writer – Page 5 – Tipsy Typer

Stood Up By My Muse (Again)

The muse is a fickle creature, one minute inspiring you to ignore the entire universe and feverishly write without thought of food or personal care, then next moment she traipses away like smoke in the wind, leaving you land locked and unsure. If there is a way to force her attendance, I have not discovered it yet. She is a flighty creature, and will come and go as she sees fit. Unfortunatly, she usually picks the most inopporitune times to strike: when I am busy at work, in the shower, or out living my daily life (unfortunately, the groceries have not yet figured out how to buy themselves and walk home).

And yet when I plan out my night, fully expecting her to join me for a romantic computer-lit date filled with witty quips and shocking plot twists- she is nowhere to be found. I am left to type away all on my own, with only the slightest hint of inspiration to keep me trudging through the words to reach my daily goal. I have realized over the years that she is the flaky friend you cannot wait on, because if you do, you will find yourself simply spinning in circles.

So what do you do when your muse stands you up yet again? You can go for a walk, run around the block and hope you attract her attention. But after a while you open your laptop (or notebook, per your preference), take a deep breath and start writing. The muse waits for no one- but if she is to magically appear, she ought to find you working. It is the one thing that might attract her. It’s hard to continue typing away when you have no real fire burning inside of you, when you have to pry every word from your fingertips and paste them to the page. But you do it anyway, because as writers we are that kind of crazy. You write, and you slog through, and in a few weeks when you begin your editing- you wont know which scenes she had been present for, and which ones you fought for all on your own.

Writing is not easy, we don’t do it because it is simple. We do it because there is a story inside of us that must see the light of day before it drives us mad. When the muse decides to grace you with her presence, take advantage of that, write feverishly, stay up late, immerse yourself in the words pouring from your soul. And when she is gone, don’t stop. That flighty fiend will always find a way back to you when you least expect it. Writing is the surest way to draw her back in.

I’m not saying to push it when every fiber of your being needs a break- by all means, take the time you need to recharge. Go for a walk, take a shower, read a book, watch a show, bake something- recharge your batteries. But if she still hasn’t arrived- run and jump, dive back into your story and reach your goals. You can do it, even without her- you are a spectacular writer. Just remember that.

Writing Makes Me Whole

I write to express the things I cannot actually speak. I may have these eloquent, beautiful or equally witty and hilarious comments and quips all planned out in my head- but somewhere between my firing neurons, the message gets lost and comes out haphazard and jumbled. It’s frustrating really- to feel like I cannot portray on the outside who I really am inside. It’s like there’s this light shining through me, but instead of seeing myself in it, I just see shadows. I am an imposter in my own skin. Except when I write. That is when I truly feel most like myself. The awkwardness that envelopes the daily me is shed, or perhaps it’s just less noticeable when I’m not tripping over my syllables.

In my writing I can pretend to be a girl that enthralls me, a person who has had adventure thrust upon her and rises to the challenge. With my words I can be the strong, stubborn woman I have hidden inside of me. I don’t have to be the girl who fumbles for the correct thing to say and turns bright red when something unexpected is tossed in her lap. In life I am quiet and reserved; but when I write, I am bold and outgoing.

I have worn a thousand different masks in my life, I have been a hundred different incarnations of the same girl- all within the twenty-seven years I have spent on this earth. We all have- we are constantly changing, forever morphing into different versions of the person we were yesterday. I am a chameleon of sorts- blending in wherever I go, accentuating different aspects of my personality depending on who I am around. I’m not proud of it, but it is who I have been. But when I write- that is when I feel the most authentic. Sometimes I think my soul is written- it encompasses all of my being, it is the calm within the storm. My writing has carried me through every rough patch I have ever stumbled over. It is my constant, my rock.

I write because I don’t know how to stop, words run through my blood, pounding in my veins as I sleep, they flitter through the air that I breath. They are my comfort in a crazy world. I write to remember, and I write to forget. I write because I don’t know how else to show the world who I really am. This right here- this is me, in my truest form. I am not a girl, I am merely a collection of words strung together.

