but there's so little time for being the creative director when you are beset and besieged by the grind of all the nitty gritty daily chores.)

My first love in life is whatever artistic pursuit I am most passionate about at any given time: writing...motherhood...decorating a room....teaching, sometimes....photography. All by myself. Alone. Peacefully reclusive but for limited and highly selective interactions with close friends/other creative souls. No clients, no employees, no "people management," no Open Houses, no website updates, no refund policy to enforce, no flyers to post, no broken coffee machines/chairs/cups/locks/, no 1099s to do for 35 teachers, no Quark to learn, no mailing list to update, blah blah blah.

Sure, I fantasize that if I knew how to expand a business to a bunch of cities, I could "retire" and let others run it. But I have not got a clue how I would ever even begin to do such a thing. I never even had a formal business plan. I don't know how to make even my SF business "sustainable!" I didn't even know what the phrase "sustainable business" meant, the first time I heard it. I have since learned that making the business "sustainable" would require writing everything down, in the most minute detail, so that others could do it FOR me. This sounds relatively simple, right?  But when I really started to try and do it, oh my god. It's a HUGE THING to do. Maybe in another lifetime?

And now...off to get my broken laptop repaired (crucial), buy chairs to replace two chairs that broke when people sat in them (a new phenomenon; I guess our chairs are wearing out!), buy snacks at Costco for the next session, plan for the Open House, take paper towels to the SF classroom (and oh yeah, clean it up, including getting down on my knees to clean the toilet), replace the low printer cartridge so I can make a few more hundred flyers, pay three teachers, etc. :-)

xoxo,
Jane (smiling because it was cool/flattering to get your email, even though it provoked mostly just this ranting poor-me response)

Can a School of Creative Writing Survive in a Depressed Economy?

Yesterday, as I was driving from Bernal Heights to the Haight (to deliver 1,220 Writing Salon flyers to the drop-off location for the distribution service), I was listening to Talk of the Nation on NPR. They were talking about what kinds of businesses flourished during the Great Depression. Anybody selling alcohol or tobacco did well. Ditto for cosmetics retailers. Women might not have been able to afford new dresses, but they managed to save enough pennies to replenish their lipstick supply.

I didn't hear the whole show, but it got me thinking about how I've been worrying that the Writing Salon might be adversely affected by the current sucky economy. Enrollments aren't that great right now. People are being more careful about spending. Will they perceive creative writing classes as a "luxury" item? Maybe. Yes, I'm sure that some will.

But I've decided to be optimistic and to have faith that there will still be enough people out there who understand that if something feeds your soul...or nourishes your creative spirit...or draws you into a supportive and interesting community of likeminded others...or simply ENTERTAINS you, it's not a luxury, it's a necessity, particularly when money is tight. (That's another industry that thrived during the Depression, btw -- the entertainment industry. Makes sense.)

I've had so many people tell me that their Writing Salon class was, for nine weeks or five weeks running, the highlight of every week, for them. They looked forward to it way more than to a movie or dinner out. And certainly more than if they had spent the money on, say, an impulse buy at Costco -- you know, like that fancy Braun coffeemaker that you didn't truly need. A good class can be such a satisfying combination of socializing and self-improvement!  You're doing something that feels meaningful, something more enriching than just going out and CONSUMING stuff stuff stuff. Things, things and more things. You're learning. You're growing. You're exploring.

What's more satisfying -- wandering around Macy's looking for a new scarf or hat or purse that you'll wear only a few times and then grow tired of, or learning skills that you can use for the rest of your life, skills that will allow you to spend thousands of hours CREATING and, in so doing, expanding and deepening your vision of the world...your LIFE?

So...I'll have faith that the Writing Salon will thrive, although of course not quite as much as the oil companies are thriving. Or the pharmaceutical industry is thriving. But don't get me going on THOSE topics! Right now I'd rather think about happy stuff..or at least spiritual stuff.  What matters. That which isn't driven by the insanity of corruption, stupidity and greed.

A New Post after More Than 8 Months of Silence

This isn't exactly going to be an elaborate post, but perhaps some of you will enjoy, if you missed it, this article that was recently in Salon.com. It's ostensbily about writers who, after graduating from MFA writing progams, stop writing and start freaking out because they've stopped writing. But it's really for anyone who is questioning WHY they write.

I think this is always an excellent question to ask yourself, and I think it's a good idea to ask it on a regular basis. It helps to know why you have chosen to follow this writerly path, even if all you know is "I have no choice; I can't NOT do it."

