In a rut with your journal writing, basically saying the same things over and over? Want to be more creative? Consider the following tips to Write Different-ly:

Upside down
In pencil
Lying on the floor
In bed
Out of bed
In the garden
At the Library
With crayons, or
pastels
Write poetry
Under a tree
in the parking strip
next to your office
With a friend
With your dog
On a swing
or slide
Watching children play
In the sandbox, or

At the beach
With paint
Watercolors
India ink
In the margins
of your newspaper
a children’s picture book
In the margins
of your favorite classic
In clay
like those fingerprints
of your youngest child
Play
is the best way
to be creative.

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Photo by Fishin Widow

Before I tell you about Scrivener, I’d like to explain why I haven’t posted during the last couple of weeks and why I’m so excited about it. I’ve been working hard, with my co-editors Kate Farrell and Linda Joy Myers, on the anthology, Times They Were A-Changing: Women Remember the ’60s & ’70s, due to launch in August. If you haven’t yet visited the anthology website, be sure to check it out.

In addition, I’m running a book cover design contest for my memoir, Not the Mother I Remember, to launch in October.  If you’d like to help me choose my book cover, keep your eyes peeled next week for the survey!

Okay, on with the show . . .

Why Literature & Latte’s Scrivener is Indispensable

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Ah, how I love Scrivener! Let me count the ways:

1. It’s feature rich, with just about everything an author could hope for. Here are just a few of Scrivener’s features:
   

   A completely rearrangeable virtual corkboard with index cards for jotting scenes and outline ideas that you can color code, key word, and add pictures to. The ability to edit multiple documents at once using “scrivenings” mode. If I’m feeling logical, I can use the Scrivener outliner, which translates directly to the index cards. I never have to lose anything I write, because I can take snapshots of each version, and compare or restore any time I want. And it’s all saved in the same document. No need to search through a folder for different versions of my work. It compiles (exports) for print, PDF, Word, text, every e-book format you can think of, and more — which means I can save money creating my own e-books. I like saving money. Research for any project can be stored within the project file, including links, references, dynamic web pages, pictures, videos, PDF and Word documents, and more. This feature alone makes Scrivener invaluable! There are special places for ideas, character and place profiles, research, and anything else I want to attach to my work. If I want to restructure my work, all I have to do is drag and drop. Done. I don’t write plays, but if I did, there’s a special Screenwriter mode. -

2. It’s flexible. I can use the program in any way that works for me, rather than having to adjust my style to adapt to the software.
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3. It’s inexpensive — all this for $45 USD? No kidding.

I used Scrivener to write my above mentioned memoir. I also keep a file for all my freewriting and personal essays organized by topic, and am currently in the process of using Scrivener to convert my writing and journaling classes to e-books. You could also use it for blog posts, journaling, or any other writing venture. Scrivener’s so flexible, exactly how you use it is up to you.

Yet even Scrivener has its cons. With all those features, it’s got a pretty steep learning curve. You can’t just pick it up and start using it like a pro. So I recommend taking a class from the (crowned by me) Scrivener Queen, Gwen Hernandez, or buy one of the many books on Scrivener listed on Literature and Latte’s website. And there’s still no tablet or phone app version, which means you’re stuck using your computer or laptop. Yes, you can sync your index cards with several apps, but that just doesn’t work for me — I want to be able to write and revise wherever I am. To their credit, the software’s programmers have been working on iOS version since early 2012. And I empathize with them; it must be extremely difficult to replicate the features of Scrivener on an iPad or iPhone. Their latest updates on the iOS version can be found on Literature and Latte’s blog.

In the balance, Scrivener weighs heavy on the advantage side of the scale and — honestly? — I think it’s a tech tool every serious writer should have in her toolbox. (I have no financial interest in Scrivener. Here’s the link to Literature & Latte if you’re interested in finding out more.)

Do you use or have you tried Scrivener? I invite you to share your experience by leaving a comment below.