Ready, Set, NANO!

No one can be grumpy on the first day of Nano- a sacred holiday to all writers who dream of these crazy months throughout the rest of the year. It simply could not be a bad day, no, I refused to allow it- not when my boss and I realized we had locked ourselves out of our offices immediately upon arrival, nor when the recording system decided that I was only entitled to snapshot pictures of the hearing I was supposed to be watching. No, it was not even a bad day when the wedge on my favorite pair of brown work shoes wiggled free and hung listlessly from my foot, threatening to dislodge at any moment (RIP little shoe, we had a good run- no pun intended). Today nothing can put me in a bad mood because I am officially embarking on yet another great adventure. The mentally testing, caffeine overdosing, chocolate-eating, Thesaurus wielding monster that is Camp Nano.

Three days ago I was ready to take my project and burn it- too cliché, too predictable, the plot wasn’t working correctly and my main character was missing her spark. Two days ago I readjusted my plot, but was spiraling into a moderate panic attack because I was not nearly as prepared as I expected. I had the best of intentions when I started prepping in June, but life inevitably finds a way to skew even the most thought out plans. One day ago I had moved on to the stage of acceptance. I was okay with the ragged holes in my plot and lack of details in my character analyses. I would sort them out as I worked, add a dash of pantsing to my plan. And then last night I endulged myself in the last Netflix marathon I will partake in for a very long time. Irresponsible, I know, I had a laundry list of other things I should have been working on. But the pull of the latest Orange is the New Black season proved too strong for me. I regret nothing- it was awesome. You should watch it (well, you know, next month after Nano- it could be a good reward). When I woke up today I was filled with a slightly nervous enthusiasm (the enthusiasm vasty outweighed the nerves).

Sadly, I couldn’t jump straight into a midnight start- even though I was so excited I was still wide awake when the clock struck. But alas, I knew my alarm would be singing me the song of it’s people at 5:30am and I would have a long day of work ahead of me covering in a new department. So I channeled my inner adult and fell asleep instead. Boring, I know, but I strongly believe that my boss appreciated the gesture. Besides- karma seemed to be favoring me today, I was even allowed to leave two and a half hours early today (don’t get too excited, it was time I earned for staying late earlier in the week), but what a perfect day for that return payment to find me.

So here I sit, perched on the cusp of this new story and hoping that this will be the year for miracles. Day one of any new project is always a day of magic and unspoken promises. It is the day that the story in your head, the one that has kept you awake at night, becomes tangible, built out of nothing more than ink and paper. It is yours, wholly and truly belonging to you and no one else. It is your soul translated on the page. Day one holds the excitement that you will crave when you reach day 14. Don’t forget how it feels today- when your fingers are flying, your mind is fully immersed in the scene before you, and the words cant slip from your pen fast enough. Remember today when the excitement wears off, when you are struggling through the trenches right beside your characters, when the story isn’t sounding the way you had thought. Remember today and be proud because you were brave enough to do this. You have created an entire world with the click of a few keys, you are a writer. You don’t have to be published to call yourself that, you just have to keep on picking up that pen (or opening that laptop, as the case may be). Tell the world your story, you will be amazed at how many people will turn to listen.

Today will be a beautiful day. Today we celebrate the first day of our new worlds, the birth of the characters we will learn to know better than we know ourselves. Today we embark on an adventure together. Happy Nano, my friends, and may the odds be ever in your favor.

A Villain is a Victim…

A villain is just a victim whos story hasn’t been told.”

I seem to have a knack for finding (and liking) what winds up being fairly controversial quotes in the writing world. I must admit, I didn’t expect some of the vehemence I have come across when touting a few of my favorite lines- these are words that I have plastered all over my writing desk to give myself inspiration. I should have known better- writers are generally passionate people (how could they be anything else, you don’t do this work for the glamor it provides), so why was I surprised that their passion extended as far as inspirational writing quotes about the craft itself?

