What You Need

Into every life a little rain must fall. If you mean to stay afloat both as a person and as a writer, you need a few things.

• Know what you need and create it - some of us require the illusion of stability in order to create and that stability can be elusive when life is throwing constant BS at you. Look for places you can force stability - is it enough to declare a time at which you will show up to the page and to make that space of time your anchor?
• Operate at a remove - get out of your normal place. Extract yourself from the part of your life causing chaos. Find refuge - check out the quiet section of your library. Or find a local coffee or tea shop that will let you camp a table for an hour or two. The key is to find someplace that you can retreat to where you can be the truest, most stripped down version of you - leave all the masks (spouse, child, coworker, responsible adult, etc) behind. It's just you and the page and the story. Set a timer. You'll pick up your masks and your cares once the timer goes off.
• Turn off the distractors - this isn't just about the Freedom app, though certainly use that if it helps you focus. This is about your phone. And your email. Shut them down. There is no reason on this planet for you to be 100% available to anyone 100% of the time. If you cannot bear to shut down the phone, set the Do Not Disturb for the time you want to work. You can program in exceptions so your child can always ring straight through if need be. This is only for a short time and you don't need the phone chirping, ringing, buzzing or otherwise pulling you out of your story. Immersion is hard won. Don't squander it with a stupid cell phone or an idiotic email trying to tell you who to vote for.
• Vow to become a warrior. How? Pick up the sword (or in this case, the manuscript.) Every single day. You pick it up. Some days, you'll pick it up, swing it once and put it right back down. But the bulk of the days, you'll work with it longer, trying trickier moves, acknowledging that you're clumsy as hell with it right now. But the more you pick it up and swing with intention, the better you'll get. 
• Know when to quit. A friend and former crit partner tried desperately to write while she sat in a long series of hospital rooms watching her youngest son die. She finally shut the laptop and quit. For two years. She came back to writing after and is doing very, very well now. But for her, for that time, it was necessary to put that piece of herself away so she could be fully present for her son and for herself. She has no regrets over it. 
• Get crystal clear on your priorities AND on the priorities of those around you - What do you say are your priorities. What do your actions say are your priorities. No judgements here - it's an observation about where the gap lies and why there's a gap at all, if there is one. What are your loved ones' priorities? Do they conflict with or support yours? You do know it's legit to expect your priorities to be supported only because they are your priorities and matter to you as a human being? You afford support and respect to your loved ones' priorities (within reason) because you love them and want them happy. Require the same courtesy for yourself and allow yourself to demand AND accept it.

Only you know your capacity. Only you can know what makes you tick. If you don't know, find out. It's why the gods invented therapists. No one is bulletproof. Every person on the planet will get tripped up over something. There isn't any problem with falling down. The problem is in not getting up again. 

PS: The kittens are fine. I am covered in bloody, razor-thin scratches from kitten claws. By my scars you shall know me. 

The Cursed Blinking Cursor

Have you ever undertaken telling a story you love? You set up something to pass as office space. You sit down. You begin telling your story - the story that has haunted you and spoken to you for months, if not years. It's going great. You're making tracks. And then it happens.

Something in your head stutters and your story stumbles to a halt. And there you sit. Watching the cursor blink at you. Eventually, you imagine you hear it laughing in time with every pulse. Maybe whispering 'you suck' as it blinks. No? Just me. Huh.

Here's how to break it up, silence that cursor and get back into flow.

1. Master the mundane - find the most mind numbing household chore you can find. Get up and do it. For me, it was ironing. Hates ironing. HATES it. But. It's a mindless task of repeated motion that lulls your ego into a stupor. You may be pressing your pets by the time that happens, but when it does, tidbits of scenes, snippets of dialogue, and new story ideas will crop up because you are SO bored, your story-teller's brain will rise to rescue you.

2. Immersion - If you've exhausted yourself working in the word mines, stop. Cook supper, eat. Relax. Head to bed a few minutes early. Take a notebook and a pen with you. Not a computer. Not a tablet. Archaic tech is your friend here. Do all the things that get you ready for sleep. Then sit in bed and write. Long hand. Write about your story. Your characters. No scenes. No pressure for dialogue or situations. Write ABOUT your story. What do you want from it? What do you want to feel? What do you want the characters to feel? Do you feel like you've gone wrong? Why? Where? Ask the characters what they want. Why won't they talk to you? Do you have a plot outline? A character arc graph? Can you look at either of those and jot some notes about where you are in those documents and what has to happen to move your characters to the next step? Earphones and 30 minutes of unguided meditation piped into your brain from something like brain.fm is legal here, but not anything that will pull you out of focus. The point is to have your story on your brain when you turn out the light and go to sleep. This might take a couple of nights to kick you free. But it will.

3. Change your thinking - this has subheadings that I'm too lazy to enumerate in true a, b, c fashion. But here you go. Often when we're stuck, we're in a synaptic rut and just need a kick in the gray-matter to get imagination firing again. So first suggestion: switch your work space. Writing at home? Pick it up and go to the library. Or the coffee shop. Or a diner that will let you camp a table for an hour or two if you buy fries and a bottomless cup of coffee. See if the change of scenery doesn't shake something lose. Find a deck of tarot cards. No. I am not suggesting that you dive into the woo-woo with me. The water is fine, mostly, but this is about using the cards as story prompts, not divination. Make sure your cards have a book with them, so you can read the meanings. I usually do something like this: Tell me about the story as it stands. I lay out three cards. Then I ask what could happen next and lay out three more cards. It looks like a T laying on its side.

I am not looking for profound here. I'm looking for options. In a story that starts with someone looking for her happy place (The Sun), but buried in endless battles (9 of Wands), she's going to have to rise from the ashes and atone for who and what she's been to this point. (Judgement) What *could* happen next: The Magician at the bottom requires that she use all of her talents and skills - the light and the dark - it's a call to achieve internal balance. The next card, The World is another option - it's about having the world laid out at your feet and having to make a choice - one that will necessarily close all other options off. The final option: the 8 of Wands - just going for it. This is related to that 9 of Wands, right? It's a card about being a bull in a china shop - charging at obstacles all fired up. The problem inherent in that card is burning out before you've gotten very far. So there. One story arc. Three different ways it could go. BUT. Here's the thing. This isn't a means of figuring out what you SHOULD do. It's a means of stirring up how you think about your story and your characters. It's meant to put your brain in a Shake-n-Bake bag and toss it around so that story pieces rearrange or solidify in place as needed. It's meant to broaden your vision of your story and maybe get you to look at options you hadn't considered. 

Sure there are more tactics. But really, I've recently come to embrace the notion that I don't need to know what happens next in my story. I just write. And it is through the writing that I work out what the story wants and needs. Does it mean a lot of material that won't make the final cut? OMG, yes. But at least the writing is happening. 

And that damned cursor isn't laughing anymore. I am.