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Photo Credit: Ian Sane via Compfight cc

We can’t avoid it. It’s all over the news and in conversations: wars, random shootings, gang rapes, knifings and, most recently, the Boston Marathon bombings. Violence, if we are to judge by news sources, is everywhere and could even be considered “normal.” I’ve been involved in many philosophical arguments over the years about whether or not human nature is inherently violent, and I’ve always argued that it’s not, that all the history of violence can be chalked up to social conditioning. And for the most part, I’ve been able to turn my face away from the violence of the news and toward the good being done every day.

But then something like the Boston Marathon bombing happens, and the violence is in my face. As much as I might want to, there’s no way to ignore it. The face of that precious eight-year-old boy holding a sign for peace breaks my heart, and I find myself grieving for him and his mother and father and little sister — for all of us, and for all places in the world where families are not safe.

How do we respond?  Some become fearful, point fingers at suspicious ethnic groups, get angry at our government or right-wing organizations. Some insulate themselves emotionally. Others talk about it for a while, then get lost in the day-to-day details of their lives — until the next violent act intrudes. Some of us do all of the above.

Whether we have been victims of violence or are merely sympathetic to those who have been victims, at some point violence — distant or up close and personal — forces its way into our lives. It alters the way we see the world, and we can no longer shield ourselves from the pain.

What then? How do we make sense of the senseless?

One of the reasons I write is to make sense of life, to process what I see and hear and feel, and to understand how to make choices that will best serve me and my loved ones as I go forward. For me, journaling is always a first step toward understanding.

Today, I want to share with you a week’s worth of journaling prompts in the form of sentence starters. These prompts may help you process and heal from the pain of violence. Use one sentence starter each day. Complete the sentence at least five times, going deeper each time and then continue writing about that sentence starter until you feel you’ve expressed everything you can about it.

1. I believe violence occurs in the world because …
2. My first response to violence is … Then, I …
3. The kinds of violence that affect me most are … because …
4. Violence toward others triggers my memories of …
5. The reason I’m writing about this topic at this time is …
6. I believe the best way to reduce or stop violence is to …
7. I can heal the violence in my life by …

I invite you to share your perspective and add to the conversation by adding a comment below.
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Photo Credit: LINUZ90 via Compfight

At some point in her career, every writer attempts to answer the question, “Why do I write?” My answer has always been: I have no idea — no explanation, no justification, no purpose beyond the moment of my finished work. But now the question won’t leave me alone; it’s in my face demanding a response. Why do I write? The clichéd answer (because I must) comes first to mind, and there is truth to it.

I can’t seem to not write, no matter how tired or bored I am with my efforts. My mind fills, overflows, gushes, stores, and flushes words. There seems to be no end to the rush and flow of language, a waterfall of thought swirling around in the pool of my mind before continuing downstream, where it exits via my mouth or my pen.

If I’m lucky, I catch a few words and string them together to construct something meaningful, much like building a paper chain, the kind we used to make from colored strips of paper. Words are like these strips. You have to bend them, glue the ends together, connect them through the loops of other words. But still, it’s not that simple.

Why do I have this urge to analyze, comprehend, and verbalize all I see and feel? Unlike other writers I know, I have no burning message, no grand illusion of inspiration or greater calling — most often I don’t even know what I want to say — and yet I have this compulsion that forces my pen across the page, or fingers over the keyboard. It’s as though I don’t know what I think until after I’ve spoken or written it down.  I have no illusions that what I write is the Truth.

I have wondered if my urge to write is a narcissistic indulgence, a case of wanting to hear my own voice, of falling in love with a reflected image of Self. Or nervous compulsion, the symptom of an overwrought mind. Either or both of these could be true. But my need to write feels like more than that; it impels me forward. I want to make matter of the ethereal, to bring thought into being, just as the gods and goddesses of ancient myth brought all of creation into being with their words.They formed creatures from stories, and gave humans the capacity to make stories of their own.

