Creative Pursuits to break through The Block

I have it. The scariest thing a writer can think of, even on Halloween.

Writer's Block. *cue screams here*

If you've experienced this, then you know how frustrating it is. I have a story I need to write (the magazine editor has been waiting oh-so-patiently for it for months). The story line is plotted, the characters named, the files created. But the words won't flow. It is all stuck, like mud, in my head. Everything I write seems wooden and forced.

I've tried working on different projects. I have no shortage of ideas...they're swirling around like mist in my head (which is better than mud, I'll grant you). But again, the ideas won't translate to words on a screen.

I've been through this before and I know it will pass. But still I sit, facing the computer, playing games of solitaire or running pointless searches on Google. And with each day that ends with a pitiful word count, my self-loathing and guilt grows, the feeling that I suck at this job. The knowledge that if it were a "real" job, I would have been fired by now.

Upon reaching my lowest point, when the day came to an end and I'd accomplished nothing more than beating the computer for a sixth game of Scrabble, I knew it was time to step away from the computer and try a different approach.

I'm sure you've noticed how many writers in this blogosphere are multi-faceted when it comes to creativity. Christina Lee of Write Brained has her Tags-n-Stones jewelry line, and Jessica Bell has her beautiful music. And there have been a ton of links lately to all things gorgeous made by writers, like book purses, library necklaces, and literary recipes.

In addition to being a writer, I also make jewelry. I've been working with jewelry and polymer clay for about ten years now and teach both at the local JoAnn's Fabric and Crafts. In recent years, I've spent most of my time on preparing for my classes, rather than on the projects I enjoy. But when it became clear I needed to refocus my creative energy, I knew just what I wanted to do.

It's taken a few weeks of planning and designing and working until my fingers bleed (quite literally) but yesterday, my little Etsy shop went live: Faerie Lights Studio. I have a dozen necklaces up now, like this one here:

I'll be adding more soon, along with a line of holiday lights, like this:

Maybe nothing will come of all this, but I feel like a weight has been lifted. Deep down, there is a slow burn telling me I should be writing. But that can only be a good thing. Two weeks ago, writing felt like a chore, like an obligation. But now, writing is starting to feel like a need -- a want -- again. Sometimes, we must step away and find beauty and purpose in something else in order to find beauty and purpose in our writing.

What about you? Do you have a creative pursuit to turn to when writing gets tough?

The Point of the Journey is not to Arrive

It's 7am and I'm sitting in a silent house for the first time in eleven weeks. Finally, after a summer that involved lots of fun but very little working time, I am at my desk with a whole day of writing stretching before me. And what's the first thing I do? Start blogging. Good to know my powers of procrastination did not desert me over the summer.

This was the summer of an epic journey: a train trip from San Antonio to Saratoga. Two children, two trains, 58 hours, 2100 miles. There were family members who thought I was crazy, not understanding why I would choose to take three days to get somewhere I could reach in six hours by plane. I did it because we could and because I wanted my children to learn that the point of a journey isn't always to arrive (hmm...could make a writing/publication analogy here...will resist).

Once on the train, there was no point in worrying about the time or where we were. We had only to sit back and watch the scenery unfold. We moved between our compartment (never underestimate the magic of a bunk bed that folds down from the ceiling), the observation car, and the dining car. At each meal we were seated with someone new and my children met people from different parts of the country, all undertaking the journey for different reasons. We watched the sun go down somewhere in the piney woods and watched it come up again as we passed the St. Louis arch. And down again in Chicago. And up again on the shores of Lake Ontario.

Whenever I fly, I land with a strange sense of temporal distortion, feeling like I've left some part of myself behind. But on this trip, there was a physical transition of time and miles. Granted, when we arrived we were tired and the ground seemed to sway for a day. But it was a journey in every sense of the word.

Upon reaching our destination, we filled every moment of our vacation. In Upstate New York, we went to a farmer's market and bought handmade soap that smelled of fresh strawberries, we rode an antique carousel in a park as a couple were married at the fountain next to us, we visited my 96-year-old grandmother (who remembered us! worth the journey alone...), went fishing with big fat nightcrawlers, and spent hours enjoying the water and breezes of Lake George.

We traveled down to Long Island (again, by train along the Hudson River). We spent a day at the Museum of Natural History, went kayaking on the Sound, ate more mussels than should be legal, learned to throw pottery on the wheel, saw a nesting osprey, and spent a day getting tossed by the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

When we flew home (because I'm not that crazy), my husband asked the children what their favorite part of their vacation was. They said the train trip.

And that is the point of the journey.



And to everyone who has stopped by and commented, and to my new followers, thank you so much for visiting! Now that I'm back at my desk, I'm going to wade through the hundreds of posts on my reader and then start visiting the blogs again...

Judging a Character by a Reaction

In one week, I will be taking my children (ages 6 and 9) and heading up north to visit family. We're going to go the long way. The VERY long way... by train. That's right, a 46 hour journey from San Antonio to Saratoga.

I got two very different reactions when I shared my travel plans with the family members I'm going to visit.

Family member #1: "Are you sure? You'll be so tired when you get here. Do want some money so you could fly instead? The trains are usually late, you know. Are you sure you want to do that?"

Family member #2: "What a fantastic idea! You are going to have such an adventure. The kids will love it! I love travelling by train."

I bet you could form judgements about the speakers based just on the above reactions. And you'd probably be right. This is why dialogue is so critical in writing... it reveals SO much without having to tell the reader specifically.