Just Write!

In November of 2012 I participated in NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. The goal was to write the first draft of a novel, defined as 50,000 words, in thirty days. That breaks down to 1,667 words per day. An idea for a novel had popped into my head one day in late August. In September, while vacationing with my son and dogs on Bald Head Island, North Carolina, I did the character development and a general plot outline.

So when November 1st, the first day of NaNoWriMo and also my birthday, rolled around I was ready. Over thinking and striving for perfection can derail writing. This process allows no time for either of those. One has to let go and just write, write, write. There is no stopping to look something up or rethink the structure of a sentence. There is no time to seek that perfect word or phrase. To get the job done you have to sit down and just plow through.

I learned if I had two possible directions to go to just pick one and go there. And if that didn't feel right when I got through it to just grab that other direction and write from there. I did not delete any wrong turns or less than lovely sentences; I just wrote.

And amazing things happened. The more I wrote the more the words came. A new character appeared. A new plot line emerged. Dialogue flowed. Now was all of this golden? Of course not! But as I kept going I stopped worrying about it and just wrote.

I had two goals. I wanted to get to 50,000 words and I wanted a draft that had a beginning, middle, and an end. So I planned that when I got to 40,000 words I would begin to craft an ending. I was not completely successful. I ended up with three possible endings and wrote them all. I finished the challenge early, on Thanksgiving Day, and submitted my 51, 516 words to join the winner's circle.

I let it sit for a week or so and then read the draft. The good news is that I liked it, a lot. How did that happen? How did some fine writing come from this crazy process? Yet, there it was.

Not all of it was good. Some I just cut. Some I realized was probably the basis of another novel, a different story. There were gaps in the story line. I had vacillated between first person and third person. I experimented with using multiple points of view. In other words, lots of work to do!

I needed some motivation to move to the next step and found it in Camp NaNoWriMo. While NaNoWriMo specifies that you begin a new novel, Camp NaNo is designed for works in progress.  I set a goal of 25,000 new words to fill in the gaps and flesh out the story. At 25,621 new words, I did it!  I can proudly add a Camp NaNoWriMo winner badge.  I'm planning to go to camp again when it is offered in July with the goal of polishing this draft to the point where I can give it to some trusted readers for feedback.

If you're a writer and looking for a process to fuel your work, I recommend this. Check it out at  NaNoWriMo and just write!

Fontanelle, Rome’s Little Fountains

I love travel. I love being in a new place and discovering what makes it unique, its specific charm. One of my favorite quotes is, “Travel is the one thing you buy in life that makes you richer.” Today I am feeling very rich indeed.

I’ve just spent a lovely week in Rome. It was not my first visit there and as I was meeting some friends to write; I was not focused on the tourist high points, amazing as they are, but rather on feeling like a Roman going about my daily work.

It was about a two-mile walk from my hotel in the Veneto area to my writing group at University of Washington University Rome Center near Campo dei Fiori,  just a few minutes from the Tiber River.

As I knew I would be indulging in delicious Italian cuisine all week, I vowed to walk to and from Campo dei Fiori to burn some extra calories. Walking and writing... bliss! The weather was glorious, sunny and in the seventies. I had a date with some friends at Mercato Hostaria on the campo the night before the group was to meet. This was an opportunity to familiarize myself with some walk routes and time it so I could arrive promptly the next day.

I purchased a bottle of water to store in my backpack for the walk. When I got to the restaurant, within view from our al fresco seats I could see a small fountain, nothing pretty or elaborate, with water running continuously from a down spout. As I watched, people refilled their water bottles. The vendors from the square were also filling buckets to use in their booths. Upon inquiry, our waitperson declared the water not only safe to drink but delicious. I had to try this. Not only was the water good, it was icy cold! It was not necessary to buy bottled water. 

I began to look for other fontanelle, “little fountain,” and realized they were everywhere, most are iron containers with a plain metal down spigot but some are more decorative. There are about 2,500 in Rome. The photo at the top is my personal favorite located a few steps off Campo dei Fiori on one of the charming side streets. I think the animal head is a boar.

The other name for the fountain is nasoni, “big nose”, a reference to the shape of the metal spigot. You can cover the bottom, nostril if you will, with your thumb or palm and the water will spurt through a hole in the top making a drinking fountain for those without bottles to fill.

Given the drought in many parts of the USA, I was amazed by the constantly flowing water. I was glad to learn the water is recycled. The elaborate fountains in Rome, such as Fontana di Trevi and Fontana del Pantheon get their water from aquifers as well. The height or force of the fountain spray is related to the gravity available, depending on the source for the water. Trevi was deliberately sunken to allow for more gravity and a higher spray. The fountain near the Pantheon has a gentler flow. Fascinating!

