Category Archives: To Think About

A Muffled Drum Roll From Me, For Me, Then a Crescendo of Happiness

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cupstacking2I feel depressed when I read those notices in newspapers or chat with others about people’s multiple accomplishments. Compared to me, everyone in the world seems to be a raving success. They publish several novels a year, start businesses, win awards, are asked to speak at conferences and, even more, get paid for it!  They run marathons in their spare time, make the “top ten” list in whatever subject interests them, say cooking or astronomy or cup-stacking competitions.  Even worse, they write, call, email and blog about what they’ve done, to the point I want to avoid meetings and acquaintances, reading my mail, or communicating in any fashion, even smoke signals.

Maybe you’re challenged or energized by such information. Not I. When I was a kid, I fell for the Great American Dream. Anyone can be president or a millionaire, if you just try hard enough. I’ve learned that’s not true. Take my primary interest: writing books. UNESCO reports more than 300,000 books were published in the US in 2013 (fiction and nonfiction, as well as new editions of old books). I can’t name 3000 people I know, let alone 300,000 or the books they might read. I may have owned 10,000 books myself over the course of my life. Realistically, the odds of me or anyone selling tons of books are miniscule. In the realm of fantasy, everyone’s doing it.

I have a friend with an even more aggravated sense of inferiority than mine. Take her to a group in which friends mention their thriving children or a promotion on the job, and she refuses to see them again. I try to tell myself to be realistic, my life is going fine. But the sounds of all these folks beating their own drums and tooting their own horns makes me deaf and discouraged.

A change of attitude seems required. I’ve heard about two studies on the secret to happiness. One claims that people who are mildly self-delusional are happier than realists. The young woman sashaying across the club floor thinking all eyes are on her is more contented than the model who constantly seeks flaws in her appearance. So, for example, if I decide I’ve written the very best novel in the world, I’m better off believing that than comparing my work to National Book Award winners.

The second study says those with low expectations are happier than individuals with high expectations. That means my approach to getting published years ago, when I assumed I’d eventually win the Noble Prize for Literature, was almost guaranteed to make me frustrated and discouraged; whereas a writer who never expected any work to appear in print is overjoyed to produce a chap book of her own poems.

Since today, the day I’m writing this, heralds a new year, here are my resolutions:

* Talk myself into mild self-delusion, that I am, in fact, climbing mountains, achieving wonders, and becoming the best (if not best-selling) author in the world;

* Set my expectations in every arena very low. Rather than striving to lose 30 pounds, shoot for one. No more trying to write every day; a couple of times a week is fine. Forget hoping for world peace, a pleasant “good morning” from a neighbor’s fine.

Then I’ll be out bragging, tooting my own horn, and endlessly broadcasting on FaceBook, Twitter, Pinterest, whatever, with the best of ‘em.

Jump-Starting Mental Efforts and Creativity through Physical Exercise—Does It Really Work?

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spinningSeveral times a week, I head to the gym for bicycle spinning class. At eight in the morning, I’m not hepped up about vigorous exercise, but after participating for years in this stationary bike effort, I’m happy to do so, particularly if I’m wrestling with a knotty problem in my writing.

Recently I mounted the machine with two major issues nagging me. One was a cliff-hanger for my work-in-progress (working title, Never Retreat) when the heroine is separated from the hero during a flash flood and comes to realize her deep feelings for him. The other was a series of critical scenes and character development to strengthen conflict for a mainstream novel. I walked out an hour later, well on my way to solving both.

How did I accomplish this while supposedly pedaling my heart out? I’ve found that mental activity can result from physical, especially if the exercise is routine, meaning I don’t have to be alert to oncoming cars or snapping dogs. Imagination blossoms and ideas flow, free from my internal critic. I suspect I enter an “alpha state,” a condition that fosters creativity and ideas. This also can occur when I take walks. (See my essay in the Christian Science Monitor: http://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/The-Home-Forum/2009/0306/p19s05-hfes.html) Some people claim to unlock their minds through yoga or meditation, mental puzzles, playing golf.

On its own, the attribute of creativity is over-rated. It’s essential to producing new works of art, raising a child, cooking an excellent and unusual meal, discovering new paths in science, taking photos, or inventing a computer game or machine. But it’s useless without the additional qualities of determination and hard work, native talents, education, and luck.