But there are also many other reasons to choose from, and you can sort through them at your leisure, accepting and rejecting . . . and also changing your mind again and again, as time goes by and you evolve as a person and therefore as a writer.

Strategies to Keep You Writing

 Most writers - not all, but most! - struggle to find the time, energy, and motivation to keep writing. Different people come up with different strategies to keep themselves going. Here are a few strategies (off the top of my head and in no particular order) that I have employed at one time or another:

1) created a special space or, if you will, a "room of my own" (or nook or desk or corner of the basement) for writing

2) read motivational books for writers

3) chose to work at jobs that required fewer hours and less effort, so that I had more time and energy left over for writing (or better yet, worked at jobs where I could sneak in some writing, i.e. when I worked as a clerk in a tiny bookstore that hardly ever had any customers

4) learned better time management skills (this first happened after I had a child and began to better understand the value of just one minute)

5) found a writing partner

6) joined a writer's group

7) submitted my work to publications and/or contests that had deadlines

8) got undergrad and graduate degrees in creative writing

9) took writing classes AFTER graduate school, and also hired a private tutor for a short time

10) established different life priorities, i.e. became more of a recluse and less of a social butterfly, or opted to write instead of watching more TV

11) started a personal blog site

12) participated in readings

13) hired a housecleaner

14) hired a professional organizer (see #4) 

 

 Things I've thought of doing and still might do at some point:

1) hire a writing coach

2) participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)

3) can't remember but I'm sure there's more, because there's always more...

That's seventeen strategies, and eleven of these strategies have one thing in common: They force you to meet a deadline. I was reminded of the colossal value of deadlines when I was reading the book, No Plot? No Problem!, by Chris Baty, founder of NaNoWriMo.

Says Baty: "A deadline is, simply put, optimism in its most ass-kicking form. It's a potent force that, when wielded with respect, will level any obstacle in its path. This is especially true when it comes to creative pursuits. . . . The problem, as those of us who are forever grumbling about our uncreative lives know, is that rock-solid, dream-fostering deadlines are hard to come by in the arts world. It's a sad irony that deadlines are given so freely at work (where we want them least), and are in such short supply in the extracurricular activities where we need them most.

Outside of writing classes, we never quite get the professional-grade push we need to tackle big, juicy creative projects. . ."

Baty is, of course, leading up to explaining why NaNoWriMo works so well. But I'm using his quote simply as a way to remind you that writing classes exist for many more reasons that just to help you learn craft. They also help to keep you writing!

So... don't stop now. Keep your momentum going (or GET it going!). A bunch of our summer session classes are starting between July 14th-19th, and most of them still have openings (if they don't, it will say so in bold red letters at the top of the course description). 

I'll Be Reading on Wednesday Night...You're Invited

Here's something I know about myself: I'm a good organizer when I put my mind to it, and one way I occasionally put that talent to good use is when I create an event — say, a Writing Salon party or reading. If it's a reading, I have great confidence in my ability to find and choose good writers who will read well written, entertaining, provocative, honest pieces of work, whatever the genre. (Don't ask me where this confidence comes from or whether I think I deserve to have it. All I know is, I do have it.)

Often I will give the readers my opinion as to what they should read; I might even request (or demand) a specific piece. I do this because I've found that many excellent writers fall apart when asked to read in public, and if left to their own devices will choose their most inferior work to share with others. Weird.

Or maybe not so weird. I have a theory about it. I think that most beginning to intermediate writers (and sometimes even more experienced ones) will opt to read work that they think is more "polished" and "literary." They overlook the work that, although it may still be raw and not yet shaped into its final, gem-like completion, is powerful BECAUSE it's so raw...so honest, so full of the writer's natural, unedited, authentic "voice" and story.

But if someone else organizes a reading and invites ME to read MY work, I forget all about my tidy theory. I panic because I realize that I have nothing whatsoever that's good enough to read, just as I have nothing at all to wear.  I force myself to go back through old, perpetually unfinished pieces of writing, in search of one that is somehow, at least, more polished and literary.

That's what I did, at first, in preparation for a reading that I'm participating in this Wednesday evening. Here's the press release info. about the reading:

Morbid Curiosity vs. Breast Cancer

Join conspirators to Morbid Curiosity magazine on Wednesday, June 27,  at 7 p.m. as they read new and previously published nonfiction to raise money for the fight against breast cancer. The reading will  take place at Borderlands Books, 866 Valencia Street, San Francisco.    More info:  415-824-8203.

