Maybe when the time is...WRITE!

Writer’s Guilt (No, that’s not supposed to be guild)

kindalikeapoet — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 21:32:00 +0000

You know what it is. You said you were going to write but hit the snooze button. You chose to watch prime-time TV instead. You were surely going to write after…you did the dishes, laundry, got groceries…and so on.

Today, my writer’s guilt was planted in a small patch of oversleeping coupled with morning pages for an Artist Workshop. Morning pages is still writing, yes, but not so much on the specific project. I’ve been doing really well with my editing and writing daily so it shouldn’t sidetrack me to miss this morning…

BUT:

Doesn’t it feel bad not to write? Especially when you promised yourself you were going to? It makes me feel like I forgot to comb my hair or zip my fly or feed the cats…oh, God. I hope I fed them this morning (just kidding, I did, of course.)

Will I write tonight? Probably. But morning writing is so much better because it sets the tone for your day. Morning writing keeps you motivated about your project and excited to get back to it.

Does anyone else feel this way or is it just me? What are your writing commitments like?

Do share.

Be well and write on,

Rachael

Eat, sleep, shower, dress, laugh, work…write.

kindalikeapoet — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 16:26:07 +0000

My mom used to always say, “Eat right, sleep right and exercise.” I know I mentioned this in another post, but writing must also be included in that list of essentials for mental and physical health. It’s interesting how we can convince ourselves that the dishes or the litter box or the bills should come before our writing. That I’ll write “after I balance my checkbook, take the dog out…” and so on. First, let me tell you that balancing your check book (especially if you’re me, math-challenged and living on a low budget) is the biggest writing buzz kill ever. It’s the farthest thing from creative, unless of course kiting checks counts as a craft.

But seriously, I also don’t believe in “writer’s block.” Sure, you might be struggling with a plot line, a troubling character or a time sequence, but that does not mean the writing ceases. Write THROUGH it. If you arrive at the page every day (or as often as you can) the writing will happen. Norman Mailer once said something to the order of “When you tell your brain you’re going to write in the morning, get up and meet the page. The writing will come. By making that appointment, your brain is already getting ready for it. All you have to is meet it there.”

I have found this to be true. Likewise, I have felt the residual guilt of hitting the snooze button. It follows me through my workday. Sometimes I feel like I broke a valued object or a promise to a friend. The act of NON-WRITING is frustrating. It’s distracting, uncomfortable and sometimes upsetting. But when you do write, and write often, you know the elation. I felt that this morning as I was editing my memoir.
I was on a roll this week, truly having faith in my story. Now that I’ve given it daily and consistent attention, I’m more than half way through what I call the “final” edit.

Sure, it needs more eyes, more edits, but by “final” edit, I mean it’s ready to leave the nest and find its homeland (hopefully print, in some form, preferably selling enough to relinquish my insane student loan deficit.) But I’ve discovered, this last week, that writing and working on this project has become as necessary as eating or sleeping or showering. I don’t feel good if I don’t do it, and, though it has become a necessity in ways, I look forward to it and feel great once I do it.

Some keys to stay motivated: never stop when you’re stuck. Stop when you’re on a roll so you’ll stay enthused about it. Also, make notes for next time so you can pick right back up. For example: edit chapter twenty, then go back to the doctor scene in Richmond, etc.

If you don’t have a writers’ group, go form one. It helps to have a routine meeting with like-minded writers to keep you honest, give you feedback and keep you motivated. You’re writing for yourself, of course, but these meetings will help you stay focused. You don’t want to let your writer friends down, now do you? True. But it feels worse to hit snooze, roll over, let another day pass where your ideas bunch up like a bad pair of underwear…right?

Be well and keep writing!

Rachael

Call to write

kindalikeapoet — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 15:14:04 +0000

Doesn’t it feel good to write? I got sick, unmotivated, lost in the shuffle of my January days and stopped writing. Yesterday, I got up at 5:30, turned on the coffee pot and wrote for a good hour before the work routine.

Mom always told me to be happy you have to “eat right, sleep right and exercise.” I agree, only revising her mantra for me to “Eat: Write. Sleep: Write. Exercise. Write.” And listen to music as often as possible, of course. These are the elements that sustain me.

Not writing is like walking with no legs or, forgive me, being constipated. It makes you feel bad in body and emotion.

That is why, even though what we writers do is a solitary act, we need a writing community, or at least a handful of writer friends, to keep us accountable and to encourage us.

A friend of mine, Ally, often hosts “virtual writing events” on Facebook. It’s not a competition, rather it is a call to encourage us to pick up the pen or the iPad or to go sit at our desks and release. Even if what we write is crap, or we think it’s crap, it just feels damn good to write.