Still it’s useful to know how to jumpstart your brain out of frustrating, fruitless ruts. If you’re struggling with a personal problem, a conundrum at work, or an approaching challenge at work or school, rather than pushing yourself harder, harder, harder, try taking an exercise break. You may find yourself able to return refreshed and productive.

 

THE ADVANTAGES OF PROCRASTINATION, HOW IT’S HELPFUL, FULFILLING, STRESS-REDUCING, ESPECIALLY DURING THE HOLS

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Procrastination-procrastination-263982_750_644With the approach of the year’s end and a new one beginning, many of us frantically compile lists of things to finish up or initiate. Mine include holiday gift-buying, card-sending, planning a family dinner, household chores to complete before the arrival of guests, places to go and people to meet, not to mention activities related to writing and marketing. It’s enough to make me long to immediately take a nap. Or, if I actually try to accomplish everything, by Christmas Eve at 2 a.m., I’m cranky, exhausted, and depleted of cheer.

However, a secret has been revealed to me, through my own neglect. If you wait long enough, many of those little notes to yourself are out of date and you can throw them away! This won’t work with responsibilities like filing your taxes, although you can even delay on that particular task from year to year. This is known as “procrastination.”

This certainly alleviates some of the stress we place on ourselves to achieve each and every item on our to-do lists. Example: I’ve had a stack of bricks in my backyard for about a year, pried out by a landscaper from where they’d slowly been inundated by mud. On my list went “move bricks” for quite some time. Never to be accomplished. Until my grandkids wanted some chores for which they could earn money. Presto! They did the work, and I crossed it off the list.

Another advantage: you’re able to ponder an action from multiple perspectives, gain the advice of others, maybe even outlast a trend. When I had a house I wanted to refinance, I delayed and delayed. Over the years, the interest rate plunged steadily downward to my benefit.

In terms of social interactions, I recently postponed for weeks contacting some friends I hadn’t see in a while. Finally, they reached out to me with invitations to their homes. What a great way to keep in touch without having to put forth effort or adding another bunch of chores to be completed.

Physical chores are especially suitable for procrastination, since I don’t enjoy doing them. Perhaps you, like me, have put off making a bed. By night time, it’s no longer needed. Ditto swiping out kitchen cupboards with any sort of regularity

This holiday season, try a little procrastination yourself. You may find you’re happier, and so are the folks around you.

IF IT LOOKS LIKE A DUCK AND IT WADDLES LIKE A DUCK AND IT QUACKS LIKE A DUCK, WHAT IS IT? LITERATURE AND TODAY’S BOOK WORLD

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Symbols in fluxAre you a cowboy? A spy? A sexy lover? A  child at heart? Somewhat intellectual? If so, you probably read in a genre like children’s books, westerns, mystery, romance, or literary.  Publishing is defined by specialized categories of book, which also identify readers by age, gender, interest, locale. These seem to become more targeted by the week. The process helps greatly in marketing books to try to insure readership.

No longer are these groups simple and innocuous. Sub-genre succeeds sub-genre. I’m not sure I even know what some of these mean. For example, urban romance fantasy. Is this several dragons who live in a large city off-world and become enamored of one another, or an historical period piece in which Cleopatra and her lover Marie Antoinette battle the evils of Czar Peter the Great in St. Petersburg? Or both?

My publications are classified as clean or sweet romance. Devoid of overt sex, this category can incorporate a great deal of passion, depending upon author, plot, and publisher. I prefer to think of them as “women’s fiction,” a bit closer to my approach, because the journey of the main characters is to succeed in meeting life’s challenges, not simply discover love. Of course, being a writer and always ready to split hairs or argue until I’m blue in the face, I don’t like to assign labels at all.

Which brings me to authors who defy categorization and leap-frog genres: Michael Chabon, Margaret Atwood, Doris Lessing, P.D. James, among others. I’m sure their publishers would prefer they didn’t. It makes marketing their work more difficult. But these are big names, and they can do as they please. Successfully.

A  challenge for newbies, especially in more structured, dare I say rigid?, genres. Publishers, bloggers, book sellers want to know the type in a 30-second elevator speech. For example, when I sent my first novel to an online reviewer, she declined it despite its HEA ending because she felt it was chick lit.

