Karinwritesdangerously

“For anything worth having one must pay the price; and the price is always work, patience, love, self-sacrifice—no paper currency, no promises to pay, but the gold of real service.” John Burroughs

John Burroughs is a legendary naturalist. His writings still inspire people the world over. He devoted his life to observing nature and inspiring others to realize its beauty and fragility. He lived a simple life and so it’s not surprising that the recipe he offers here for attaining anything worthwhile is simple as well, is it?

Work: It’s one of the keys to accomplishing what we want to in our writing life. But how much time and effort are we willing to devote to it? When we work with joy and eagerness, our work isn’t work, but play—and our pleasure shows up on the page!

Patience: Sometimes it takes a long time for the work we’re doing to bear fruit. We need to keep at it when we hit plateaus and don’t seem to be progressing. We need to keep at it when we feel discouraged. We need to keep at it no matter what—and that takes patience.

Love: When we love what we do, the work is no problem. When we love what we do, our words often take wing and surprise us. When we love what we do, we can handle disappointments and setbacks. When we love what we do, the work itself teaches us what we need to know. 

Self-sacrifice: Here’s a price for achieving a worthy goal that many people aren’t willing to pay. They enjoy being in their comfort zones and aren’t all that eager to sacrifice things they enjoy or want to reach a goal that may seem far off. But we all know self-sacrifice matters.

There you have it: A simple recipe indeed! It has only four ingredients: work, patience, love, self-sacrifice. We can bake this cake! Write on!

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The difference between ORDINARY and EXTRAORDINARY is that little extra.” Jimmy Johnson

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”
T.S. Eliot

“The difference between ‘try’ and ‘triumph’ is a little ‘umph’” — I can’t remember where I read this quote or who said it, but it’s stayed with me. Why? Mainly because so often I’ve found myself teetering on the edge of something I’m trying to accomplish, but without committing myself to putting in that extra “umph” — that final shot of effort and energy that might push me from try to triumph. Sound familiar?

I’m betting it does, because this seems to be one of the many unsolved mysteries of the human psyche: Our tendency to conjure up self-imposed limits and then act as if they are real. I think it’s this tendency that often stops us from making the shift from ordinary to extraordinary: For some reason, we mistakenly believe that we can give just so much and not an ounce more to whatever we’re doing. 

But you know what? That’s just a story we tell ourselves. It’s just an excuse that we give for not digging a little deeper because it’s easier not to.

Here’s one thing I’ve learned from conjuring up this blog every day: The well is never dry. There’s always a little more left. There’s always another step to take, another idea to explore, another paragraph or page we can write beyond the point where stopping is easy and comfortable.

Surpassing ourselves — that’s the secret sauce of success.

If we can all — I’m right there with you! — just learn to push ourselves a little more at each writing session: to give that “little extra” and risk going out on that limb, then before we know it, we’ll have made a habit of it and going a bit farther will feel as natural as stopping does now. And when we make a habit of going further, then who knows how much further we’ll go? Let’s go for it today, as we all write on!

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Here, to inspire us all as we relax and recharge, is a meditation on the power of the written word from my cherished copy of One Thousand Beautiful Things, which came to me from my beloved mom, Dorothy:

Books

“Consider what you have in the smallest chosen library.
A company of the wisest and wittiest men that could be
picked out of all civil countries, in a thousand years,
have set in best order the results of their learning
and wisdom. The men themselves were hid and
inaccessible, solitary, impatient of interruption,
fenced by etiquette; but the thought which they
did not uncover to their bosom friend is here
written out in transparent words to us, the
strangers of another age.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

« Knowing is not enough, we must apply. Willing is not enough, we must do. »

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Knowing and willing are not enough; we must apply and do. How true these words ring and yet how hard it can be to cross the bridge from knowledge and intent to taking action! We’ve all encountered people —  even ourselves — who see amassing knowledge as a form of action and over-research before they write. They gather ever-more information, piling it up until there’s a mountain of it. And then the mountain seems so high that they feel defeated by it and never get started.

