No, No and No

Well, I see again that I have let my blog posting languish. This is partly out of embarrassment, partly out of mental exhaustion.

No, I did not turn in the manuscript on the February 9, deadline, now some 10 days ago (really? Can it really already be 10 days? Alas...)

No, I did not turn in the 38 chapters of manuscript on the adjusted deadline of February 11. I turned in 34.

I did, however, assure my editor that I was confident that I would finish the manuscript by Mar 1. Ha. I am a slow learner. God has a plan here, and I don't have a clue what it is, but it sure doesn't seem to be "Help Karen meet her deadline." (I think it's something more along the lines of "Give Karen the opportunity to trust Me no matter what happens.") The very day after I turned in the 34 chapters, I went into blank mind mode. I could call it writer's block, but I don't think it is. Any more than the first 8 months of a pregnancy are "mother's block." Or maybe "baby's block". When the oranges are tiny and green early in the season is that "orange tree block"? No it's just a normal function of growth.

I have learned that in the cycle of cell division, by far the longest period of time is spent resting. Or at least, not dividing. Instead it is preparing to divide as it carries out its normal cellular functions, growing in size, reading its DNA, doing whatever it's supposed to be doing in the body. The time it actually spends in division is very brief.

So it is with me. In the creative process, I do spend more time thinking or even just being blank and trying to think than I do writing. Two days of nothing, trying to write, trying to think, trying to make something come, put two thoughts together, find the next portion... getting nowhere, getting distracted, getting frustrated and anxious when it starts to go on too long (although how I would know what "too long" is, is beyond me.). And then after all that, the next thing I know I find myself writing something, words are coming together to make sentences, I start seeing how the various elements can fit, this one here, that one there, this other one next... Sometimes within an hour it's all come out. But I can't force it. I have to wait for it.

So that's the process, and I'm getting used to it, and I know that I don't know what God's plan for my life looks like and that I have to accept His timing without complaint, frustration, anxiety... But...I wasn't expecting to have any more of those periods when I turned in the 34 chapters. So it was quite dismaying to promptly run into a 3-day incubation period. Then, having resolved that, to run into a 2 day incubation...

Right now, a week and a day after turning in the first portion of the manuscript I've got two chapters done and three close to done. And looking at what I have left, which is chaotic and incoherent (the living-color results of what happens when I just sit down and force myself to write) I suspect there are going to be a few more simmer periods before all that is done.

So, No, I no longer have confidence I will finish this thing by Mar 1. I have given up trying to predict. It will be done when God has decreed it to be done, and that's all I can do.

~~~

Kate Elliott's Take on Burnout

Well, I'm pretty tired tonight. I probably should do blogs in the morning when I'm not tired, except that's when I'm supposed to be writing novels.

Anyway, here's another view on burnout/creative exhaustion by SF/F writer Kate Elliott who, according to the bio on the site, "is the author of Spirit Gate, coming in October 2006. She has also written Crown of Stars, a seven volume fantasy novel starting with King’s Dragon, and The Novels of the Jaran, and has co-authored The Golden Key with Melanie Rawn and Jennifer Roberson. In her real life as Alis Rasmussen, she is particularly interested in history, archaeology, religion, exercise, and the joy of twins and schnauzers. Or you could talk to her about leyning. She lives in Hawaii."

I've read Jaran, years and years ago, the first in her Novels of the Jaran. I remember scenes from it, but no context and recall it in a favorable light, but after that, memory fails me.

Anyway, she has some interesting things to say about Burnout and Creative Exhaustion, which I found both encouraging and supportive of my own situation -- in that I need to be careful and not get on that "I'm going to FORCE myself to write no matter what." (And I could have today, but given that I'm simmering a new version of Chapter 6, I didn't)

I like what she has to say about writing versus creating: "An experienced writer possesses the skill set to produce words, but the ability to CREATE is not always present."

I also liked her connection between real world exhaustion and creative exhaustion, particularly in the realm of real world responsibilities eating up creative energy.

Much food for thought, for me anyway.

Here's the link: http://www.deepgenre.com/wordpress/kateelliott/craft/burnout

~~~

Orb Spider Web

Here's a shot of an orb spider and his (her?) web. It was spun on the clothesline one night last week. I think these are the coolest things. I love when I find one. And I love that I could actually take a picture of it that turned out good enough you can tell what it is! (If you click on it, you'll get a bigger, slightly clearer picture)

The funny thing is that I was talking about burnout to one of my friends last week, likening it to a spider spinning his web out of his very guts. When the web is spun, the spider is literally empty. Then the next morning, I found this web. I know writing has been compared by others to web spinning, both in the complexity of the stories, and in the fact that you use something inside yourself to do it. And when you are done, you can be emotionally, mentally and even physically "empty."

Sometimes the web doesn't work out for whatever reason (eg, it was constructed in the wrong place) and has to be redone. To really bring home the point, right after I took this shot, Quigley ran under the web and tore free on of the lines that anchored it to the ground, effectively destroying the whole thing. It was a little bit shocking to me that it could have so easily and casually been destroyed.

But that is the world we live in. And it's cool to go from that to the fact that what we have in Christ is not going to be destroyed. The anchor line there is secure and nothing will ever be able to destroy it.

This has been a very cool day, literally (it's rained all day) and figuratively. I had a lot of good reminders that none of this is up to me. God is the one who does the promoting, He's the one who's going to do the tasks He's assigned me, and I should slamming all my cares, all of them, every-stinkin'-one ALL of them on Him. And then stop fretting about them, stop thinking about them.

1 Peter 5:6,7 Humble yourself therefore under the mighty hand of God that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting ALL your anxiety upon Him, because He cares for you.

In last Friday's lesson, guest pastor Rory Clark pointed out that the English "He cares for you" does not do justice to the real meaning in the Greek idiom. A better translation would be, "He considers all your problems to be His responsibility." Pastor Rory had us personalize it:

"God considers (insert your problem here) to be His responsibility. "

Thus...

God considers Quigley's dietary indiscretions to be His responsibility.

God considers the fate of my books to be His responsibility.

God considers the writing of Enclave to be His responsibility.

