As we left for Orlando yesterday, we stopped at a red light. Here in the South we call all traffic lights red lights, but this one really did happen to be that color. A person on a motorcycle revved his engine repeatedly until the light changed. Did it make the wait shorter? No. did he waste gas? Yes.
When we got to downtown Orlando, we sat amazed when a car zoomed through a red light immediately before it changed to green. I’m sure he was in hurry or feeling anxious or mad, or something. Did he get where he was going faster? Maybe. I doubt it. When you are that heedless, you may not get there at all.
I have impulses too. Mostly it’s when I’m on the computer. If I were in less of a hurry and more careful I wouldn’t stress myself out nearly so much. I’ve been deciding for months that I want to hurry and finish my most recent novel quickly. In the mostly German community where I grew up the older people used to say, “The faster I go, the behinder I get.” That seems to apply to me, as well. I get nervous and overwhelmed and it spreads out from the computer to all the other rooms of my life. When I’m at the bathroom sink brushing my teeth I feel overwhelmed, or when I’m in the utility room ironing Bill’s shirts, I fret thinking I need to be doing my real work. I have a writer friend who once said, “The world waits for me, what am I doing cleaning toilets?”
When I started writing books, I said it wasn’t going to be this way. I was going to live, enjoy all the little nuances, and not rush through anything. But alas, now I’m trying to get finished so I can have a little vacation I’m planning. That would be a good reward for accomplishing what I set out to do. Alas, now that I have that deadline I feel worse than ever.
Do we know what all this rush and hurry stems from? Basically, for me, it’s fear. Did you know that the everyday ordinary child today has more fears than a psych patient in 1950? Just think how many more we may have accumulated over the years.
So, if I don’t get my book finished by the time of my own deadline, does that mean I’ll die or kill anyone? Nope. Does it mean I’ll go hungry or lose the respect of someone I love. No.
The Bible says we are but smoke; here today, gone tomorrow, and yet we think we have to rush around, make our mark, measure up. Then in the middle of all that…poof, she’s gone. I hope she had a good life. Oh, look at those pretty books she wrote.
I guess I’m saying that I really do love writing books. I love my characters, I love putting words together. I really enjoy working with others to make them the best they can be and get them off to market. But it’s possible that when I rush, the quality of my work diminishes.. Writing books definitely has its place, but so does brushing teeth, and ironing shirts.
Paraphrasing 2 Timothy 1:7. I heard the Lord say: “DiVoran, I have not given you a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power and of love, and of a calm and well-balanced mind.” My answer:, “Okay, Lord I’ll slow down and receive it. Thanks.”
I almost called myself Daisy for this tip because I’m embarrassed to admit: I love clichés. They seem to go down like ice cream or cool water whichever you like best.
A cliché can be a word, a phrase, or an idea. Many clichés come from the Bible and Shakespeare’s writing. It’s called a cliché because it’s considered old, overused, hackneyed. All my writing teachers, whether in books or in classes, tell me clichés are not acceptable. Okay. I don’t want to use them all the time, or even hear them all the time. But, you have to admit; they make instant pictures in your mind and explain things that could take a lot more words to explain. Sometimes, they’re funny. Those are usually the ones that come from just plain folks, such as: busier than a one-armed paperhanger, slick as a whistle.
There are ways to get around the no clichés rule. For one, you may allow them to come from an appropriate character’s mouth. Jean used a cliché in my new novel, Clear Spring. In an email to her daughter, she says, “Forewarned is forearmed.”It means, if you know what’s coming, you might be able to protect yourself.
Other ways to use them is in casual writing such as emails and personal memoir…blogs, too, depending on the blog. A cliché may be useful as a launching pad by changing the words, but keeping the idea.
In English, we have something called idiom. I think of idiom as a certain way of conveying an idea. Don’t we usually say soldiers and sailors, or apples and oranges? If you switch them around, it’s going to interrupt your reader for a tick. You don’t want to do that if you can help it. Idiom and clichés are so much alike that I can’t tell the difference, but on www.mavenrandomhouse.com, The Maven says, “Words and phrases (idiom and cliché) become popular for a reason, and judicious use of them should not be entirely discouraged.” There. That takes a load off. Does it float your boat at all?
I come from a long line of worrywarts. I’m good at thinking about the past and the future. On the other hand, I’ve read a lot about love vs. fear, and hope vs. despair and I’ve come a long way, baby. I’ve also read a lot about meditation. At first, I was afraid of it, because I thought it was strictly an Eastern religious practice and I’d lose my will power, if I tried it..