So, I have come to believe that everything is story. Life is story. Death is story.  Ideas are stories. Fiction and nonfiction are rooted in the same imagination and borrow from each other. (Can you spare a cup of dialogue?) Story helps me understand the past and present and anticipate the future.

Maybe the simplest answer to why I write is that I feel most at home in my skin when I am playing with words, forming phrases as the Cheshire Cat formed wispy O’s from smoke. And, in spite of writing’s trials and tribulations and sweat and angst and self-doubt and self-deprecation and desperation, I am the most Me when I write. Simply put, writing brings me joy.

And that is why I write.

Why do you write? Please share your story, leave a comment.

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Photo Credit:milos milosevic via Compfight cc

Go where the pain is. I’m on a flight from Oakland, CA to Phoenix, AZ when I read these words in an article by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni*. It’s not that I haven’t heard this saying before. I have. Even Banerjee was paraphrasing a writing teacher she once had. Yet I feel a surge of excitement and recognition almost spiritual in nature.

Banerjee goes on: Stories are for understanding the nuances of life, for empathizing with characters in spite of — or perhaps because of — their exasperating frailty. …Your real-life conflicts are full of riches to be mined.

I agree.

In Confessions of a Story Writer (1946), Paul Gallico wrote**, It is only when you open your veins and bleed onto the page a little that you establish contact with your reader. Perhaps, this is also how we establish contact with ourselves.

If we are to bring to life our stories, we must write into and through our pain rather than around it. This is particularly true of memoir. If we are to write the truth of our lives onto the page, we must be willing to face and embrace painful memories of traumatic events, difficult relationships, abuse, poverty, and shame. We must be willing to walk directly into our own darkness, open, vulnerable, unshielded, and with a desire to be transformed in the process.

It is this very transformation that molds story from the raw material of experience.

Our most compelling personal stories lie in our conflicts with others and in the pain of relationships. We must be willing to explore these relationships with curiosity and a desire to see ourselves — and life itself — through others’ eyes. Unless we are courageous enough to write into the pain of these relationships, we may not be able to express the truth of them. Instead, our portrayals will be one-sided, shallow, and ring false.

But writing through pain is not an easy task; pain avoidance is a natural and reasonable response. Many times I’ve sat down to write about something difficult and ended up skirting around my subject, never managing to do more than pick gently at an old wound.

What’s a writer to do? How do we get past our own disinclination?

There are many journaling techniques that can help; the trick is to experiment and find out which ones work best for you. These techniques include, but are not limited to:

• Ginormous lists (lists of 100 and more)
• Creative clustering
• Writing in 3rd person POV (brings distance to the subject)
• Fictionalizing (distance and imagination)
• Letter writing
• Written or recorded dialogue with the person or situation.

Sometimes, I need to use several of these techniques before I am able to get past my defenses and reveal the core of my story. I have also found that writing through my pain and into transformation not only deepens my story, it changes and heals me in the process.

What’s your opinion and experience about this subject? Please share by leaving a comment.

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* “The Novelist’s Guide to Writing What (Only) You Know,” Writer’s Digest, March/April 2013
** This saying is often misattributed to Ernest Hemingway.

Photo by Jeffrey James Pacres

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Evernote isn’t perfect, and it has limitations, but it’s probably my most-used app at this time for journaling, freewriting, capturing ideas, and writing blog posts. Here’s why:

• The Evernote app is free
• It’s on all my devices — my computer, my iPhone, and my iPad, AND in the cloud (the Internet)
• It syncs seamlessly and automatically between all my devices
• It’s easy to organize different notebooks for different purposes
• It’s versatile, allowing me to capture web pages, research, pdf’s, photography, video, and sound recordings, all in one place

Of these reasons, the fact that Evernote syncs my notebooks to all devices and the cloud without my thinking about it or initiating the sync is the most compelling. If I write anything in Evernote, it’s immediately accessible to me elsewhere. For someone who is constantly on the run, this feature overrides Evernote’s weaknesses: it has limited formatting options (for example, I have no control over line spacing or number and bullet formatting); I can’t zoom in or out to change the view — if I want to see larger type, I have to change the font size; Evernote does not sync with my WordPress site, as MacJournal does; and I can group notebooks only into two levels. But these are limitations I’m willing to accept all for the convenience of that unthinking sync.