How cool is that? Speaking of Enclave, I did email my editor and she called me this morning. We had a great talk, and I am so blessed to be writing for Bethany House. Sometimes I can't believe what a great deal I've got going here! Anyway, I have a new deadline, Nov 30. And I have a fair degree of confidence now that this book is going to work out okay. Already I'm seeing great improvement, and more and more ideas are rolling in, more and more connections are being made. What I want now is to find the elements that are going to cause me to fall in love with this book. With Arena it didn't happen until one of the later drafts (maybe the next to last one), and really I've only just begun to work on Enclave, despite the fact I've been "working" on it for a year.

~~~~

Burnout or Creative Exhaustion?

Last week something happened that sent my writing attitude into a tailspin for a day or so. Afterward I woke up still not wanting to write and thinking about burnout, which was one of the things first mentioned in the conference lessons. (You get burned out when you don't see to your own vineyard enough, or as one pastor liked to say, "Put on your own air mask first, before trying to help others put on theirs!")

I don't think that was an accident. I remembered some of the things I'd read about it, and more than that I recalled the experience of another novelist, a woman who had been writing something like two books a year for ten years. One day she just could not go on. Could not write a word. No matter how she tried. So she took a year off.

It occurred to me that that was very much like what I'd experienced after I turned in the first draft of The Enclave last June. In fact, it wasn't just that I couldn't write anything, I couldn't much do anything else, either. There was all that sitting around, staring out of windows, and then it took me a long time before I could even bear to think about working on this book again. Even though I got the editor feedback in the early part of July, it wasn't for another two weeks or so that I could make myself get back to it.

Of course there were lots of other things going on around that time, but it seemed odd that I was literally unable to make myself get to it.

So recalling all of that, last week I decided to research burnout. What I learned was interesting. The Internet article, "Preventing Burnout," describes it as

"a state of emotional and physical exhaustion caused by excessive and prolonged stress. It can occur when you feel overwhelmed and unable to meet constant demands. As the stress continues, you begin to lose the interest or motivation that led you to take on a certain role in the first place. Burnout reduces your productivity and saps your energy, leaving you feeling increasingly hopeless, powerless, cynical and resentful."

"Burnout and stress are not the same. Stress, by and large, involves too much: too many pressures that demand too much of you physically and pyschologically. Stressrd people can still imagine though, that if they can just get everything under control they'll feel better.

"Burnout, on the other hand, is about not enough. Being burned out means feeling empty, devoid of motivation, and beyond caring. People experiencing burnout often don't see any hope of positive change in their situations. If excessive stress is like drowning in responsiblitites, burnout is being all dried up."

For a good part of the summer, that's how I felt: dried up, especially when it came to words.

The articles said that burnout is a gradual process, and that recovering from it takes almost as long as its development. Symptoms include cognitive and motor difficulties including lack of concentration and restlessness, and turning to escapist behaviors such as... shopping binges (hmm... like buying rubber stamps?? thinking about buying stamps? making cards?) to escape your feelings of reduced personal accomplishment. (resulting perhaps from your actual reduced accomplishment since you're spending all your time thinking about buying stamps. ) Because another of the symptoms is a definitely a reduction of productivity.

For awhile I thought maybe I was close to being burned out. But I don't feel hopeless, and I don't feel cynical, and my motivation is returning. I think creatively I was just exhausted and am probably still depleated.

Last Thursday, Friday and Saturday I got in some good work on Enclave. ...but it was slow, exacting, mentally taxing work. I revised chapter 4, paying special attention to motivations of the principle characters (not just the pov), and to the concepts of scene and sequel. What was the story goal? What was the scene goal? Does the conflict in the scene actually reflect these goals? What is his thought process in this sequel?

I ran into lots of inconsistencies and areas I'd not considered before. Things like having my hero assume things that, now that I thought it through he would never assume given everything he'd seen to that point. Which meant I had to change the thinking and the decisions and the conversation and the scene goal... But the changes resulted in definite improvements.

The next day I did the same for chapter 5, except that some of the changes that came out of that work sent me back to 4 for another pass. Then back to 5 for its second pass, more cutting (there's been lots of that) more focus, more thinking. Sometimes I'd get to the point where I just could not think anymore. I couldn't hold two thoughts together in my mind. Couldn't generate any thoughts at all relative to the issue, subject or problem. If I tried, everything snarled and ended in blankness. So I had to get up and do something else.

And I'm not getting on my case for not going back to it real fast, either, if I don't feel like it. (Or just get distracted -- I figure I need the distraction) I'm also trying to just focus on today's work and not hurry myself through it. In the past I've not wanted to do the kind of slow, close work I've been doing because "there wasn't time." Well, there still might not be time, but it's what the work needs. And I think it's what I need, too.

However, given the scope of what needs to be done and thought through and worked out on this manuscript, I seriously doubt I'll be able to do it all in the month I have remaining. Of course, God could always work a miracle... But I probably better let my editor know.

~~~

Blankness

It's been almost a month since I sent The Enclave in to Bethany House and I've been bemused by the persistent blankness I'm continuing to experience when it comes to the written word. I wasn't surprised I'd have that during the first week afterward. Or even the second, but I am surprised it's persisted all the way into the fourth. I can talk all right, but when it comes to writing -- answering emails, writing a newsletter, updating my website, writing blog posts, even writing in my personal journal -- I'm still mostly coming up dry.

Part of that has to do with the routine we've established with Quigley, where I bring him in after Bible Class around six and then we take him for a walk or to the dog park. I used to go into the office afterward and write a post, but this past almost month, I've been too tired. Or we've gotten back so late, that it's time to get ready for bed (on account of the heat and having to wait until it's cool enough to walk) (cool enough being 100 degrees, or mid 90s).

I check email, see I have a ton of reader letters to answer, but can't seem to muster any gumption to start answering. Not even personal emails to friends. I've been doing other things, as I mentioned, but I really thought that would come to an end before I got the editor feedback on Enclave. Obviously it hasn't.

My editor wants the final draft by Oct 1. Since I'd been thinking I'd have til Nov 1 (not because anyone said I would, just because I think that's when I was supposed to have turned in Return of the Guardian King) and also that I just might be able to pull that off, it was a bit of a shock to have the deadline be a month earlier. I'm pretty sure I could email her about that, and maybe I should. Maybe the whole psychological game of setting a deadline earlier than I think I can manage, is just a sham and has no effect at all on my actual rate of progress, and only sets up another opportunity to fail.

If I was doing something that involved a clear direction and continuous actual things to do, it would be easy. But when it comes to those sections that are wrong, and you have to come up with something else that actually works, but you have no idea what it is... those parts usually take days of working at, thinking about, staring out the windows and so forth. There's no way to predict how many of those there'll be or how long they will last.