So, won’t you join me? From now until Sunday: write daily. Commit to a goal.

Here’s mine: I will edit at least three more chapters of the memoir and give life to two poems.

Tell me what you’re conjuring up.

Be well, be good to yourselves, and keep writing.

Rachael

The Great Big No

kindalikeapoet — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 17:23:43 +0000

I’ve noticed how my two blogs will often coincide. I spoke on Unsung Throes about The Lemonheads and how their song “The Great Big No” helped me recently deal with another rejection of my work. Fortunately, all of my rejections thus far have been kind.

I once learned my lesson, however, with “asking what could have made it a yes” with an application to a graduate school that shall remain unnamed. The Dean of the school tore my credentials and writing samples apart. It was almost enough to reduce my writing psyche to nothing, but thankfully, I prevailed and was warmly welcomed to Wilkes University’s low-res Creative Writing program. There, they thought highly of my writing and the possibilities for my future as a professional writer.

That being said, this recent rejection wasn’t unkind but it came on a week where everything felt like it was falling apart: lack of sleep, disagreement with a friend, unnerving doubt about something, looming student loans, etc.

For a writer who has always been a writer, the last four times I have submitted work I’ve been told no. Each no was polite but, like any writer, caused me pouty, “Why doesn’t anyone like my writing?” moments.

Teach while you write is the resounding advice. I’ve seen these perfect teaching gigs and they all start with, “Must have a strong record of publications” or “must have at least one significant publication.” So how do I advance in my writing career if I don’t have any (nationally recognized) publications?

Well, for one, I keep writing. That is my advice to any struggling writer. It isn’t that you’re not good at what you do, necessarily. It is, perhaps, that the right audience hasn’t discovered you yet and vice versa. Keep looking for them. I have faith that mine is out there somewhere.

In the meantime, thanks for reading/listening/supporting me here. My blogging audience is small but loyal and I thank you all. You might be the push I need to make it in the writing world.

Be well, keep your chin up and keep writing.

Rachael

Enjoy? The Silence.

kindalikeapoet — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 22:27:06 +0000

Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this on a sick day because everything is heightened even though it should be dulled. I opened my email to read the first lines from a place I submitted a poem to, recently. The opener said, “Dear Rachael, I’m so sorry not to have gotten back to you sooner…” and for some reason, I thought that would be followed with GOOD NEWS. Much to my chagrin: NO. It was not. It was yet another rejection of a poem I’d written. I know, don’t get down, keep submitting, and so on.

But let me just say for a moment, I started this blog to inspire writers and to give advice and get advice and maybe to give advice to myself. Sometimes, to ramble. Let me do that today, and thank you for listening.

Both of my blogs, this one, and “Unsung Throes” fall under my username: kindalikeapoet. I specifically chose this title a) because it comes from a Replacements song b) because said song is written for me, or so I’d like to think c) because I wrestle with my identity and abilities as a poet d) all of the above.

If you chose any of the above, or D, you’re correct. Pat yourself on the back. We here at Feeling Sorry For Ourselves Poet Corner applaud your effort and precision. We’ll be sure to publish your contributions in our comment box below.

Except for university publications, or my own, Word Fountain (see thelibrarywordfountain on wordpress), I have never had a piece, especially not a poem, professionally or nationally recognized. I write poetry and inspire (hopefully?) poets because I love words, poetry and music more than oxygen itself and, without any of those vices, I’d cease to exist.

Once, when I was ten, I wrote a terribly prophetic poem called The Meaning of it All and that was published by one of those “Wow, you’re a professionally published poet! Now celebrate your success by purchasing our gargantuan anthology for only $75!” But for the time being, I was exalted. My sixth grade teacher found out and announced, “We have a published poet among us!” holding my poem, which got an honorable mention at the school fair, high above her head.

I knew then that I was a writer, having a 402 page (in ink and notebook) novel done and scrolls of poetic ramblings from kitchen napkins to Mom’s credit card receipts to water bottles and sharpies. I was a poet. I was a writer. That was my destiny.

It still is. But I lost sight of it for a good long time. A long enough time that my self confidence was in the gutter and to even think that I could be a poet was unimaginable. Only I was, and I always have been. When I heard The Replacements’ “Achin’ to Be” whose lyrics express the inner struggle I feel with my own creative endeavors, there was no other name in which to call these online web blogs.

