something new

Plot Bunnies

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I am in this great and terrifying space where it’s time to work on a new project. If you’re not in the writing world, you may not have heard the term “plot bunny.” Plot bunnies are those little snippets of inspiration that can hit you anywhere, at anytime. It can be as small as a character name or as big as an entire plot line. Not all of them are winners but some are. The winners are the ones that stick around, that burrow in and multiply into characters, settings, conflicts, romances, and dialogue fragments. And the time plot bunnies are most likely to strike? Right after you’ve decided what you’re going to work on next.

I had my mind and creative energy all set to work on a particular story that’s been brewing for some time. Then two days ago I was hit with a plot bunny. Last night another one hit me. The two merged and became twice as persistent. As I sat down to begin the plotted story, I found myself instead making an inspiration playlist for the mutated plot bunnies. Where do I go from here? Do I follow my plan and write the book whose sheen has dulled a little? Or do I follow this shiny new idea and see where it leads? The shiny idea that is multiplying so quickly it almost a full fledged outline.

Meanwhile there are all the other ideas I’ve been holding onto for years. All of these partial stories hanging out on my computer, waiting for my return. Some of them have a few chapters, some are over a third of the way written. Now that I know the time and investment writing a book entails I am lost on where to go next. What will be the next thing I pour my creative energy into? What story can I stand to work on for the next few months or years?

I don’t expect an answer. There aren’t absolutes and facts in the writing process. It’s all about taking risks, jumping and hoping there’s a parachute. Sometimes there is, sometimes there isn’t. But like the masochists we are, we jump anyway.

Off Roading For A Few Days

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For the past few days I have been on a therapist prescribed Staycation. In my last session I told my therapist I was feeling anxious and exhausted after the holidays. Every time one of my friends or family asked me to do something (fun things, things I’d normally enjoy), I’d get a wave of anxiety and a gut feeling that I needed to say no. My therapist reminded me that after periods of intense energy outpour, such as the holidays, I needed to recharge. Being an introvert, that meant I needed time alone. So she wrote me a prescription for at least two days off from social interaction of any kind.

There were some guidelines for this Staycation:

  1. I would practice suspension of judgement.
  2. I would practice mindfulness.
  3. I would do most to all of my twenty coping skills (everything from drink lots of water to exercise to deep breathing).
  4. I would not talk to anyone.

I told my family and some of my friends I was unavailable for two days, buried my phone in the laundry basket, took the clock off the wall, and practiced calming my frazzled nervous system.

The first day I had a few moments of panic. I’d remember approaching deadlines and calls I had to return and events I had to attend. I got into a real panic over the Christmas cards I hadn’t sent out (who ever gets those out on time anyway?).

The second day I settled into it. Last night I decided to extend my Staycation two more days because I could. Because it was helping, a lot.

What I’ve Taken Away:

  • I love yoga. It’s yoga classes I can’t handle.
  • Life can be fun, adventurous, meaningful, and whimsical. It’s not all struggle and strife.
  • Mindfulness is hard. I find it easier to be mindful when I’m physically doing something – cleaning, walking, painting.
  • I am really addicted to my phone and I don’t want to be.
  • The present moment, without the past or future to cloud it, is kind of amazing.

I encourage everyone to try this, even if only for a few hours or a day. Do things that feed your body, mind, and spirit. Things that recharge you and heal you. This staycation didn’t cost me anything extra. I actually got more done than I normally would and I felt better doing it. My personal goal is to do thing every few months.

Spooky Weird Stuff

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In this edition of “There’s Some Weird Stuff Out There,” I’m getting in the Halloween spirit. Now there are a lot of directions I could go with this – you would not believe the sort of weird, spooky paranormal stuff there is out there. But instead of going zombie or ghosts or vampires, today I’m talking about shapeshifters. Not werewolves – at this point werewolves are a bit blasé, don’t you think? Without further ado I give you…

WerePanther –

Eat Prey Love by Kerrelyn Sparks

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WereTiger –

Here Kitty, Kitty by Shelly Laurenston

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WereBear –

Bear Necessities by Isadora Montrose

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WereWyr –

Dragon Bound by Thea Harrison

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WerePumas –

The Wallflower by Dana Marie Bell

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EVEN WereHoney Badger –

Bite Me by Shelly Laurenston

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And SO many more. Almost all dangerous, predatory creatures are represented. Except for sea creatures. Where are the were-sharks? The were-shark and the mermaid. Just imagine.

Proud Beginner

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I was talking with some people recently about being a beginner. I have always been a champion of the idea that you can start anything at any age. There’s a quote I love that says:

Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?

Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.

However, I do believe the single hardest thing to be a beginner at is running. Every time I begin running (once every six months or so), it is the most uncomfortable and physically painful experience of my life. Inevitably I pick the wrong clothes – my shirt rides up, my pants fall down. My lungs feel like they’re about to give out at any moment and I think my heart may explode. I feel like everyone who drives by is gawking at me like “whoa, check out that chick with the bright red face who’s somehow tangled her headphones in her ponytail.” I can never breath when I done and I always develop a week long, hacking cough. Yet I still keep trying, every six months, because I really do want to be a runner.  So despite the horrendous wardrobe malfunctions and physical trauma, I am a proud beginner.

Support Beams

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Last night I had a dream that my friends wouldn’t be my friends anymore.  I told them I really needed them and they just shrugged and disappeared.  I try not to read too much into dreams since the majority of mine are about dinosaurs who are about to eat me.  No doubt it’s all metaphorical but I’m always just happy to wake up and realize it wasn’t real.

On another note, I need to start a writing group.  There are some groups in town already but I’d like to have one that focuses on romance writing.  Then I don’t have to explain to every new person why I’m choosing to write romance, they’ll already be kindred spirits. Any suggestions?

Off the Grid, Just a Little

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I spent the weekend without wifi.  Is this even possible you ask?  Well I was house sitting and had forgotten to get the password.  Rather then be a pest, calling to ask for the wifi password, I decided to go without, thinking it might help me write.  Which it did, sort of.  What I really did was:

  • Checked my phone every ten minutes out of habit, even though nothing had refreshed.
  • Had the constant feeling I was missing something important.  What if my friends were getting together and talking about it on facebook?  And I missed the whole thing because I couldn’t log on?  What if they didn’t think to text or call me but instead decided I didn’t want to be friends with them any longer?
  • I tried logging on every seemingly open network.  They were all password protected at some point or another.  What happened to the days when one could easily mooch wifi because no one thought to have a password?  Now everyone watches their broadband, not wanting anything to slow up their Netflix streaming.
  • I felt bored and a bit listless.  I couldn’t research anything.  I couldn’t post blogs entries or check my email or look for job postings.  I couldn’t sell clothes online or tweet or put filters on Instagram photos.
  • I read more, wrote more, went to bed earlier, and didn’t watch terrible TV.  I felt a refreshing distance from the outside world for the first time in a long time.  My phone sat quietly.  I left it out on the balcony and forgot about its existence for a couple of hours.  I was ok.

What do you DO?

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There are these things where you go and do something for around 8 hours at a time and someone pays you.  We artists like to call them “day jobs” so as not to confuse the perpetual drudgery with our real work, the writing.

Sometimes, I hear, the day job doesn’t have to be drudgery.  It can be fun in and of its self.  It can be interesting and fulfilling and creative, just like the writing.  What? I shriek.  What dark magic is this?  Where have these horrid lies stemmed from?

I wonder if there is some truth behind this ludicrous nonsense.  Could there be a job out there that I would find interesting and fulfilling and creative AND they would pay me?  It seems like a quest worth pursuing.