I really don't like writing to a deadline. I don't think it helps me at all, and I have been thinking more and more that perhaps I'm just not suited to the whole hurry up and turn it out climate of current day publishing. It still takes me as long as it ever did to write a book, and while I might actually turn things in sooner than I otherwise would have, I have the sneaking suspicion that it's at a cost to the quality of the manuscript.

Well, I've used up my words. Time to go think about dinner. But hey, I did a post today!

---

Recover and Recharge

Today I read an article online about creativity fatigue. This is from Alexia Petrakos's post, "How to Recover and Recharge from Creative Burnout" on Collective Creatives - a cooperative artisan blog:

"Creativity comes in cycles. One month you’re churning out piece after piece, everything you put your hand to comes out fabulous. It seems like it’ll go on forever. You are the Productivity Queen! Next month you crash and burn. You can’t even bear to look at your studio, let alone make something. This is when you need to recognize the signs your body is sending. After a time of great creative work, your brain, spirit and body need a break. You’ve spent your creative energies and your well is dry. It’s time to recharge."

I think that I could paraphrase that second to last sentence to "after a lengthy period of sustained and concentrated creative work, your brain, emotions and body need a break." Now it applies to me. Some of the things she suggests are write in a journal, take a vacation, read a book, take a walk and sleep -- as in take more naps. She left out sit and stare out the window.

I have never experienced myself like this, being so without motivation. There are tons of things I should be doing... I should be catching up on all the cleaning that has been put off while I took care of the dog, nursed my trigger finger and wrote Enclave. (Instead, I'm just doing the bare minimum and one or two extra tasks a week). I should be answering my emails, but for some reason, can't seem to make myself do it. No words. I should be writing a newsletter but, again... can't seem to make myself do it. I should be cleaning out my files, backing them up, and reworking my website. I should be tackling all the house projects that have been put on hold while I was writing Enclave. But I can't seem to make myself do any of it.

Of course, I have been taking my mother round to her tests and doctor's appointments -- we have two more scheduled for the upcoming week, which isn't exactly a vacation, but sort of. It does seem to consume much of my energy for the day. And the heat doesn't help, either, since that always sucks the life out of you.

And we've been walking Quigley -- he and I went together around the park Saturday night and it was exquisite. After day of 107 degree temps, a sort of thunderstorm developed over the mountains and then dumped rain which sent a semi-sustained wind through the city. The temps dropped to the mid eighties during our walk (plus I love the wind) and it was downright comfortable. Quigley was as good on the walk as Bear ever was. It was wonderful.

My son returned from San Diego this weekend and we celebrated Father's Day on Saturday morning with breakfast at our favorite breakfast place, Millie's Pancake Haus. Those were all wonderful, fun things, but they take up time. And energy.

But beyond those things and the day to day requirements, I've mostly continued to spend my time making cards, playing with my stamps, ordering new ones and just sitting. I enjoy doing mindless things, like cutting out stamped images with small scissors. It's easy, and you make measurable progress. Plus I love looking at the shapes and colors and putting them together into pleasing designs.

It dawned on me today that I'm still tired. And that I'm tired in a way I've not been before -- not just physically but mentally and emotionally and ... willfully (?) That is, my capacity to make myself do things seems to be very weak. A friend in college told me today that she feels this way after a semester ends and it doesn't go away in a week (which I was expecting). More like a month.

I doubt I have a month, but I think I'm going to give myself grace here. It's been a difficult, confusing, chaotic year. I can continue to go gently and while I might not be napping, the sitting and staring, or playing with the cards, is a form of resting. A weird one, for me, but resting, nevertheless.

Flies, Flyswatters and Flying

I started chapter 26 today, and here's the nonstop I wrote (slightly edited) about 2:19pm trying to get myself jumpstarted:

Okay, here goes. I’ve been dinking around, doing everything but writing. I’ve been... I don’t even know what I’ve been doing. Fooling with Quigley. Looking up reviews of Charlie Wilson’s War. Because I thought it was lame and wanted to know if someone else did too. Apparently not. All the reviews I found were very positive.

So. I ate lunch. And I don’t know what else. Frittered. Oh, I wrote in my journal. Killed flies. Melted the flyswatter. Got the snail mail.

So. (Again.) Here I am. I’ve at least been thinking about ch 26. Oh yeah, and the cover for The Enclave they’re working on at BHP has come through. I don't know what I think about it, yet, except that it features the top of a woman's face and Cam is turning out to be the stronger, more central character of my male/female pov's. Even though Lacey starts the story.

So... (for the third time.) "So" is some kind of conjunction, isn’t it? A summarizing? A leading to? Well, I can see that even here nonstopping I’m going to just ditz and be blank and accomplish absolutely nothing. I thought earlier that maybe it would be better to try to work through editing chapters that I’ve already drafted than to just do what I’ve been doing today. Kill flies... melt the flyswatter -- Oh, and I looked for the source of the flies, too, because there are way too many and I’m convinced something is manufacturing them. Last time this happened, it was a bunch of dog food kibbles that had gotten knocked under the refrigerator. First I had discovered a stream of maggots on a march across the kitchen floor from the fridge to the freezer, then found the dog food kibbles under the latter and in a dark corner, riddled with holes! Gross!

So today I immediately used a flyswatter handle to knock the kibble out from under the fridge. There were only a couple kibbles, but they weren’t riddled with holes. Nor were there any maggots. I think I’ve gotten all the food sources out from under the the refrigerator, and also the freezer, and under the garbage can. I can't think of any other place. So where are all the flies coming from? Oh, and I melted the flyswatter by putting it on a still-hot burner (one of the disadvantages of having a ceramic cooktop stove). Then I had to clean plastic off the burner and cut off the burned parts of the flyswatter's swatter.

So.(Number 4) This is really and truly blither today. Could I at least try to address the subject? Lacey arrives at the party...

And from there things took off. I got on a roll, the timer went off, I ignored it and now, two hours later I have 7 pages of sketch/draft for chapter 26. How about that?

Grace,
Karen

A Picture of Me Working

A really cool thing happened today. It was Monday. The Monday after one of my husband's three day weekends, and those Mondays are always low production days for me. So I was doing my usual dinking around, going from thing to thing, unable to focus or concentrate on anything much, even as the voices of doom murmured at the back of my mind that the deadline was drawing nearer and I should be working, certainly much harder and for more hours than I was. In fact, I hadn't worked all morning, when I had ample opportunity.

Finally sometime around noon I persuaded myself it was time to really put my mind to the task of working on the book... and of course, there was the Blankness again. My familiar friend. So the first thing I did (the only thing I could think to do) was write a nonstop that ended up being a combination whine and prayer. Was I out of line for my lack of dedication and devotion to writing? As my calling and service to God, shouldn't I be treating it all more seriously? Shouldn't I just exercise self-discipline and plod on from A to B to C... The self-condemnation started in.