Viewing a villain as a possible victim: there are people out there who get so enraged with writers who follow this piece of advice that they feel the sudden urge to catapult their book at the nearest wall. It seems like a strong reaction, I know- but that was exactly what I was told the last time I tried to post it to a writing website I used to frequent. In fact, the person in question was really unhappy with anything I could have said on the subject, and was rather angry that I brought it up at all (I obviously ruined her otherwise perfect day). Her stance was that real villains exist in the world and that no amount of coddling will change that, and ‘acting in a vile manner’ was a choice. She was a firm believer that evil is evil, and that claiming victimhood was merely an excuse. She despised writers who attempted to make their villains as anything but what the stereotype suggests- evil for evil’s sake.

Now, I have a very different interpretation of the quote- I guess that is the beauty of the written word- you can have a million people read the same words, and they will walk away with a million different viewpoints on it. In a literary sense, I view the ‘villain as a victim’ quote in a less literal way. My intent with my writing is never to coddle them or turn them into the ‘good guys’ in some fashion. For me, this quote was always a reminder that my characters- especially my villains- are three dimension creations. I like to remind myself that my characters need a motivation, a purpose- even the ‘evil’ ones still need a story to explain their actions. I want all of my characters to have a purpose, a reason for acting the way that they do- not just out running amok doing random evil deeds just so they can twiddle their mustache and laugh maniacally about it later. I don’t want to insinuate that they are necessarily innocent in any way, but I do believe that adding an edge of gray to a standard cookie-cutter character would add a new prism to view your writing in.

Let’s take a famous piece of literature for example- one I hope most people would know is Harry Potter. The villain- Lord Voldemort- there is no question that he is a truly evil villain. But, at the same time, he doesn’t do his evil deeds for the sake of evil- he does them because his belief system (as faulty as it is) tells him that the magical world is being tainted by impure blood, and he wants a superior race of pure bloods to be in charge. He goes about this personal mission in a variety of very dark and, yes, evil, ways. Now, they don’t delve too deeply into why his views go this direction- most likely it was his muggle father whom he hates, or the orphanage where he grew up- but no one reads that and says ‘aw poor little Vordey, we forgive you for all you’ve done’. It’s simply a fact- a piece of his backstory that motivates his later evil deeds. I don’t think villains should be coddled, but perhaps a bit of understanding is in order to make a truly realistic character. No one will look at the actions of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and forgive them because of his past- they simply provide the motivation for why he is doing the heinous things that he does.

It is all about perspective, after all. I love the concept that most villains don’t view themselves as villains. I like to add shades of gray to my stories, I have never been a fan of straight black and white. I want to invoke deeper feelings and thoughts about my characters apart from plain love and hate. I want my readers to feel something, to be forced to think and really look at characters I have created. And yes, I want my villains to be victims who haven’t told their stories- because that means they still have a story to tell, another dimension to color them. That is what makes a realistic piece of work- the colors that shade it.

Camp NanoWriMo: Pre-Madness Month

It’s official, there is less than one month left before the start of the July session of Camp Nano. The site is open and ready for you to sign up and register your novel. I am so excited, and yet a bit apprehensive. There is so much left to do before the end of the month, how am I going to find the time? Because missing a Nano is out of the question.

For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about- I’ll give you a quick run down. Camp Nano is an offshoot of the main Nano, also known as NanoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It’s a virtual writing challenge where thousands of people across the globe sign up to tackle a single venture at the same time. The main event takes place every November. The challenge: to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Nano has actually been around since 1999, but I didn’t discover it until 2013- I haven’t missed a Nano or Camp session since.

The Camp Nano is the figurative little brother of the November session. It has more of a community focus to it. If you sign up, you get the option to join virtual cabins- either of your own creation or through a bot that will randomly place you. You also get to set your own customized word count goal- whatever you want it to be. Every person in your cabin has their own project to work on, but you get to network and talk throughout the month as you all embark on the adventure together. Rest assured, it is a virtual camp- there is no ravel required, and no real roughing it unless you decide to take your laptop out on the back patio.