But as time went on and I became less ignorant, I began to see something worthwhile in being still and meditating. Also, I understood that meditation is also a Christian practice. The best example is, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Now, for me, meditation goes into the box called possibility, and here’s why. A wise pastor once told me that if something is true, no matter who believes it, it’s still true. That means the idea of meditation rings true to me and I’m trying it out.
The trouble is my worrywart brain loves nothing better than to grab any quiet moment and head down into the miry clay with it. That’s what the Bible calls depression: the miry clay. There’s also the falling asleep thing. Anyhow, I’ve looked into it. I’ve decided everything goes better with Christ, and I’ve done some praying. I can’t sit empty minded, but lately there comes a time early in the morning when I’ve done some journaling, had a few lovely sips of coffee, and finally I actually hear the music I have playing on Pandora . I sigh. I have a feeling of wanting to let down. I put my pen down. I take a deep breath. I listen. I hear a flutter of wings and birdcalls. I feel a September breeze promising cooler weather. In a short time, I’m ready to go back to work. Suddenly an idea comes to me. I write it down, then another, and another. Good ideas. I develop them.
In an article in the Saturday Evening Post, September/October issue called, “Time Out,” the author, Mark Matousic says about meditation, “its like doing pushups for the brain.”
Richard Carlson says, “Have you ever noticed that when you are quiet and silent, calm and still you know exactly what to do? Being silent doesn’t shut down your mind; it only activates a deeper kind of intelligence. No one knows for sure where this deeper intelligence comes from, or what it’s called, but all wise cultures are certain that it exists. When we are silent, it’s as if we tap into a universal source of wisdom. It’s as if our thinking comes to us, rather than us actively having to pursue our thoughts. It’s as if we get the benefit of “universal thought, instead of having to rely on our own limited thinking.” Don’t Worry, Make Money
I know a middle school teacher and father that sometimes takes a day off and meditates all day. But I don’t aspire to anything like that. I think for now, I’ll stick to my own kind of meditation. I call it Sensory Meditation where I hear, see, feel. That works for me, and it’s good enough for now.
If you’d like to know more about meditation, look here
Welcome to our first post of DiVoran’s Writing Tips. She has a rich history not only in writing but in editing and poetry. Her tips will of course, be wrapped in one of her delightful stories
Most of my life, Mother said, “Make yourself the best you can and then be yourself.” When that wasn’t enough, God sent a friend to chime in with, “Nobody else can be you, so be yourself as much as you can.” They must have been trying to tell me something. I ignored them. I was a people pleaser, always figuring out what I could do to make people love, admire, and respect me more.
One day I let a painting teacher read the journal I had carefully written while on vacation. She had the gall to tell me it was pretentious. Believe it or not, I didn’t know exactly what she meant by that. Didn’t matter anyhow. I was mad (hurt). I figured I was the writer and she could just stick to teaching me how to paint and mind her own business. Then in another painting class, someone pointedly mentioned people who were pretentious and I knew she meant me, and I was hurt again, but I didn’t know how to fix it.
If I can study things I enjoy, I love studying, so when going through John Fox’s book on writing poetry, Finding What You Didn’t Lose, I discovered the answer. The title of the chapter is, “Leaving the Roots on Your Writing.” He says writers need to, “tell about those aspects of ourselves we tend to conceal.”
I think about that when someone talks about things I don’t understand. I have to make a decision every time to reveal my ignorance by asking questions. I think about it when I’m with people who know God better than I do. Can I share an honest testimony with them? I find it difficult. I don’t want them to know I’m not as advanced as they are. They might start telling me how to improve myself.
I’ve recently had the ultimate pretentious experience of my life, or so it seems now. One of my Beta readers told me the first-person character I was writing was too sophisticated to be true. I struggled with that. I couldn’t let myself understand what she meant. I wanted to argue and vent and well, you know…have a pity-party cupcake. But when the light when on and I finally understood, I was so grateful I could hardly thank her enough.
Here’s what happened. I got this college course on CDs that told how to write longer, better sentences. I am of the Guideposts and Reader’s Digest school of writing which is to write short and as plainly as possible. (Yes, White and Strunk started it). I got this course and I could barely understand it, but I decided to experiment anyhow. You wouldn’t believe the beautiful lace-like creation I crocheted my character into. It was hard work, but I felt I was learning how to write better. I was learning all right, just not what I thought. When the light went on and I realized my Beta reader was right-on, my stress left me. Let the character write as I naturally write. Now I get to rewrite many passages yet again. To tell the truth, I can’t wait. Writing simply has become like riding a bike, swimming, reading, in another word—fun! Next time through, I’ll leave the roots on. I hope the Beta reader likes it. Thank the good Lord, I have her to tell me the truth.