Then I asked myself I was thinking. I was thinking that I wanted some progress, that I was bad because there wasn't any. That if I’d just buckle down and pay attention, put my mind to there problem, there would be progress. But how did that mesh with the concept of resting that I've spent the last three weeks learning about? With waiting for the Lord to provide?

I ended up all confused and frustrated again. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing. I realized I had a form of how a writer's day should look, but that was someone else's form. Was that consistent with whatever God's form of it would be for me? What does me working on the book look like from God’s point of view? I had no idea. So I asked Him.

About half an hour later I decided to check blogs, and went to Robin McKinley's wondering if she had put up more pictures of her "hellhounds". She hadn't so I went to her website to see if there were some there, and instead I stumbled upon her FAQ's and the question of how many hours a day she spent writing. Her answer? "Two to twelve." Then she elaborated.

And described how I work almost exactly. It's two hours in the beginning when it's so darned hard. When you are "spinning substance out of nothing." When on a good day you know not just the next word but maybe the next sentence or even paragraph. Which is, as I've said before and she reiterated, "an incredibly exhausting process." But once "the book gathers momentum -- and pages and drafts -- I can work on it for longer , because there's more there to work with." Exactly.

Once you have some idea where you're going and how things fit together, those things breed more ideas and more connections and it just takes off. That's when you start putting in the 12 to 14 hour days. I'm just not there yet. So doing 5 pages of virgin draft, which is what I did today, is extremely draining for me and it's okay. It's how it's supposed to be for me. I just need to remember that.

Her discussion, which you can read here if you want (you'll have to scroll down to the second question, although her answer to the first question was very descriptive of my experiences as well), was so exactly what I go through that reading it set me free. I wasn't just being a lazy sloth. This really is a pattern and a way of working. And it occurred to me as I came to the end of it that God had just given me a "picture" of what me working on the book looked like.

And that, too, is very freeing. As for how I'm going to make my deadline if I only write six pages a day... I'm not going there. We're to live one day at a time, and I already know there's a point in the writing of the book when things begin to go faster. But even if not, the end can be rough. This IS a first draft... so, that's for Him to work out. I'm not going to try to decide what the number of tomorrow's pages is today. I'm just going to be thankful for the number that I wrote.

And also for how the scene that was little more than a few lines of dialog transformed itself without warning into something I'm finding very interesting. So. That's cool, too.

Grace,
Karen

Chaos to Order

Well, ever since Quigley was released from the cone, able to be put into the back yard, and life has somewhat found its way round to normal, I've actually been able to get some work done on my WIP. Imagine that!

On Thursday I got a late start on account of working in my journal a bit regarding the message we'd heard Wednesday night (still on rest and quite fantastic). I returned to ch 22 and the second main scene of the chapter, for which I'd just laid in a few notes the day before. At that point I had no idea what the purpose of the scene was. The parts I did have were side issues. So I started working and thinking and sorting...

Suddenly an image came into my head that had nothing to do with the scene I was trying to develop in 22, but involved some pods and told me where the black boxes came from. Oooh. Creepy. Cool... I LIKE it.

Now, which of my characters would be the one viewing the image I'd just seen?

One thing led to another and eventually I'd gone back to ch 16 and inserted the scene in Storyline 2, refined an existing scene in the same sequence and in the process added 4 more pages.

Friday I addressed the beginning of ch 21, another part of Storyline 2 that I'd only made notes on but hadn't written. I was overwhelmed by all the ideas that were floating about, and the way that trying to follow any one of them would lead me on very long thought trips that always ended up with me totally lost and confused. So I sat down and decided to try to come up with a very simple sequence of cause and effect using the central idea and/or material I already have, even if it seemed trivial.

I worked all day and ended up with a chapter. Only 7 pages, but I'm trying to keep Storyline 2 shorter, and 7 pages is about right.

Saturday I went back to chapter 22 where, once again, I was trying to figure out what the point of the second scene was. I have a sequence though and tomorrow I plan to pursue it. Who knows where that will lead.

This all fits right in with the lessons on resting. I might have to just put in some quotes from them, because they were so good. In summary it involves staying out of the future, not thinking about the problem, but thinking instead about God, the one who is in control, who knows all the details, who is FOR me, who is the one who will accomplish my work for me, who has promised me rest if only I'll believe Him...

This message is finally beginning to get through to me. I'm not sweating the writing and the blankness and the chaos, just moving along. And if I'm not working at a frenetic desperate pace, but taking a break to, oh, eat a cookie, stare out the window, play with my dog... I think it's okay.

Quigley has been ... wonderful. I'm loving him! I love his red coat. I love the way he moves. He's so sweet and loving now. He will stand there and let you hug him for a long time and no biting. Just licks.

He's still puppy, of course, and right now into swiping things, but it's cuter and funnier than it is disturbing. And we just go to him and ask him, "What are you doing? That (shoe/paper/bottle) is not yours. Give." We might have to repeat "give" a number of times but eventually he complies.

Okay, sometimes he tries to escape by fleeing under the coffee table, but we get him and then he has to "give." I like the way he does respond. I like that we tell him to "give" and he does, rather than forcing us to pry his mouth open and take it. He now knows how to sit, down, stay, shake, come, crawl, "take it," "get in your bed" and walk on a leash. None of those are perfect, and distractions do distract, but things are definitely getting better.

He's also lost all his puppy canines, and his biting is much more under control.

Time for bed.
Karen

Creative Brains

I came accross this article in Science Daily the other day on creative brains, and how there may be a biological basis for linking creativity to mental illness. Not that I'm excited about that sort of linkage but there was another aspect in the article that fascinated me and that's the notion that we have differing levels of "latent inhibition".

The Harvard University study, which appeared in the September 2003 issue of the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, said the brains of creative people appear to be more open to stimuli from the surrounding environment than other people's, whose brains shut out this same information through a process called "latent inhibition". Latent inhibition is "an animal's unconscious capacity to ignore stimuli that experience has shown are irrelevant to its needs." According to the researchers, creative individuals are much more likely to have low levels of latent inhibition.

"This means that creative individuals remain in contact with the extra information constantly streaming in from the environment," said one. "The normal person classifies an object, and then forgets about it, even though that object is much more complex and interesting than he or she thinks. The creative person, by contrast, is always open to new possibilities."