I am addicted, I’ll tell you that upfront- and if anyone reading this is interested in writing- I strongly suggest you give it a shot, what do you have to lose? It’s such a positive community, it is one of the few places where I feel completely accepted. My oddball interests and quirks suddenly aren’t so strange anymore. Plus- there are thousands of writers who have years of experience, tips and tricks to share. And they are more than willing to help anyone who stumbles across their path.

So here we are, at the beginning of June, less than one month out from the start of camp. There is so much to do to get ready this time around. I still have to decide what project I want to dedicate my time to this year, preferably something that wont require massive amounts of research to prepare. I think I’m going to be trying something crazy again- as I said before, the usual word count goal is 50k, which is a challenge when you have your regular life still moving forward without pause. So far I’ve managed to hit it every time. But the past few sessions I made my own private goal: one I still haven’t touched. I want to hit that coveted 100k in 30 days. That’s it- the big dream, the word series kind of goal I have fallen just shy of every other Nano.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t apprehensive- I have a lot more on my plate this year that I have had in the past. It’s quickly turning into vacation season at work- which means I will be busy covering everyone who is out of the office. Besides that, I have this blog that I refuse to neglect. There are a few side projects that I am hoping to have in full swing by the time July rolls around. And who can forget my regular life that I can’t just hide away from- there will be no living in seclusion this Camp. In spite of all of the demands for my time, I know I have to try anyways. I have to beat my old record, I have to get better this time. If I plan it right, I might be able to push for it. It’s just going to be one hell of a month.

Red-Nose Day: rediscover childhood joys

“The most radical act anyone can commit is to be happy.”

-Robin Williams (Patch Adams)

Red Nose Day is here, a time for merry-making and frivolity! And all for a good cause. For those who don’t know, Red Nose Day is a fundraising event geared towards raising money for children living in poverty. It is a brief moment in our busy lives where we lackluster grown-ups can rediscover the giddy memories of a simpler time and strive to help those in need, so they can afford the same opportunities many take for granted. It is giving us an opportunity to help others create the same find and carefree memories to cherish when they join the adult masses of the world. Children shouldn’t be worried about finding food, or worried about their health care or education- that is our burden to bear. We can’t let them down.

In the spirit of the event, I thought it could be fun to take a moment to reminisce about a simpler time. As a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up and be in charge of my own life. Now, granted, I must admit that I do occasionally imbibe in that long-coveted childhood dream of ice cream for dinner- these days it tends to feel more like defeat than the glorious victory I once thought it would be. It seems that youth is wasted on the young- oh how I crave those simple memories some days, before responsibility came pounding at my door and barged in uninvited.

Not that I don’t still find a way to ‘relive’ my childhood on occasion. I will be the first to admit that I don’t say no when the nephews want to play ‘action figures.’ Okay- full disclosure- at my last office I even had a shelf full of the little things. They were much coveted by my co-workers kids when they came to visit, but like the Grinch- I was unwilling to share my prized possessions. And sure, you can still find the sporadic Disney movie mixed in my recently watched list on Netflix. My poor fiancé has learned that Beauty and the Beast playing is usually a sure sign that I’ve had a rough day and need to immerse myself in animated comfort.

my old toy shelf at work. poor kids cant reach, hehe.

But my biggest guilty pleasure- the one I relish and refuse to admit to the rest of the world? Re-reading my old tried-and-true favorite books growing up. Oh yes, there you will see my literary roots, the books that fed the writerly obsession that has guided my life. You can still even see the seeds of these past inspirations nestled in my most current work. So why not share my past joys with all of you?

These are some of my favorite books that filled my days as a clueless little lass (in no particular order or specified age), these are the ones the I still search for to add to my extensive book collection, and the ones I run to when I am in need of chicken soup for my soul.