While getting my MFA from Wilkes University’s Creative Writing program, I learned that you turn rejection slips into poetry, both literally and figuratively. But small rejections like this, so early in my efforts to publish my poetry dishearten me. Those tiny nagging voices of doubt start whispering that my poetry does not belong among my peers.

But I am a writer and a poet. My annoyingly optimistic outlook does not offer another alternative. I’ll keep trekking along, I suppose.

In the meantime, enjoy this as a consolation prize for listening to me muse, whine and feel sorry for my rejection:

http://youtu.be/at4DL40FQ7Y

Be well, rock and write on,

Rachael

P.S. Is it any coincidence that my Eddie Vedder Pandora station just played “Light Today” which is about seeing the good in everything? I think not.

The Power of Writing

kindalikeapoet — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 01:21:53 +0000

Writing is an amazing and complex thing. Sure, it’s easy to put a pen to the page or to mindlessly type some stream of consciousness…but good writing requires time, revision, and, above all, a supportive community of writers.

But aren’t writers those quiet hermits that churn out epic novels? What do they need a community for? Well, for one, feedback to help with revision. I have found, since I finally put stock into my writing abilities and re-cultivated my writing life (thank you Paper Kite Press and Book Store and Wilkes University’s Creative Writing MFA program), that a community of writers is essential.

You have to be gracious enough to accept critiquing, discerning enough to apply it, and grateful for the people who support you. Maybe it’s the holidays, but lately I’ve felt more of an overwhelming gratitude for my writing community. When I lived in Blacksburg, and went to school at Radford University, I began distancing myself from my true path. It wasn’t that the artists and writers around me were exclusive or pretentious (that I know of) but I had them so high up on the shelf I didn’t realize that I belonged right up there with them.

My life underwent a transformation when I moved to Northeastern PA. I will tell you honestly that I didn’t enjoy it here. It’s more expensive, fall is shorter and not as magnificent as the Blue Ridge fireworks of autumn, and the roads? Well…if you’ve ever driven here, you know what I’m talking about.

But this journey led me to one of the richest writing communities I believe that exists anywhere (sorry, I know I’m biased!) From them, I have learned that I can not only read in public, but do it WELL. I’ve been blessed to be invited to read as a featured reader at some events. I’ve started to believe in my abilities as a poet again, too. These writer-friends of mine have given me invaluable feedback. But they’ve given me something more. They’ve shared my journey from darkness into light. They’ve helped me feel alive in my own skin again. They’ve given me the confidence to share my story.

If you do not have a writing community, start a writers’ group. Your public library will more than likely be supportive. Poetry? Well, join a poetry workshop group in your area or start your own. This last fall, I hosted a series that has changed people. It changed me, for sure. It breathed life into my choice to teach again (sometime.) I learned from my poet friends and I inspired others through my love of, and faith in, poetry.

That being said, if you’re in the Wilkes-Barre area on 1/17/12, come to my poetry workshop. (See Facebook, Osterhout Free Library for more details.)

What else can I say? Thank you. Thank you to my Wilkes family. Thank you to my friends and family and the library. I’m blessed to be counted among you as a professional writer, friend, and teacher.

Be well and write on,

Rachael

Word Fountain literary magazine is now available!

kindalikeapoet — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 17:01:05 +0000

Issue No. 5 of Word Fountain (the literary magazine that I manage) can now be accessed on line through Word Fountain’s blog:

http://wp.me/pTXg0-2j

Hard copies are available through the library. Contact me at: wordfountain@osterhout.lib.pa.us if you would like some mailed to you.

Be well and keep writing!

Rachael

Poetry is home to me.

kindalikeapoet — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 03:39:06 +0000

A friend of mine, Brian Fanelli, recently hosted a workshop as a part of a local poetry series I’m running. His topic was about home and place. These settings are the breeding ground for creative ideas, and even creative voices.

He asked the question: Does where you’re from effect your writing? My answer was yes. Where you come from, whether the ghetto or the up-and-coming subdivision, is your “stomping ground,” and the place that shapes your interests, your friends, your memories. Of course it effects your writing. We cannot write, even the wildest of fictions, without having some part of ourselves, our pasts, our memories infiltrating the finished product.

A place is a location. Home is everything attached to it. You may not like the place where you live, be it the actual dwelling area or the town/city/state as a whole; nevertheless, there is some place you call home.

What does home mean to you? Home to me is the peace I feel when I walk through the door of my new apartment. I’m finally away from this crazy neighbor/negligent landlord situation. My new town is one square mile of peace. Occasionally, there is a speeding car or a loud neighbor stomping up the corridor steps, but nothing compared to the unsettling feeling of sneaking into my house or feeling trapped in it because my neighbor was harassing me with drug-induced soliloquies of her kind of, for lack of a better term, Jerry Springer Show life.