Low levels of latent inhibition may be a good thing if the person has the capacity to think about many things at once. "If you are open to new information, new ideas, you better be able to intelligently and carefully edit and choose. If you have 50 ideas, only two or three are likely to be good. You have to be able to discriminate or you'll get swamped."

And getting swamped, obviously would not be a good thing. Apparently having many things tumbling through your mind at once is also a precursor to schizophrenia, among other things. (Which is the aforementioned link to mental illness.... but we won't go there.)

I think I might be able to classify myself as a creative individual. I know that I relate strongly to this idea of latent inhibition. I do tend to struggle with all the things that come into my periphery -- in the sense that I am aware of them and sometimes feel overwhelmed by them. They are all interesting and I want to think them out, or they bug me and then I really want to think them through. Or maybe it's not that I'm so open, just that there's a lot of stuff out there bombarding all of us all the time.

I have 100s of ideas for Enclave, but I'm definitely experiencing overload and the sense of being swamped when it comes to discriminating. At least if that discrimination must be performed right away. If I give myself time to niggle it, as one of my son's English teachers put it, then it's not really overwhelming at all.

But it just shows, again, how different we all are, and what different paths we take through life and thus, the specifically different plan God has designed for each of us.

Grace,
Karen

Unexpected Research

Tuesday I applied the principles I've been posting about this week. I came into the office, rebounded, asked for guidance, thought maybe I'd start by tidying up my desk and then reading what I'd written the day before. And somehow, I'm not sure how, I ended up going through my collected articles on evolution, then reading some material online and...I spent pretty much all day on it. Not at all what I thought I'd be doing, but it's changed the direction in which I was planning on going with the scene I'm facing. I'm not sure exactly where I'm headed now, just not where I had planned. I am confident, however, that the book will be better for it.

I am also pretty blown away by some of the things I read. But more on that next week.

Grace,
Karen

More Disciplined

So what, I wonder, does the "more disciplined" I harangued myself with yesterday look like?

Not reading blogs? Not playing with the dog? Not… what? No housecleaning? No writing in the journal? No Bible class? That’s ridiculous.

There is now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.

Am I condemning myself here? Or is this the Holy Spirit? I think it’s my sin nature because there’s fear and urgency connected to it:

You’ve GOT to get more work done! That deadline is approaching and you’re nowhere near done. You have been undisciplined and bad and you need to work harder and stop being so distracted. This all depends on you. Yeah, fine to trust God, but you have to set your behind down in the chair and write.

Do I? This all sounds more like the legalistic, old sin nature-taskmaster than the grace and mercy of God. The Holy Spirit convicts rather than condemns. When He’s done, you feel good, you know what you’ve done wrong clearly and what to do about it. Condemnation from the sin nature just leaves you feeling rotten.

And what about that dead, blank-headed time when the creative part is working behind the scenes?

What about God revealing the story in His timing and not mine? What about me waiting on Him? Being patient. Not striving, just confident that He will move me as I need moving. Sometimes reading blogs and such sparks an idea… so it’s not always bad.

Striving, self-condemnation, anxiety, getting all afroth with impatience and worry… It doesn’t look by sight that I will ever finish on time, that this will ever work out… But that’s just the kind of situation God likes to put His children in, because we’re not supposed to be walking by sight but by faith. I think this must be a really hard lesson for me to get, because I keep going back over and over it.

It really is diametrically opposed to the world’s way and to the sin nature’s way -- to just relax and rest and trust God to move me at the appropriate time and in the appropriate ways to get the work done He wants done. His plan, not mine. His work, not mine.

There’s always time to do the Will of God.

Grace,
Karne

Undicsiplined Lout

From a Nonstop I did a couple weeks ago, in the throes of blankness:

Lord, I need your help! I’m totally confused, I don’t know where to go, I’m starting to get antsy and uneasy because time is passing faster than pages are accruing and even though yes, it’s come together before, the last time was so hard and so bad and I hate having to do that to my editor and everyone else. I want to be responsible and reliable, not the temperamental, undisciplined artiste who can’t meet her deadlines.

If I can't, then I gain a reputation as a sluggard and a person with no discipline which could well be the truth. It may be I don’t have discipline. But if I need discipline, what am I to do about it? Why can’t I make myself… hmmm...

Make myself. Lord, do you even want me to make myself set a time and get my butt in here at that time and write nonstops? I could do that. To a point. Until my shoulder starts hurting, which it is starting to now. So I just can’t go on and on and on.

And now I wonder, is all this idleness and distraction part of the process? After all it’s always been like this. For thirty years of writing it's been like this. Of course, maybe I’ve always been undisciplined. Or maybe… the whole creative function won't be controlled. I wish I knew what I was to do.

Don’t compare yourself.
In whatever you do, do it heartily, as unto the Lord.

Okay, yeah, I get that. But… how do I do that with this? What does "heartily" look like? Reading a bunch of stuff, making a bunch of notes, then making an outline from the notes, based on which event follows which, and finally sitting down and just writing it out from the notes? That’s the way I learned to write papers for school.

But this isn’t like that. I don’t really know how all the pieces of this book fit together. I don't think I even have all the pieces yet. And I can’t just go read and collect a bunch of facts to put into my book.

Furthermore, if I stop and look back, I see that there are lots of reasons why I am where I am right now. I have had a lot of distractions.

In March last year, when I began writing this book, my hard drive crashed and I had to get a new computer. Simultaneously, my glasses didn’t work for about three weeks and I kept having to drive across town to the eye doctor.

In April I had the blog tour for RotGK, where there were interviews and blog posts to write and comment on. All told, it took about three weeks of my time.

In May… I got the royalty statement and realized that Legends of the Guardian King was not going to be the wild success I’d hoped and dreamed for.

In June I broke my leg.

In July I recovered, sitting about with my leg elevated (which is not easy to do while at the computer).

August 1, I broke my arm and lay around on the couch with my arm elevated for six weeks straight. I read a lot but did no real writing.

In September I went to a Bible conference, got my cast off, and started therapy.

In October I continued therapy and tried to start functioning again – catching up on all the dirt and dust and mildew that had taken over the house during the summer when I was lying on the couch with my arm elevated.

In November the trigger finger problem began, and troubles with my shoulder. I had to learn keyboard techniques to avoid the mouse.

In December it's always crazy, we were out of town for a week and my shoulder really started hurting whenever I tried to use the computer.

In January we had our Arizona Bible Conference and got Quigley, the Tasmanian devil doggie. And my car broke.

In February I was still dealing with Quigley, while the trigger finger worsened.