Participants in the reading include Jane Underwood, founder of The  Writing Salon and a breast cancer survivor; Gravity Goldberg, co- editor of Instant City; Mary Ann Stein; and Jeff Dauber, who will  read a true story about breast cancer in men.

The evening will feature a raffle of Morbid Curiosity apparel, rare books, and more.

For the second year in a row, Morbid Curiosity editor Loren Rhoads is doing the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer -- 39.3 miles in a weekend --  to raise funding for research, screening, and treatment of victims of the disease right here in the Bay Area.

People who can't attend the event can still support the cause by going HERE. 

Anyway, after I chose a more polished and literary piece of writing (you know, brimming over with my prettiest, most lyrical language), I got an email from Loren telling me that she'd just re-read some of my earliest blog entries from back when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, and that she found them "powerful," and she liked how honest they were. I wrote back and said, "Which ones? Please tell me which ones, because I have no idea what to read!" (What I didn't say but thought was, What ever made me think I could call myself a writer? All these years, all this effort, and what do I have to show for it? NOTHING!) She wrote back and named three or four blog post titles that I never would have expected her to name because they were so unpolished and unliterary, so RAW. But yeah, I guess, honest.

Duh. So. . . today I'm going back and re-reading some of those posts, and I'll pick out a few, and that's what I'll read on Wednesday night. Raw blog entries about a raw time. Sound appealing? Ha ha. If so, please come to the reading.

Creativity Classes for Writers

I've never been a follower of any organized religion. In fact, I believe that organized religion is at the root of most of the world's idiocy and evil. If I were to say that I worshipped anything in this life, it would be the life force. It would be the spirituality of CREATION/CREATIVITY in all its manifestations, from writing to mothering, cooking to painting, musical composition to gardening, entrepreneurial endeavors to interior decorating, fundraising to fashion flair.

But these are just a few of the obvious examples. REALLY, creativity is about innovation in ANY thought or action, no? You can get creative with the way you wash the dishes or scratch the middle of your back or...um...have sex. Eroticism is one of the most wonderful arenas for creativity, IMHO!

Anyway, I've been thinking that I'd like to add a few non-writing classes to the Writing Salon curriculum, classes that will help people to explore creativity itself and then apply what they've learned to WHATEVER. That's why I asked Eric Maisel if he'd teach a creativity workshop this session. If people are interested and we get at least eight students, then I'll try to come up with additional variations on the same theme for future classes. Let's see, for example, how about a class on how to declutter your workspace, taught by a professional organizer?

What do YOU think?  Feel free to post a comment here. I'd love to hear other suggestions.

Here's a picture of Eric leading a Guided Writing Marathon not too long ago:

And here's one of folks hanging out afterward, having  what I like to think were fascinatingly creative conversations:

And here we have a shot of the "penny project" woman (center) who came to the writing marathon, and whose name I have, I'm sorry to say, forgotten.  I include this photo because it's a fun example of someone who had a kinda wonderfully wacky creative idea and ran with it:

Writing Salon Mistress Not Doing Much Musing!

As you can see, my posts to this blog have become few and far between. Most of my blogging energy is now going into my other, more personal blog site: My Great Breast Cancer Adventure.

I'll continue to post here occasionally, but most of my "writing related" energy, for the time being, is going into: 1) Running the Writing Salon, or 2) Doing my own writing, whether it be for my breast cancer blogsite or for other writing projects.

If you don't want to bother with constantly checking this blog to see if I've posted anything new (or if I've revved it up again in some fascinating new way - always a possibility!), the best thing to do is to subscribe to it (see top of lefthand sidebar). If you do that, you'll get an email notice whenever I've posted something new.

Not Writing

As is obvious, I haven't posted anything new to this blog in almost a week. What has happened? Why this lull?

The lull is the result of me feeling overwhelmed by work and by self-pity (such an attractive combo). I have no other excuses.

Oddly and wonderfully enough, this morning (at a moment when I was feeling especially, dully depressed - like a cardboard facsimile of a woman) I received this poem in an email from Writing Salon poetry teacher Julie Bruck:

Not Writing
 
A wasp rises to its papery
nest under the eaves
where it daubs
 
at the gray shape,
but seems unable
to enter its own house.
 
