Multiplicity, Thy Name Is Writer

 

I did one of my rare teaching gigs last month. I taught a class called Putting the Thrill in Thrillers. In it, I make time for the class to do a writing exercise. They're given characters, setting and a plot (one of the Seven) and told off you go. It was a successful endeavor, the class scribbling madly for ten minutes, and when put on the spot, many shared their first lines. I was quite pleased and proud, because it's a difficult exercise, and they did quite well.

After, I was doing a stint at mentoring and suggested that the writer take her flash piece and expand on it because it truly had legs. I was astounded when the woman dismissed my advice, saying, "I already have a voice in my head. I can't add another."

Astounded, because I can't imagine not having a bloody chorus of characters screaming from the recesses of my gray matter, all day, every day. Right now I'm writing two novels and a short story, plus socking away ideas and building Scrivener projects for the billions of other ideas that worm their way through.

I'm used to juggling the voices, to telling one to shut up so I can listen to another. It sounds downright schizophrenic, and it is, to a certain extent. You know the dark joke I always tell - writing is simply controlled psychosis. Successful writing is being paid for that controlled psychosis.

But in all seriousness, I do remember back to the time when the idea of doing more than one thing at a time was frightening. I was working on the first Taylor novel, and the head of my critique group kept pestering me to try writing a short story. I had that same deer in the headlights reaction - I can't. I can't deviate from my Novel to try something else. I'll get pulled off track. I'll fall into the abyss and never return. I'll never finish anything. The men will come to my house and find me quivering in a corner, a trail of half eaten sandwiches strewn throughout the house.

But all that is simply resistance, rearing its ugly head. Of COURSE you can work on more than one thing at a time. And if you want to be a successful author, you'll have to master that skill. There is a constant juggling act going on in most authors' lives. Writing one book, editing another, promoting a third - that's the standard for anyone on a one-a-year schedule. Multiply that by two for two-a-years, etc. Not only writing your books, but being asked to contribute to anthologies. Blogging and facebooking and twittering and newslettering. All of this takes time, and a concerted effort to stay on track.

We are all getting Ph.D's in multiplicity. It's the nature of the beast. So do think about adding in one or two of the other voices in your head, allowing yourself fifteen minutes a day to explore what they have to say. It's excellent training for later, when you're answering to multiple people, for multiple projects. If you want to succeed at this business, you've got to learn how to juggle. 

Open Thread: Taking Suggestions Regarding My Bulging Office

It's that time of year. School's back in session, and despite being absent from the frivolities for many years, September always feels like the time for new beginnings. While I was on vacation, I did some planning for the year ahead, and a lot of thinking about the current state of my creative affairs, and came to a somewhat DUH conclusion - I have a great office, which I don't use because it's not set up properly. Instead, I work pretty much anywhere I can that's NOT my office.

This must change.

So here's my current dilemma. I am out of space. Every nook and cranny is crammed full. Half used notebooks and legal pads, foreign editions, multiple boxes full of old manuscripts. Notecards and birthday cards and art that hasn't been rehung since I painted. Oodles of books, but also just oodles of stuff. On the surface it sort of looks clean and organized, but it's not. It's malingering quietly out of sight. And sending off some very uncreative vibes. The child in me recognizes that like unloved toys, unloved and abandoned accoutrements are very sad. But something must be done if I'm going to move back into my space.

I hate to throw away decent things - but it's clear from the detritus that I'm not using 80% of what's in here. I know the art of decluttering - take everything out and only replace what I use. So what do I do with what's left over?

Any ideas? Places I can donate to? I'm all ears.

Be Revolutionary

 

 

Stewart Copeland, the drummer from The Police, talks about creativity, being revolutionary, conflict and the artist's vision. This is a must-watch for all creatives. I've watched this three times and pulled something new each time. Pay special attention to Copeland's thesis of being revolutionary. I truly believe that's how we differentiate ourselves, a willingness to take chances, to disregard what's safe in favor of what's unique. I also enjoyed his ideas on what it's like to be the "beans in the can", on display for all to see while depending on yourself to create your path. Superb viewing. Enjoy!

Also, Copeland's book is called STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN: A Life With The Police, Polo and Pygmies. Check it out.

 

Best Links of the Week

Avoid the Trap of "Productivity Porn" Oh, I am so guilty of this. Great advice. Sometimes just being aware of a bad habit in order to break it.

Crimes Against Woodworking | Blog | Smart Bitches, Trashy Books | OK - ROFLMAO. It's LAVE, not LATHE. Find out the difference here.

What Moment Will Change Your Life? I love this - she put aside her own worries for a moment to help someone else, and it changed both their lives. A lovely inspirational story for your Sunday.

Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when you grow up. ~Pablo Picasso

An Incomplete Guide to Not Creeping | John Scalzi | Great conference etiquette mandates. I'm always shocked by how people invade your space and don't take the hint if you're clearly uncomfortable. And really, sexual innuendo with women you've just met is a serious no-no. Espceially the married ones. It's just plain creepy, and not gentlemanly.