So yeah, there’ve been a lot of distractions. That tells me this book is important spiritually speaking, but that doesn’t tell me if I’m out of line for not being more disciplined, even if I don’t know what “more disciplined” looks like.

Grace,
Karen

Jigsaw Puzzles and Empty Stages

From my nonstop as a part of today's writing efforts:

"I’m swimming around. I’m tumbling along in a washing machine. I don’t know what I’m doing. But from reading my previous writing journals this is common. This is usual, actually. I just did a provisional sketch of a scene I feel needs to be here, but… I don’t know how to integrate it. So right now it’s just there.

"The way I write just seems so wrong. Where’s the outline? Where’s the orderly forward momentum? Why is it so amorphous and confused? Why? Why? Why?

"I don’t know.

"One of the things that seems to be happening is that I write something in a sequence and then start breaking it up, inserting new parts, moving sections of the original further and further back.

"I’m kind of going through the scene and sequel cards I had made up and they seem to be fitting, sort of. I also have a list of plot events I want, but when I look at those I am dismayed because I’ve only managed to get two of them into the story so far. But maybe most of them occur at the story's end. And right now this story's end is far more in place that its soggy, wandery middle.

"I have lots of partial scenes and scraps. Do they go together or not? Aack! Why can't I decide?

"There is no need to freak out and get all agitated. God has everything under control. This is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle and all the pieces are here. Yes, there are parts of other puzzles mixed in, but eventually all of it will be sorted out and this picture come together. I know that is the case because God is behind it. God knows. I don’t. So I’ll just keep plugging. One word at a time. That’s really what it is, too. One word at a time."

But I am progressing, working on Chapter 17 now (and you might recall that at my last report I was on ch 14), with some of it already pulled out and held for chapter 18. I have too much plot, but that's standard for me. I read my journal entry for two years ago when I was working on RotGK and I was saying the same things. Too much plot. No direction. Elements floating around with no clear place to go.

Today I thought that perhaps having Quigley as a distraction isn't really going to make all that much difference since even if I was focusing all my attention on the book for eight hours a day, I still wouldn't have gotten any further.

Another analogy is that it's like I'm watching a darkened stage, waiting for the players and scenery to emerge from the draperies. So far nothing has emerged, though I hear snatches of conversations, rumblings and rustlings. Still, after awhile staring at the empty stage gets boring and I lose interest and so go off to something more entertaining. Which today, was play with Quigley (who was very good).

So today was a thinking and simmering day. And tomorrow? Who knows!

Grace,
Karen

Notes on the Process

Where did the week go? I don't know. Nor do I know why I kept forgetting to write a blog post until I was too tired, but... it went. And I forgot.

Last Thursday a storm blew in, the first in a long time. It rained in the morning and again in the evening. I enjoyed that -- I always enjoy the rain -- and I also had a bit of a breakthrough in my writing process. In the days before I'd set myself to get to work, using the timer and, eschewing perfectionism, determined that I would write out a sketch of the notes I'd come up with for a scene. I did it and was quite pleased with myself. What I wrote was bad, just as I'd said it could be.

So then the next day, Thursday, I got myself behind the computer at 9:30am (my new tentative time to get there - Flylady's routines are working splendidly) but instead of pressing on, I was just dismayed and confused, upset, hamstrung. The scenes I had written the day before weren't right. And I just had to get them right. I had to do that right then, on Thursday. But every time I looked at the work, my thoughts would snarl and I would run away.

So I went back and reviewed earlier entries and recalled -- duh! -- I was taking BABY steps. When I wrote that draft, I was letting it be completely bad. Of course it would be flawed and grossly imperfect now. Nor was there time to let the perfectionism take over, either. Baby steps needed to be applied on subsequent drafts just as much as on the first draft. Every day, in every project, it seems. Just like I'm not going to get the house decluttered or completely cleaned in one day, so I'm not going to get the chapter, or even the scene right in one day. In fact, it almost never works that way. Whatever I do today, the work is better, clearer, closer to what it will be when it's done.

So I decided to set a specific, concrete goal for the day: I would go through the material I'd written paragraph by paragraph and note briefly what was there and any thoughts that occurred as I did so. When I began to do the work, though, I suddenly became aware of the awful negative, mocking tone of my thoughts as I analyzed. When I noted something illogical or out of the blue, my approach with myself was critical, dismissive and mocking. "What an idiotic development!" my inner voice would say. "WHY in the world would THAT happen?!" And so on. Since Flylady has addressed this aspect of the whole perfectionism syndrome -- be aware of the negative voices in your head and shut them down -- I think I was better able to be aware of them. And being aware of them helped me to tone them down.

Instead of heated denunciations, I was able to ask myself why such and such might have happened, or what could be the result of something that I'd written as occurring. I think that was very helpful, not least because you don't give yourself such a feeling that it's all horrible and there's absolutely no hope. The very language you use with yourself reminds you it's a process, a series of steps and adjustments and it's not all going to get done today.

Having done the analysis, I did a summary of it and discovered what the problems were: contradictions and/or nullifications in the dialog, no stakes, no goals, no consequences for any of the supposed threats and no specifics. Seeing all that was great because now I knew what I needed to do. Lay out the contradictions and decide which way I wanted to go. Set up some goals and stakes and consequences. And work on being specific.

Best of all, I did all that in 3 hours.

Have a great week!
Karen

Wordless Recreation

Well, after being so tired last night, I didn't expect to have a lot of energy or get much done on the book today, and I was right. I woke up still tired and when it came to thinking about Black Box, my brain had reverted to its turnip state. I've been wondering for awhile why Mondays keep being down days, and I think at least one reason may be that usually on the weekends I have a lot of social contact and do a lot of talking.

I think I’ve posted before about the writer’s supposed need for solitude and long periods of idleness or leisure, mentioned by Dorothea Brande in her classic book Becoming a Writer. I’ve never been totally sure I believed that, though more and more it does seem to be true. At least for me. She also mentions a need to spend recreational time not engaged in activities that involve words.

When I think about it, I realize that much of what I does involve words, particularly the generating of them -- either in writing my work in progress (WIP), or doing the blog or the newsletter or in answering emails. I tend to think of the blog and emails as "recreation," things I do when I'm done writing for the day, but more and more I find it difficult to that. They all pull words out of me. So does conversation. I’d read from other writers about the dangers of talking about your work in progress to others – how it tends to suck away the impetus to write it down. I just end up feeling like I am empty. That all the words have been spilled out, like water from a desert well and must somehow be replaced before I can continue.