---Jane Kenyon

The poem arrived RIGHT after I had just sent the following email to my writing partner (Ms. K in NYC):

Hi,    

I'm breaking my own rules. Can't partner for a bit. Am mired in trying to do the summer scheduling, then the summer postcard, and the summer website, then the summer flyers. It's all just too much. I feel overwhelmed, depressed and flat —  from lack of estrogen, I suspect. Cardboard-like.    

xo,    
J.

Her response:

I'm disappointed! Maybe it's pitiful to say this, but it was the best part of my day—writing my thing and waiting for your reply. And I also felt more in touch with you and what's on your mind. But of course I understand.
K

My putrid little response to her response:

How about you keep sending yours, and I'll just do my best but might not be consistent...I hate feeling this way.

All of which inspired me to post this woe-is-me blog entry. You can read it and feel better about your own life. :-)

The Last Reading I Went To

I attended a reading at Borders bookstore on Union Square, the night before last. It was organized by Loren Rhoads, publisher of the magazine Morbid Curiosity.  The goal was to raise money ($1800) for the Avon Breast Cancer Walk, something Loren has committed to doing — partly, she says, in my honor (that is, in support of my recent/current  face-off with breast cancer). She'll be walking 39 miles in two days, folks, in July - and she's still in need of donations, which you can give via her personal Avon Walk link, above.

I am truly touched by this. In addition, Loren has said some very nice things about The Writing Salon in her blog. There were a couple of times—times when I was drowning in a vortex of fear and exhaustion— that her kind words lifted my spirits immeasurably.

Every one of the the six readers had (has) a connection to the Writing Salon. Four have taken my personal essay class and/or my Round Robin class — Ruthann Spike, Seth Flagsberg, Beth Touchette, and Mary Ann Stein — one, Rachel Trachten, has taken other Writing Salon classes, and one, David Booth, is a Writing Salon teacher (who has also participated in my Round Robin class). I had already heard all the pieces that they read on Tuesday night, which ranged from Seth's true story about defending an insane murderer (Seth works as a public defender on the Peninsula) to Mary Ann's also-true story about her harrowing experience managing a Halloween retail store, and I was completely happy to hear them all again.

Oh yeah, and one more thing. My Jack won a Morbid Curiosity tee shirt AND mug at the raffle Loren had going between readings. You can find more of her morbid shirts and mugs online.

Push Yourself

"Push yourself beyond when you think you are done with what you have to say. Go a little further. Sometimes when you think you are done, it is just the edge of beginning. Probably that's why we decide we're done. It's getting too scary. We are touching down onto something real. It is beyond the point when you think you are done that often something strong comes out." — Natalie Goldberg

Birds of a Feather

I know almost nothing about anything. But one thing I do know is that writing requires considerable self-discipline. Another thing I know is that it's a myth that writers are antisocial misfits who, by definition, must live as lonely hermits in order to live as writers. I am reminded of this every time I begin to teach another Round Robin class.

Writers need community just like anybody else. It's not a sign of weakness to join a writing group or to take a writing class because you want to hang out with other writers and talk shop. It's not a sign of weakness to need other people's support, encouragement, advice, suggestions, and camraderie on a regular basis. 

People often call to sign up for Writing Salon classes and sheepishly "confess" that they need to take writing classes because without them they don't write as much or as regularly. But they perceive the classes as crutches, and they're imagining that someday they'll be able to write without the aid of a group of peers and/or a teacher. Well sure, maybe. But then again, maybe not. Maybe they'll NEVER enjoy writing in a vacuum. Maybe they'll always need to  seek out the community of other writers.

What the heck. If taking a class or being part of a writing group gives you the structure, inspiration, kick in the ass or pleasure that you need and/or want, fabulous! Toss out the myth.

It Bears Repeating

It seems I continue to be more interested in my health issues than in my writing. I have no problem blathering on and on about the ups and downs of having breast cancer and trying to treat it "alternatively," but when it comes to writing about writing. . . I dunno. Muteness seems to have set in.

But I'll try to break my lamentable silence. Here's my two cents worth for today: You can learn what you have to say IN THE ACT OF SAYING IT. I have stressed this to my students a million times, and to myself a billion times. Still it bears repeating. If you walk (or sit or mope) around all day trying to figure out what you want to write, you'll never write. Thinking about writing does not lead to writing. WRITING leads to writing. You put your reluctant fingers on the keyboard, and you start hitting letters that turn into words and words that turn into sentences and sentences that turn into paragraphs, and so on and so forth, as far as you want to take it.

We all need to have more faith in our fingers. They are connected to more than our palms, which are connected to more than our wrists, etcetera, etcetera.