And yet, on any given day — today, for instance — we’re intuitively attuned to what we need to do to move forward in our work. Most of the time, it’s no mystery — it’s pretty simple and straightforward. So what stops us from getting on with it? Steven Pressfield has devoted a whole wonderful guide, The War of Art, to resistance in creativity that’s well worth reading. Three stumbling blocks trip me up — and perhaps you as well:

Overcoming inertia: This is huge — this is Resistance in its most blatant form. “It’s the start that stops most people,” according to Dr. Rob Gilbert* and most of us know just how true this is. Simple Rx: Apply “The 15-Minute Rule” — decide to commit just 15 minutes to getting started and often it’s enough to push forward (see post, 15 Minutes).

Overcoming fear: Another huge roadblock and reams have been written on it. It comes in a variety of flavors: fear of failure, fear of success, fear of inadequacy — these are chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. Simple Rx: “Act as if it’s impossible to fail” — proceed as if success is inevitable. Figure out what you’d do if you knew success was a sure thing — then do it.

Overcoming distraction: Another biggie — and one of the sneakiest and most lethal forms of Resistance. Being a Turner Classic movie buff who’s whiled away many an hour, I can attest to this. Simple Rx: Put yourself on a distraction diet: give yourself strict allotments of time for entertainment and social media. Tough but doable.

OK, let’s start our Apply and Do engines — and all write on!

* Check out Dr. Gilbert’s wonderful Success Hotline (973.743.4690).

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A tale once told by Dolly Parton, the legendary country singer and songwriter:

“Butterflies are colorful and bright and gentle and have no way to harm you. They go about their business and bring others pleasure while doing it, because just seeing one flying around makes people happy. I’d like to think of myself as bringing people happiness while I do my business, which is my music. I’m content with what I am, and the butterflies seem to be content to be just what they are, too. They’re gentle, but determined.”

Dolly’s gentle determination took her a long way! In her life, she played many roles: beloved entertainer, gifted songwriter, the creator of a family theme park providing people with much-needed jobs, and the founder, with her dad, of a fantastic book-giving program for kids that has distributed millions of books to create new readers.

Gentle determination – it can take us a long way as well.

When we’re gently determined, we find the will and skill to take the whisps of ideas floating around us and transform them from airy notions into words and stories.

When we’re gently determined, we remember that, like butterflies, we are colorful and bright — and that the work we do can bring others pleasure and happiness.

When we’re gently determined, we just go about our business quietly, with no fuss: We have everything we need to do it well – it’s all around us and we tap into it with joy, gratitude, and uplifting energy.

When we’re gently determined, we’re content and focused: We know we’re in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.

So often, we seem to need drama in our lives. If it isn’t around, then we create some so we have something to push against – to conflict with. I know this strategy well! it It’s a way of driving ourselves forward and goading ourselves to action. Often, it does. But it can create angst along the way and takes a lot of energy to navigate.

I think, like Dolly, I’d rather be a butterfly! Bright, cheerful, content, going about my business with gentle determination. That’s how I’m going to see myself today. How about you? Shall we try on our wings and see how far they’ll take us?

And now and forever, I feel sure that the magical, wonderful Dolly, is dancing with the butterflies. Let’s do the same as we all write on!

« Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly… »
George Orwell, Politics and the English Language

If you ever need a shot of verbal adrenalin, just turn to the brief but bitingly pithy essay, “Politics and the English Language.” Our boy George penned it in 1946, but it’s still incredibly — even scarily — relevant. It’s a true classic and not to be missed (you can easily find it on line). Embedded in the essay are some timeless tidbits on writing that are well worth sharing — and pondering:

“A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus:

What am I trying to say?
What words will express it?
What image or idiom will make it clearer?
Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?

And he will probably ask himself two more:

Could I put it more shortly?
Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly?”

“But one can often be in doubt about the effect of a word or a phrase, and one needs rules that one can rely on when instinct fails. I think the following rules will cover most cases:

Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
Never use a long word where a short one will do.
If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
Never use the passive where you can use the active.Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.”

Wonderful advice from a wonderful author. Could it really be that writing clearly is writing dangerously?
If so, then let’s risk it — and write on!

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“…the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.” William Hutchison Murray

When we’re working on a long-term project, it’s easy to get bogged down and to lose our way. Sometimes we even lose touch with the original creative impulse: the wellspring of our idea and our enthusiasm. When this happens, we’re especially vulnerable to waves of discouragement and self-doubt. At least, this has been my experience. 