The difference is the cloud. MacJournal and many other journaling apps, though available on my computer and IOS devices, do not exist on the cloud. If I want to sync my devices, I have to open the app and tell it to sync. For example, if I create an entry on my iPad, it will not show up on my computer without first ensuring that both are on the same network and then launching a sync command. In contrast, Evernote syncs my iPad with the cloud version and the next time I open the app — on any of my devices or computer — my entry is already there and waiting for me to read, edit, or continue writing.

And, perhaps best of all, I can access my work from any computer that is connected to the internet. Evernote on the Web constantly updates all of my computers and devices with the latest versions of my notes.

Do you use Evernote? If so, how do you use it? If you’ve not heard of or used Evernote, try it out and then let me know what you think. Here’s the link: evernote.com.

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One of the reasons we journal is to hold onto significant events in our lives. If you also use your journals as resources for memoir writing, you’ll want to go beyond recording the basic event and your reactions (John and I had a big fight tonight. I’m sick and tired of the way we are together) to describing the scene in which it occurs.

Think of yourself as the screenwriter of your own life, capturing in your journal the true drama and comedy of your life as it unfolds. When you eventually write that memoir or personal essay, your readers will want to be anchored in the where and when the action takes place. And, believe me, it’s much easier to describe and set a scene in writing when the details are still fresh in your mind, than it is later, when you are trying to recall everything from memory.

When you journal with memoir writing in mind, you don’t need to write everything out in narrative form, worry about syntax, grammar, spelling, or writing full sentences. You’re capturing the event for future development, so it’s fine to jot down your impressions in shorthand. Use any form you want: lists, short notes, drawings, and pictures glued into or attached to your journal entry.

Let me give you an example. Let’s say you are journaling about your daughter’s wedding. Here are some things you’ll want to capture:

• When was the event? You’ll want to make sure you record not just the date, but also the day of the week (Friday evening? Saturday afternoon?), and the season (a sultry summer wedding? a winter wedding?)
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• What was the weather like? For some events, this won’t matter. For others, especially outdoor events, describing the scene includes describing the weather: the sense of heat/cold (Was everyone perspiring in the hot sun as they waited for the bride to appear? Did a breeze knock over the flower display on the outdoor altar?), wind/breeze, cloudy/sunny, and so on.
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• What did the scene look like? Think about the size of the space (a room? a field? tight? expansive?), the furnishings, if any, the shapes of things, the colors of things and people. In your mind’s eye, do a 360 degree visual review of the event and write down everything you can remember.
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• Who was there? No scene is complete without a cast of characters. As you’re listing the cast, take a few moments to describe or list what they were wearing, physical features, moods, character-defining gestures or expressions — anything you may have noticed about them. Was Aunt Nancy’s wig askew? Grandma Corker carrying her cane? Do you have snapshots? If so paste one or two into your journal.
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• Bring in the other senses. At a wedding, the flowers’ scents may have been powerful, or the mingling of perfumes overwhelming. What about the food? And sounds . . . were birds chirping in the background? If the wedding was held near the ocean, did the pounding of the surf make it difficult to hear? In the city, did sirens interrupt the wedding sermon?

Once the scene is recorded, the action can begin. As you list actions, continue to think about the scene. Does it change in any way? (Clouds covered the sun, just as the wedding vows were spoken.) Make notes of these changes as you are writing.