Home is here, finally, where I have set my bags and committed myself to each moment and to my writing. Pennsylvania was never my ideal locale. I was in love with southwest Virginia and its rolling Blue Ridge Mountains, small hippie shops, local fair trade coffee and sprawling wilderness. But, being an unfailing optimist, I found peace and home here at last.

Will I be here for the long haul? I feel it’s not to be, but it’s God’s plan, not mine. Each peaceful moment at home breeds a new sense of contentment and joy in the life I’m currently living. Home should be exactly that, no matter where it is.

Where is home to you? How do you define it?

Be well and keep writing,

Rachael

For more information on my poet-friend, Brian, visit his website: www.brianfanelli.com or his WordPress blog here:

http://brianfanelli.wordpress.com

The Memorial Tattoo

kindalikeapoet — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 03:16:55 +0000

This is more about me wanting to write about my first tattoo. It is relevant to the writing life, though. When we, as writers, experience something, almost anything, we feel the need to share it through the written word. Here’s the story:

The Life and Times of An Almost Human Cat

The Memorial Tattoo

November 29th 2011 6:57 pm
[ Leave A Comment ]

Snakes’ Mom, Rachael, here. I thought I’d write a bit about the memorial tattoo I got in honor of her life with me. I got the tattoo, (my first one ever) in March 2011, about six weeks after she passed.

Bella and Cecilia are with Mom and Jeremy, of course. This was in a time before Cinnamon and Sugar came into my life. (Cinnamon I got from a rescue shelter on what would have been Snakes’ 17th birthday.)

One of the nights shortly after she “went to see Jesus” I came home and sketched a picture of a stick-ish tree with stars and hearts, and a cat beneath it, looking up at it (from a back view.)

It was random and fast. Sitting in grief on my kitchen floor, I felt good about it. It was almost like she drove me to do it. Here’s the weird part:

A few days later, I thought to count the items. There were nine stars, seven hearts (the number of perfect order) and one cat. The sum of these items is 17. She would have been 17 on 03/25/2011. As I sketched it, unaware of the fated number, I thought it might be a good tattoo.

Mom and my best friend, Lindsey, went with me. Usually Mom is squeamish, but she was smiling and looking the whole time. I had a small picture of Snakes that I looked at the whole time. Oddly, I felt peaceful and found myself smiling during the process. It didn’t hurt. The tattoo artist, Liaa, said, “It will actually feel like one long cat scratch, ironically enough.” (I traveled all the way to DC and you should check out www.britishinkdc.com if you are interested in a good tattoo by great artists.)

The tattoo is situated right on my spine. Liaa explained this was a good choice that I made because it symbolized strength and eternity.

I always said when Snakies passed, I’d save her ashes and bury them to help a tree grow in my backyard. I don’t have the tree or the backyard but one day, I will. When I pass, I will have my ashes mingled with hers. She was with me for more than half my life, and was, without any doubt, family. She was my best friend.

As other feline friends pass, a coworker suggested I add them to the art on my back. I think I will.

Be well and kiss your kitties,

Rachael

This is the link to the Catster page to learn more about the cats if you are interested:

http://www.catster.com/cats/487324/diary

what’s your writing sin?

kindalikeapoet — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 20:14:18 +0000

I’ll preface this blog entry with quoted song lyrics from one of my favorite bands of all time, Toad the Wet Sprocket “I won’t repeat myself again, I will not repeat myself again.” (“Come Down”, from the album, Coil, 1997.)

Well, apparently, repeated words and phrases are my writing sin. I attribute this to being excited about the ideas themselves. You know how when you get really excited you repeat yourself? I imagine that good editing and a second pair of eyes on my writing will help. I’ve decided, however, not to be too harsh on myself during the first draft of things.

Often, I kill ideas before they even start if I start wondering about my mistakes and hangups and reasons I should/shouldn’t be doing this/writing this/going there, etc. As writers, it’s easy to blockade ourselves into a corner and tear down all the drive we have to write instead of just writing.

I said it just the other day on Facebook: ”Why do we postpone writing when it feels so damn good?!” Even if it’s not terrific writing, and you know it isn’t, there’s something to be said about the magic of keys clacking away or ink flowing onto the page, whichever method you prefer. Something transforms and takes the wheel. You might be present, but you’re only watching as the thoughts, ideas, plots and characters mold you into their vessel for expression.

So what is your writing hang up and what have you found helps to remedy it?

Be well and keep on writing,

Rachael