Trevi Fountain

Fountain at the Pantheon

If you are fortunate enough to visit the Eternal City, don’t hesitate to refresh yourself with a drink of icy cold, delicious water from a nasoni, a unique Roman pleasure. And then have another drink for me!

Ciao!

Winter Be Gone!

Although it is officially spring, Dayton is covered in snow. I've been away from this blog since November first when I began participation in NaNoWriMo National Novel Writing Month. I've also been doing some extensive traveling in the past year: Cuba, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong and will be in Rome in April. With the travel, finishing the draft of my first novel,  following my beloved Dayton Flyers basketball team and then the NCAA beginning rounds here in Dayton, I've been neglecting my blog. I'm happy to be back and will do some catch up posting on my travel and writing experiences to get back in the blogging groove.

When all this snow arrived I decided I needed a dose of spring, set out to find some pansies to buy, and saw this sign. This was just the booster shot I needed. I got my free pack and purchased several more. When the snow melts I'll plant them in a large pot by my front door but for today they are braving the snow surrounding a garden stone I made. Enjoy!

Reasons to Be Happy

Katrina Kittle takes on big issues in her novels. I've blogged about her previous book The Blessings of the Animals, tackling grief and healing post divorce. Her three prior novels dealt with AIDS, child abuse, and  deceit. Reasons to Be Happy is her first book for younger readers and I wondered if she would stay true to her big issue pattern. I was not disappointed. Addiction, in the form of bulimia, is the core of this story but it is beautifully and skillfully imbedded in a tale of conflict with parents, dealing with mean girls and peer pressure, first love, and staying true to one's self.  So how do these serious issues end up being such an engaging and uplifting book? 

Well, the main character, 8th grader Hannah, kept a list in a purple journal of her Reasons to Be Happy.   This list gives us insight into Hannah before she changed schools, before her mother became sick, before she lost bits of herself to peer pressure. By the end of the book, she has traveled full circle back to herself. Along the way she meets a young man passionate about music and secure in himself, orphans in Ghana who teach her about what matters, and artists young and old dedicated to their craft. Each meeting reminds her of parts of herself that she has abandoned and gradually reclaims. 

We are a culture that reveres thin. Pressure to be thin begins young and continues... forever. We are so concerned with "outside" that often who we are is lost. It is all about how we look. It is heartbreaking to realize how objectified women are. And it's not just the males who are doing this. We do it to ourselves. How many catty remarks do women make about other women's weight? How much time is wasted worrying about how much we weigh? What if we devoted that time to creative pursuits?  What could we accomplish? What problems could be solved? The basic fear is... Am I good enough? We are looking for validation outside our selves. 

Addiction is about numbing pain, tamping down fear. The market is saturated with books, television shows, and magazine articles proposing that food is often the legal "drug" used to achieve this. It seems the more we focus on losing weight, the heavier we are all becoming. I'd so love it if we could accept and value each person for who she, or he, is. Unconditional love and acceptance, now there would be a wonderful reason to be happy.

Hello Beautiful!

August 1, 2010

The Story Circle Network invites women to write for their blog One Woman's Day. They describe the blog this way:
Today a woman somewhere is laughing, weeping, grieving, or celebrating. Someone is giving birth; someone is losing a loved one to death. Relationships are forming, others are ending. For some this will be an ordinary day filled with many of the same activities as yesterday. For others, something unexpected will suddenly make this day unforgettable, one that they may tell their children and grandchildren about in the future. In the same way that we are curious about how our grandmothers lived, future generations will be interested in learning about what an ordinary day was like in our lives.

One year ago I was visiting Siesta Key Florida and had one of those days. I wrote the blog post, submitted it,  and pretty much forgot about it. I was surprised and delighted to start receiving responses to that post while I am again in Siesta Key. Please click on this link to read my post at One Woman's Day.

Yesterday I did a yoga class on the beach with my god daughter. The sun was warm on my skin, the sand was soft under my mat, and the waves and sea birds provided mood music. I felt comfortable and confident in my body and, yes, beautiful.

Siesta Key Beach 2011

Storm Body

Judy Abrahamson (writing)

Hurricane Faye

Wind
Refreshing, caressing
Blowing acceptance over naked skin
Lightning overhead, surf below
Healing coolness all around
I am at peace
My body is my own.

Judy Abrahamson

I met this poet several years ago when she shared Hurricane Faye at a writing workshop. I was just beginning this journey to connect with my body and her poem struck a deep chord. It made me cry. I loved it so much that I asked her to submit it to Story Circle Network's annual anthology True Words from Real Women, 2008. I was editor that year with my dear friend and fellow writer Becca Taylor.