The PhantomTollbooth
Bunnicula (if you haven’t read this, please, please go out and find it- it’s a hidden gem)
Animorphs
Harriet the Spy (and yes- I did own one of those black-and-white marbled notebooks for my very own spy work)
Ramona
Ralph S. Mouse
Wayside School
Scary Stories
Goosebumps (especially the choose-your-own adventure books. Spoiler: I usually died the first six rounds)
Dear America series (bonus points if it included the Titanic, oh be still my beating heart)
Nancy Drew
Walk Two Moons (first book to ever make me cry)
Amelia Badelia (the adorably literal woman who open my eyes to the strangeness that colors the English language. I will never forget ‘hitting the road’ and ‘letting the bread rise’
Anything Dr. Seuss
And while I’m at it: anything Shel Silverstein (my goal: own a signed copy- very hard to find, even harder to afford)
And of course- Harry Potter (still obsessed, probably bordering on unhealthy. But I grew up with them. Still waiting on my letter- the owl post isn’t what it used to be)

So what about you my friends? What colored your childhood and worked your passions? Leave me a comment with your favorite works.

Cheers to Facing Fears

Bottoms up, my friends, and welcome to my personal niche out here in the interwebs. Can I let you in on a little secret? This terrifies me. Ironic, isn’t it? A writer who is petrified to let others read her work. Always so quick to snap down the lid of the laptop or toss the ink stained page back into it’s binder anytime I think someone has attempted to sneak a peek at my work in progress. And let’s not forget the death glare and eyes shooting daggers that would send even Jamie Lanister running for his mother. Yes, I am well aware of how ridiculous I sound. It’s like a sky-diver who’s afraid of heights, a baker who’s deathly allergic to sugar. I could go on, but I’ll save you my exhaustive list of analogies.

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Right now you are probably wondering what could have possibly possessed me to go against everything in my nature and send my words out into the ether for anyone to find? Simply put- it was time. I was sick of waiting for that illusive ‘someday.’ I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I could remember, it was a given- that was my calling in life. But the funny thing is, the rest of the world didn’t seem to get the message. When I stepped out my front door to face my future, the literary road was not laid out and waiting for me to come dancing along with a song on my lips like Dorothy and her Yellow Brick Road. No, the road outside continued to look suspiciously like ordinary asphalt. That didn’t matter, I told myself, I was still young- I could use the time to hone my skills, learn what made the greats so astounding. After all, what was a writer without a few scrapes and experiences to color their work?

So I went out into the big bad world and soaked up all that I could with my modest income. Actually, I went out into the world and found myself an adult job- one I grew to love. I work in the court system, and I have to say- I can’t make up the kinds of stories I hear there. It is something new and exciting every day. But every night I would still come home and carve out some time to invest in my passion, clickity-clacking away at my keyboard like my very soul depended on it. Any maybe it did- if I didn’t write, that fire inside would consume me.

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Naturally, when I decided that it was time to start taking my work more seriously- the research ensued. And, as it turns out (ready for a real bombshell)- if you want to stand a chance at publication in the modern world you need a blog. Feel free to swoon dramatically, I nearly did. That was when I had to ask myself a question- how far am I willing to go to chase that dusty old dream? The answer was simple- as far as I had to. Even doing something as crazy as starting the daunting blog. Here I was, staring up my at my figurative Everest, wondering how I could possibly learn to feel like I wasn’t just winging it every day.

Enter Tipsy Typer.

I’ll spare you the mundane and surprisingly frustrating story that is the search for an adequate blog name someone else hasn’t already scooped up. Curses to those who came up with my ideas a year before they ever found their way into my head. Okay, kudos for jumping out on that limb long before I found my own wings- but still- a few curses. Little ones. Okay, I’ll still read your own damnably clever blog.

This cozy little home of mine is the first step, and after all is said and done, I have to say I am exhilarated to actually be doing it. I’m not going to pretend that I have this whole writing thing figured out- in fact, this blog will mostly be about my own journey trying to navigate this complicated little ecosystem we seem to have. I’ll make mistakes- but perhaps I can stop others from repeating them. This will also be a place for those odds and ends I find in my research, it will be a testament to the daily happenings that shape my work- after all, inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places.

So cheers, my friends, here is to facing our fears. May we help each other climb many more mountains along the way. If there is anything that life has taught me, it’s that the things you are most afraid of have the most to offer you in the end. It’s time to be brave.