At first, setting the scene as you journal will take extra time. But as you get used to integrating this practice into your daily journal writing, it will become automatic. And when you eventually sit down to write that memoir, you’ll have a rich source of information waiting for your creative touch.
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Photo by John W. Iwanski via Compfight

Stream of Consciousness Writing begins with a simple breath meditation, after which you write associatively, allowing your words to meander along connected images, feelings, and memories. It’s not a timed process and is even less structured than freewriting,  facilitating a kind of subconscious  “mind dump” onto the page. In fact, it’s best to do Stream of Consciousness Writing when you’re not under the pressure of an immediate deadline.

The purpose of the Breath Meditation is to help you slow down, center in your physical body, and focus on the task of writing. (Instructions for the breath meditation are below the fold.)

You may have a topic in mind before you begin, or you may choose to let a topic emerge while you are meditating.

Guidelines

• Write by hand. If you’re used to writing on the computer, like I am, you may initially feel some resistance to this guideline. Handwriting slows us down, helps us maintain a meditative frame of mind, and keeps the intuitive, subconscious part of our brain engaged. Keyboarding, on the other hand, lends itself to linear thinking.
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• Be patient with yourself and don’t expect any great insights or “ah-ha” moments right away. This type of writing takes some practice.
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• Allow your thoughts to go where they will. For example, if you are writing about the time you fell into a creek as a child, and you begin writing with an image of a floating branch, and the image of the floating branch stirs a memory of the time you went camping with Uncle Henry, allow yourself to write about the camping experience, and so on.

Instructions for Breath Meditation

I’m providing the following instructions for those who are not already familiar and comfortable with meditating on the breath. If you have a method you prefer to use, please feel free to use it. Read the instructions all the way through before proceeding.

1. If you wish, put on some quiet, gentle classical or instrumental (not vocal) music.
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2. Sit, not lie, in a comfortable position and close your eyes.
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3. Take a deep breath, hold it … then release. As you release your breath feel your feet and toes relax.
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4. Take another deep breath, hold it, and release, this time, feeling your calves relax.
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5. Continue to take deep, cleansing, releasing breaths, working your way up the body.
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6. Feel your knees, thighs, hamstrings, buttocks, low back, upper back, shoulders, arms, hands and fingers, neck, face, and brow all relax, one by one, with each breath.
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7. When you feel completely relaxed and centered, imagine you are staring into a thick, white fog. All you see is white. Stay here until a thought or image comes to mind.
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8. If you had a writing topic in mind when you began, notice what related image or thought arises. For example, if you began by thinking you wanted to write about a particular event in your life, notice what sensory memory comes to mind: an image, a remembered smell, a sound, a feeling of something against your skin.
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9. When you are ready, open your eyes, and write, beginning with that image or sensory detail.

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If you struggle with journaling on a regular basis, or your journaling feels parched of life, as though instead of writing about your day you’re attempting to cross an entire desert, stop. Instead of pushing forward, filled with a thirst to do something “writerly,” break out of your routine by taking a sensuality break. Yes, I do mean sensuality.

You can inspire creativity and stimulate animated, lively writing simply by turning away from boring routines and paying attention to the world in which you live — of course, the best way to do that is through the senses.

Here are three simple ways to inspire your journal writing:

1. Get outdoors. Take a walk, visit your local park, or find a peaceful place in your yard. Find a place to sit and close your eyes. Take a couple of deep, slow breaths, and then —without opening your eyes — take note of everything you hear, smell, and feel. Are insects buzzing near you? Is it cold, wet, crisp? Are birds singing or rustling in the nearby brush? Squirrels chattering? What fragrances linger in the air? Traffic sounds and smells? What about the sun or the feel of the breeze on your skin? Just sit and notice everything you can for about five minutes (set a timer before you begin). Now, open your journal and describe everything you can remember, as vividly as possible.
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2. Take a food break. We all love to eat, and this sensual inspiration can take any form you wish, from a simple coffee break to a full feast. If you are drinking something, notice the weight and form of the cup or glass in your hand. Feel the sensation of the edge of it against your lips. Is the liquid cool or hot? Does the steam rise into your face, or bubbles tickle your nose? Feel the fork or spoon in your hand, the force applied to cut or scoop or skewer the food. Notice how it feels in your mouth. Does your mouth water? Can you roll the food around in your mouth? Is it sweet, salty, or sour? What are your surroundings like? Take note of and savor every sensory moment of your food break. When you are done, open your journal and write.
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3. Appreciate art. Visit a museum, stand in front of a local sculpture, or revisit a piece of art in your home. Let your eyes and, if it’s a sculpture that’s okay to touch, your hands, take in the shapes, colors, textures of the art. Notice the way your eyes follow the form. Notice any emotions or thoughts evoked by the art. Observe the surroundings in which the art is placed. How does it fit or not fit? After a minimum of five minutes of observation, taking in as many details as possible, open your journal and write a description of the piece of art and any emotions, thoughts, or memories it evoked.

Now it’s your turn. Share what you wrote after your sensuality break — or tell us what helps bring creativity back into your writing.

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If someone were to ask you what your most important life lessons have been, what would you say? And why?

The first question occurred to me recently in response to a writing prompt about losing and finding, or loss and gain. And I was surprised to discover that it was easier for me to write about what I’ve lost than to write about what I’ve found. Easier to write about pain than joy, tragedy over triumph. Perhaps that’s because I discount my accomplishments, tending to focus instead on my failures, on dreams discarded like old clothing because they don’t fit anymore, and on the pain of endings instead of the excitement of beginnings.

I know I’m not alone in this, because I’ve talked to so many writers and journalers who feel compelled to write when things go wrong, rather than when things go right.

Then — still in response to the writing prompt — when I attempted to focus on what I’ve found, my life’s lessons bubbled to the surface. Hard-earned wisdom that I’d want to share with my children and grandchildren, if they cared to listen. Hard-earned, but not always the result of pain, for I have found that life’s wisdom comes as much from joy as it does from grief. Or perhaps it’s the contrast between the two that teaches us so much.

What about you?

I invite you to use this week’s journaling prompts to help focus your thoughts on what you’ve learned and distill that wisdom for others:

1. Brainstorm a list of at least 50 of your life’s lessons. (Yes, you do have that many — maybe more.) Include the mundane (Every day, tell your children you love them) with the profound (Recognizing our own mistakes helps us be more compassionate toward others). It may help to begin each sentence with, “I have learned …”
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2. If you could pass on only five bits of wisdom from your list, which five would they be? Circle them and rewrite each at the top of a new page in your journal.
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3. For each of the five lessons you selected, freewrite for five minutes. You don’t have to do this all in one session. Choose one to write about each day. Or draw a creative cluster followed by a five-minute freewriting session. You might want to consider why these five are so important to you and what you did or experienced to learn them.
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4. Using one of your lessons from your brainstormed list (it doesn’t have to be one of your top five), finish the sentence, “When I realized ___________, my life changed in the following ways: …”
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5. If someone had shared this wisdom with you when you were young, would you have listened? Why or why not?
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6. Did (or do) you have someone in your life who gave you the benefit of his or her life’s lessons? If so, describe this person and how you interacted with each other. Write a scene in dialogue to bring his or her voice alive again. If you didn’t have anyone in your life like that, did you wish you did? Did you seek out a good friend or mentor or idol to fill this need for wisdom? Or did you go it alone?
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7. Who do you want to pass your wisdom to? Write a letter to one or more of those people, explaining that you hope to give them the benefit of one of your life’s lessons. Tell them what it is, how you learned it, and how you hope it will help them in their lives. You may choose to send your letters, or put them in an envelope to save with your journals.

Now that you’ve thought and written about it, do you have some wisdom you’d like to share with us? Please leave a comment.

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Photo Credit: h.koppdelaney via Compfight
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