Ms Brande addresses this in her book:

"If you want to stimulate yourself into writing, amuse yourself in wordless ways. Instead of going to a theater, hear a symphony orchestra or go by yourself to a museum; go alone for long walks or ride by yourself on a bus. If you will conscientiously refuse to talk or read, you will find yourself compensating for it to your great advantage."

I'm not sure what I think about the reading part. In the past reading has not been a problem and often stimulates me back into writing. But it's definitely true about the talking and if I do too much writing of any kind I seem to require times of not writing.

Today almost all I did was wordless -- housework, making a birthday card, shopping... I didn't try to force anything, just did what I felt like doing. It seemed to work. Even though it's late, I feel less tired now than I did when I woke up.

I'm hoping tomorrow to see more progress on the WIP.

Grace,
Karen

Asking How, What and Why

Today was the first day I've had to work solely on the book since last Friday. Hooray!

Yesterday, in the bit of time I did have to work, I went off on a tangent of looking into research institutes because I realized I had no idea what it would be like to work in one. Today, overwhelmed with the amount of research I would need to do to "get it right," I balked at diving in. Everything I seemed to try just led to me needing more information, and then finding more sources of information than I could possibly digest before this book has to be turned in -- let alone written. Maybe I'm writing about the wrong thing. What do I know about research institutes? Obviously far too little...

But then I stopped and realized that while my story is set in a research institute, it's not my intent to write about life in one. I really only need a few salient details. But how do I find in the array of sources facing me just the bits I really need without having to go through them all? I can't possibly know the answer to that question, but God does. Not only that, He knows all about research institutes and what they're like and He can guide me in forming the story now, so that it takes the right shape to mesh with information He will bring me later...

So I might as well relax.

Beyond that, I also realized today that I’d let my focus slip into the wrong place. Once again, I'd gotten all caught up in my need to have pages completed, and scenes formed and set down in a timely manner, when I should be focused on all that I've been given so far. The questions that have arisen over the last few days about the Institute’s layout, its organizational structure, the weaknesses of the original scene in chapter 5, the questions as to what I should replace it with, and what direction I really want to take here... These are good things and remind me of something I read in Orson Scott Card's Character's and Viewpoint:

"... such possibilities only emerge when we demand more from the idea, when we ask more why and what result questions. If you stop with the first acceptable answer, the first 'good enough' version of the story, you lose the chance to move from shallowness to depth, from simplicity to complexity, from a merely fun story to a fun but powerful one."

He was talking specifically of the generation of a short story in a workshop format he calls "A Thousand Ideas in an Hour." I'm a long way from developing the entire story, but I think the same idea applies to the things I am developing. As I ask the questions, or note the things that are emerging as inconsistencies and start to address them, even though it's uncomfortable and unpleasant to see that the work is not as done as I'd believed it was, this process will make it better in the end. Which is exactly what I want.

Peace,
Karen

Names and Faces

People ask me sometimes where I come up with the names for my characters and how I choose them. It's a mysterious process. Sometimes I have a pre-existing favorite name (Cameron is one that I'm using in Black Box), and sometimes the name just presents itself. Sometimes it takes a lot of fiddling around to get the name to not only sound right but also look right.

Gillard, for example, I have always heard with a soft g. But "Jillard" looks too feminine for the character. Alas, many readers give the name I chose a hard G when they pronounce it, illustrating the frustrations of trying to properly convey the sounds of a name with which readers are unfamiliar.

Sometimes I've tried to rename my characters for one reason or another. Simon, Abramm's uncle, began as Klemnend -- Klemn for short. Klemn? What was I thinking? The shift to Simon was easy in that case.

At another point I decided for some reason (I think it was the similarity to Abram of the Bible) that I needed to change Abramm's name to Alaric. I wrote a number of chapters with Alaric as the viewpoint name, but it never seemed right and finally I went back to Abramm. Then found a way to use Alaric anyway -- as his alias -- so that was fun.

Trap came whole cloth. A strange name but somehow the right one, though some readers have said that it sounds sinister. It never sounded sinister to me, just strong and straightforward.

Anyway, I've often thought this sense of a name "sounding" right seemed to be very mysterious, esoteric and maybe a little silly. But turns out it's not as silly as I thought.

My friend Ed Willett recently did a piece on his blog called The Face is Familiar, But That Can't be Your Name... in which he reported on a recent research project designed to find out if Americans "hold common notions of what kinds of faces should go with certain names." Turns out they do, and furthermore, that it is much easier to remember someone's name if their face matches your concept of what the name implies (they don't always). Which I suppose explains why you can merely give a character a name and a reader can make up a face to go with it. One that often doesn't look anything like the faces that are put on the book's cover.

These conclusions were followed by the reflection on why that might be. Ed's article said that since Bob is a round-sounding name, it makes sense that it would go with a roundish face, and that Tim, being a thin, angular-sounding name describes an angular face. That might be. I think an even more compelling rationale is the fact that "Bob" is a round-looking name, while "Tim" looks tall, thin. To me, that makes more of a connection with how Bob and Tim will look than how the words sound. But I'm more visually oriented than sound oriented. Then again... why not both: round-sounding and round-looking?

By this measure what are Abramm and Trap? Abramm seems tall, commanding and substantial. Trap is trim, strong, deep. And Cameron... hmmm. Softer, but still strong, kind of mysterious, but with substance as well. Or maybe I'm just biased, since I know the characters I've given those names to. (But what's with all the a's and m's? I detect a pattern here. What does it mean? I haven't the foggiest, but you can read the entire article here.)

Grace,
Karen

Being Idle

Weird. I found another nonstop written last year, just about this same time, that could have been written it yesterday. Or today...

"Okay, rather than just sit around staring out the window or at my notes, or getting caught up in yet another diversion/distraction... I will do this nonstop. I could go get coffee, but I won’t. I will do this. I have to be patient with myself. I know that. I recognize this stage. It’s the jittery, mind flitting everywhere stage. I have often wondered if I should use this time to work on something else, but I have never really been able to get myself to do that.

"Crocheting might be good. Or maybe just weird doodling, which I could do. Doodling and coloring in. But anything else? No. I don’t even want to read. And it disturbs me that the only things I can do are mindless, go-nowhere activities. If I try to clean house then I’ll start categorizing and organizing in my mind what else needs to be done and the order in which I’ll do it... and all thoughts of the book go out the window.