What resonated most was the line, "My body is my own." I was feeling so bad about myself and my body. So unloved, so rejected, and so disconnected. That wild hurricane, her oneness with it, the peace of laying claim to her own body made me aware of what I didn't have and what I both want and need. It is a long journey from living and being mostly for someone else to recognizing and honoring myself. To knowing my own beauty and value. To claiming my own power. It is not an easy journey. It is not quick. It is not finished. But words like these heal and encourage and inspire.

When ever a storm rolls through Ohio, accompanied by thunder and lightning and wind, I remember this poem. And I take time to connect with my own storm body, to appreciate who I am and who I am becoming.

Star Blogger Award

Since 2006 I have been privileged to be a member of the Story Circle Network. Mystery author and memoirist Susan Wittig Albert founded SCN in 1997 as an organization dedicated to helping women share the stories of their lives and to raising public awareness of the importance of women's personal histories. SCN's website, publications, classes, and reading and writing circles connect and encourage women writers world wide. Click here to check out all SCN has to offer. 

I began blogging on November 1, 2010, my sixtieth birthday. I was shy about my efforts. I know some of the finest bloggers on the Internet. I was also insecure about my technology skills. I did not share my blog until January of this year so I am still very much a novice. You can imagine my delight when SCN, an organization of talented creative women, recognized my work with their Star Blogger award. 

There is no need to worry that I will get the "big head" over this. It took me two weeks to figure out how to get the badge, above in today's post and forever on the right side bar, imported onto my site! As is often the case for me, the solution was simple once I knew what it was... ah technology!

I was concerned that blogging would detract from my memoir writing. Not so, blogging is such a pleasure that it gives me added zest and inspiration. It has also led me back to a long dormant interest in photography. 

The most rewarding aspect of blogging is membership in another Internet community to support and encourage my creativity. 

Thanks Story Circle Network for the cyber home, for connecting me with amazing women writers, for inspiration, for encouragement, and for my Star Blogger recognition!

Lifelong Learning

I think I'm in love. I'm facilitating (they say moderating) a seminar, Let Me Tell You about the Time: An Introduction to Lifewriting at the University of Dayton Lifelong Learning Institute. This is my first time volunteering to moderate a seminar. In the past, I've taught students from preschool age to the doctoral level so I'm comfortable teaching. But this is a teaching situation distinct from all my prior experience.

You must be fifty years of age or older to attend UDLLI. There are no assignments and no grades. People register for seminars based on their interests, period. And, if the seminar is not what they expected, they simply withdraw. Attendance is not mandatory; several folks told me on the very first day which of the six sessions they would miss. I was a bit jealous when I learned these missed classes frequently involved travel, often to warm, sunny places. These are lovely, well-educated, sophisticated men and women. While exceedingly polite, they make it quite clear what they are willing or not willing to do for the class.

At first I worried about this new paradigm. Learning for leaning's sake? Taking a seminar as much for the social interaction as for the topic? Once I relaxed a bit I found this the most refreshing and invigorating atmosphere. My original plan was to have everyone complete at least one life story and then publish an anthology of these stories at the end of the six weeks. Um, no. Some folks wanted their story in a handwritten document. Some wanted it typed but not published. Some wanted to incorporate photos and artifacts. Some wanted to write for their own pleasure and did not particularly care about sharing their writing. But what stories they have to tell! The eight men and six women, ranging in age from fifty-seven to late eighties, are writing about life experiences that keep me captivated each and every Tuesday.

Class thus far has included some strategy tips, some writing prompts, and some time to write followed by sharing. My favorite part of the two hour class is when they read from their work. Each sharing prompts a flood of responses and questions from the group. Their descriptions of the setting and era of the tale combined with the experience they chose to share fold us all into the memory.

Last week they brought photographs and mementoes that related to their story. One gentleman had pictures of himself right after enlistment and right after returning from battle. What a story those pictures told. One class member brought in some 45 rpm records from his collection and explained how you could tell the age of the record from the label design. Plus, oh those songs! Made me want to jump up and dance. One beautiful album with a hand tooled leather cover showed a class member's parents from their wedding through her early years. Another person's photo of himself dressed as Santa with his granddaughter was the spring board for the tale of how he first began to dress as Santa, in a costume made by his wife, and how that lead to years of Santa experiences.

This week, we are going to play with six word memoirs. I introduced the concept last class so folks could think ahead. One of the men immediately composed a five word memoir. A classmate promptly jumped in with the sixth word for a perfect finish and a roar of laughter and approval from us all. I'm looking forward to the next session to hear what else is composed.

I have no idea what the finished class projects will be. Each person's product, if any, will reflect his or her desire. I only know that I have fallen in love with a vibrant group of writers who are taking me to school as to what really matters and I am so grateful!