When I’ve faced moments like these — and I’ve had may fair share of them! — I’ve found that the single best step I can take is to re-commit myself to my original vision. Doing this energizes and emboldens me to go on. Here’s why I think this helps: It gives us a touchstone. When we rededicate ourselves to our original concept, we:

Reconnect with our source of creativity: Reigniting that spark, finding the pulse of our original intention once more is often all we need to re-energize ourselves. There’s something refreshing about cutting through all the confusion, all the false starts, all the trappings of our trade — and just focusing on what we started out to do in the first place.

Refresh our sense of the possible: When we revisit our touchstone moments, we rekindle the sense of excitement we had at the beginning of our journey, our quest. And when this happens, once again, we feel expansive and hopeful, not hidebound and constrained.

Renew our strength: When we recommit to a project, we not only renew our original vision, we renew our strength. We tap into that enormous wellspring of power that helped us launch the project in the first place. Renewed vigor gives us fresh juice and fresh energy—what a gift!

Receive gifts from the universe: When we renew our passion and make a commitment to being true to our original vision and seeing it through to completion, no matter what, the universe takes note. Time and again, in these moments, I’ve received wonderful ideas and inspiration — often from unexpected sources — and I’m sure that you have as well. All this shows us that we’re on the right path: We’re in the right place, at the right time, and doing the right thing. Write on!

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“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.”
Robin Williams

Whatever you’re working on, you may have hit a rough patch or you may be about to pass into one. When you land in one of these spots, by its very nature, you feel bogged down and sluggish: Moving forward seems overwhelming. When you find yourself in one of these ruts, “chunking” can really help. 

Basically, this involves breaking down whatever you’re working on into small, manageable pieces and then tackling each of them in separately, in isolation. Instead of feeling distracted and fragmented, this approach helps you focus by giving you a limited amount of text to work with. 

Here’s an example: I was once making extensive changes in a key chapter in my children’s novel. Instead of adding them in piecemeal, I decided to rewrite it from start to finish, so that I could get a feeling for the new narrative flow of this portion of my story. 

Since it was a long chapter with a lot of action and dialogue, to make the revision more efficient — and more enjoyable — I took a pack of 5 x 8 index cards and rewrote the entire chapter on them. Each card was just large enough to hold a few sentences: about a paragraph of text. Sometimes I rewrote the same passage on several cards in succession, until it had more sparkle and snap. Occasionally, I decided to try a different text sequence by re-ordering the cards. This was fun and in a couple of instances, the new order definitely worked better. 

Bit by bit, card by card, the chapter started coming together. I numbered each one and stacked them in a satisfying little pile. As it got bigger and fatter, I felt more focused and more determined to push through to the end. 

I remember reading that Vladimir Nabokov wrote on small index cards, building his stories card by card. There’s something very encouraging and easeful about this approach: Instead of facing a whole page, you are just filling a rectangle with text. Why not try it and see if it works for you? Write on!

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« A poem should begin in delight and end in wisdom, » the great Robert Frost once said. And here’s a delightfully wise poem of his — all the more amazing because he actually wrote it in July!

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

“And do you think,” said the first swallow, “that the other call is not for us too, in its due season? The call of the lush meadow-grass, wet orchards, warm, insect-haunted ponds, of browsing cattle, of hay-making, and all the farm-buildings clustering round the House of the perfect Eaves?”
Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Here is something worth pondering: How do we fashion images in our writing that entice our readers to come along with us to some place that’s far away in time and space from where they spend their days? Perhaps travel with us to some enchanted place that’s really a world or two away from all that’s known and remembered? 

Enticing images – ones that delight and startle our readers, inviting them to see the familiar with fresh eyes: Where do we find them? To my mind, among the best sources of inspiration are classic stories for children. Their language is often playful, rhythmic, and lyrical. There’s a wayfaring quality to it that seems to carry you forward. 

Wind in the Willows—what a gorgeously written story! Every page sparkles and snaps with wit and and original, evocative word choices. I plan to isolate a few of my favorite passages and challenge myself to bring the same brio and surprise to my children’s novel.

There’s so much to learn from wonderful writing! Wherever we find it, let’s savor it for both the pleasure it gives and the ideas it engenders. Write on!

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