"I have read that one does need this time to do nothing. To be idle. Idle. I believe that means doing nothing. That was the word used. And here’s the dictionary definition:

"1) lacking worth or basis : VAIN, idle chatter, idle pleasure, 2) not occupied or employed. 3) not turned to normal or appropriate use, ie, idle funds; idle farmland 4) not scheduled to compete, eg, the team will be idle tomorrow.

"So yeah. If I’m doing housework, that’s not idle. If I’m crocheting that’s so mindless that it’s occupying, yet has no real value. Doodling, likewise. If I start trying to paint a picture, then I have direction, then my mind starts working hard... and it’s no good. It doesn’t work. Walking is okay. I don’t know about stretching. That’s not so good because there is a sequence I have to recall and then I’m no longer idle. I’m recalling and doing.

"That’s interesting. Sitting at the desk watching the birds is really and truly the kind of thing I need to be doing.

"But I've never been able to stand being idle. I always feel guilty about it. I guess I’m an achiever and I want to be achieving, and being idle is not achieving. But I obviously need it, because after the period of idleness when it seems that nothing is happening...the answers do emerge.

"So then what I'm saying is that I have a job where I’m supposed to be idle for some of the time?! Just drift around and be relaxed about that? Oh my.

"Well and here’s a thought from Bible class the other day: the Christian Way of Life is not about achieving and producing, but sitting and listening and submitting and letting the Lord do the work in His time. It is often about waiting through days upon days of small things. It is not about us doing great things for God or even seeking to “please” Him with our works and gifts and activities. It's about us using the power He’s given us through the filling of the Holy Spirit and the intake and applicaction of God's word so He can produce virtue in us and develop the capacity to receive the blessings He has for us. He is glorified when He gives to us, not when we "do" for Him.

"So... then... to sit idly; sheerly, completely, unabashedly idly... is not necessarily at odds with the concept of grace. I am very diligent and disciplined about taking in doctrine. And more, lately, about prayer. Also being filled with the Spirit. I am here, available to write, I’ve set up the schedule to do that. I’ve prepared myself... and I do tussle with the work.

"But I also often “squander” the time that I have doing idle things. And I know that I have always done this, all through my thirty-odd years of writing seriously. There are periods of time, sometimes days, when I cannot concentrate on the work itself for more than a few minutes and yet can’t seem to focus on anything else; when I often just sit and watch the birds. Maybe I should pay attention to this, note the consistent presence of this behavior and take it into account. I do it. Repeatedly. And at the end of the cycle, the new portion of the work always emerges.

"Pastor was also talking in that lesson about cycles. Highs and lows. Or in this case, productivity and non-productivity. Not really rest. Maybe partly rest and partly work beneath the surface. I’m in one now.

"I've just gone through a period of a lot of production, some related to writing, some related to life in general. And having come to the end of all that, I am inclined to be idle. To not go forward with any of the projects that I think are important – like cleaning the house, like getting this book written..."

The old nonstop ends here, but in reading through it I see that I'm at a stage in this book where again I have to do a lot of creating. What is the layout of the Institute? What does Lacey's room look like? What kind of relationship does she have with her roommate and her co-workers? What kind of schedule and organizational system does the Institute have with respect to who lives where and when? What about the service people? Where is the dining hall? Who all eats there?

Each question triggers more questions, all of which have to be considered with an eye to plot and character. It's not a small job. It's not even a linear job. So... I guess this weird, mind-flitting idleness is really not such a disaster after all. And the only thing I really needed to confess today was the self-condemnation for "letting myself" fall into it.

Grace,
Karen

The Muddled Phase

Photo by Noel Lee

Today I came across several nonstops that I'd done when I started Black Box several years ago. These quotes perfectly nail how I'm feeling now and it always seems to help when I reread about how I felt before:

“Gah! I hate all this muddled thinking I'm doing. Just completely mushed up and tangled. Nothing clear, nothing right. A mess. Ideas float in and out. Who knows if they're any good? They sort of fit, but then need modification. I just don't know what I'm doing. It all feels like a stupid idea, I should just give it up and go write something simpler. But . . . I do recall feeling this way about Arena. And about Eidon, for that matter. So. Again, I must walk by faith. And again I am in the fog. Where I can't tell if I'm going forward or backward, where I'm going, if I'm actually going anywhere, or just in a circle.

“In fact, it's hard to even think about any of it. As I start to grope for it mentally, it seems to recede and fall into a jumble. I want to wrest it all into order, and yet there's nothing to hold onto. Not even a direction to head in.

“... urk and urk. Swirling again. Maybe I should just try and write it. I don't know. I guess I need to lie down or iron or something. Something constructive. Something besides just sitting here staring at the wall having half-formed thoughts flit in and out. It's maddening. Maybe I should just paint. Or clean or . . . but I don't want to do any of those. I want some order. I want a map. I want it now. I have to make it myself. My brain won't cooperate. "

[... and then my mind flits to something that is completely irrelevant but bothering me at the time.]

“Where was I? Trying to distract myself? Is this avoidance behavior? I don't know what to do. Sit and wait, or just try to make something emerge...

“Oh this is a waste. My brain is dust. Ash. Urk and urk. And urk. So many distractions. I am becalmed again. There seems to be an awful lot of that. I need to rebound and ask for guidance because there doesn't seem to be any... Maybe I shouldn't be waiting for some great surge of "it's right!" Maybe I should just look at what I've got and go with it, whether I feel good about it, or not. Just do the plan I have.”

Later...

“Okay, I was frustrated, angry. I have need of patience. I need to trust Him to provide and to be content in whatever state I find myself. And if that state is in not finding the lost object --AGAIN -- then that is what I will be content with. Or not finding the answer. That's what it is. It's not an object, it's an answer. An understanding. And I haven't found it. And I feel as if I should be able to find it now. Immediately. But I can't. I look inside and only incoherent thoughts fly by. Not even floating anymore, more like whirling, breaking apart, joining with others and breaking apart. Maybe that's what's going on. I don't know. Maybe I should just give it up and iron. But I feel that I must get busy on this book. That I must be professional and work. That I must use my time wisely, when it seems all I do is write endless, worthless nonstops that get me nowhere.”

Well, maybe not worthless in retrospect. Repeatedly rediscovering them and then going through the same process again is starting to beat the fact into my thick head that maybe this muddled experience REALLY is a part of the process, just like the books say and my experience indicates. And that trying to force things isn't going to work so I might as well give that up and relax.

I did finish up the scene in Ch 1 I was working on and move on to reading and editing Ch 3.

Have a great weekend and Happy Mother's Day to all the readers out there who are moms.

Karen