But this blog ISN’T about genres. It’s about excellent writing. Even if a book is a particular genre (i.e., waddles like a duck), I think good writing should be possible in any genre. I’ve just finished a book that explained an area of writing that I’ve never heeded. When discussions centered on symbolism, I poo-pooed the theories. Who knew or cared if a rope meant characters were tied together, or if waves crashing on a cliff substituted for sexual fervor?

A major shift in my attitude occurred with “How to Read Literature Like a Professor.” Author Thomas Foster hand-led me through weather, violence, flying, seasons, and other topics serving as symbols for life’s issues, such as love, freedom, and depression. Giving examples from classics and popular books, he showed how use of symbolism gives added depth and enhances the reader’s understanding and appreciation.

Hmmm. As I thought back over my own work, I realized it contains a fair number of sequences that can serve as symbols. A storm in the middle of a confrontational camping trip. Seeking shelter with a potential partner during a snowstorm. A wildfire engulfing adversaries. Did I intend these as symbols? Not at the time, but unconsciously I must have absorbed cultural cues. Henceforward, I’ll incorporate these deliberately. I’ll have more fun, and perhaps my readers will, too.

So if you read about a telephone in my future writings, don’t assume it’s just a chat. It might represent confusion, ambition, or, who knows?, sex. A duck can always morph into a swan

THE MANY USES AND MEANINGS OF WOOL—A PUBLISHING PHENOMENON

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sheepMy awareness of the publication of a piece entitled “Wool” grew bit by bit. I started seeing references to it in the news, on book blogs and sites, eventually via word-of-mouth. I heard it was a self-published genre (sci fi) success and without taking time to sample it, I pooh-poohed exclamations about its excellence. I knew from reality TV, fashion fads, and politics that popularity rarely equates with quality.

Then a friend of mine with terminal cancer mentioned it. He’d been trying desperately for decades to get his work in print and wondered if he could beat his life’s deadline by going the self-publishing route. After researching “Wool’s” progression a bit, I learned author Hugh Howey had written the first section as a short story, and reader response motivated him to continue with four more sections. It became a huge best-seller and found a mainstream publisher. Still not convinced, I purchased the first section of the novel.

“Holston,” part one, deals with a law enforcement officer who rejects his post and his society (located in an immense underground silo) to commit suicide by venturing into the toxic outside. Say what? A protagonist who’s killed off in the beginning of the plot? Surely a violation of one of the canons of writing a novel. Plus the title made almost no sense. The major mention of “wool” was its use as a material to clean screens.

What kept me reading the entire work? The initial section left enough puzzling points, raised sufficient intriguing questions that I was drawn in and hoped the rest of the novel would address these. Another strong reason—Howey’s world was absolutely real from the get-go. In fact throughout the 500+ pages, I never forgot the majority of the settings were deep underground; and I got claustrophobic!

Now, weeks after completing the book, it dogs me. Howey’s writing style isn’t especially compelling, although it’s solid. The plot and characters aren’t peculiar or unique. Yet I find myself thinking of it often—how it captures personalities, contains compelling conflicts, moves faster and faster through crises. And I realize I’m using “Wool” as a kind of primer for novel-writing.

As time passes, I also find many instances in which wool can apply to the novel.  Examples: pulling the wool over your eyes. . .dyed in the wool. . .wrapped in wool. . .woolgathering. . .cotton wool. Then add in terms associated with sheep (sheep to a slaughter, stupid as a sheep, wolf in sheep’s clothing) and knitting-related terms. The depth of the book expanded exponentially, its pertinence to contemporary life became obvious.

Serendipity occurs frequently to me when I discover books that seem to illustrate or complement other books I’ve read, I’m now scrutinizing “How to Read Literature Like a Professor” (Thomas Foster, 2014) with its wealth of information about symbolism and irony in fiction. I’m again returning over and over to “Wool” for examples to show me about incorporating a new, perhaps deeper level into my writing.

So hooray for “Wool.” No alien monsters. No mystifying technology or eons-away science. At the conclusion of the book, we’re left musing over ethical dilemmas and diverse characters, all in a fast-paced plot. We confront personalities familiar during our own times, perhaps even the faces we see in mirrors.