Speed Bumps

A popular post from April 2008

by Annette Lyon

There are moments when a writer feels blocked. No words come. The story stalls. You're staring at a brick wall. Every writer needs their own bag of tricks for overcoming Writer's Block. (One of the best: a deadline.)

Another writerly "condition" is similar to Writer's Block, but it differs in a significant way. We'll call it Writer's Speed Bump.

Writer's Speed Bump slows you down. It can make the words harder to come, but you can still write. This can take place during drafting or during revisions.

The trick, however, is that unlike with Writer's Block, sometimes you really do need to pay attention to the speed bump and back off. In my experience, the "bump" is a moment where you could keep going, but something doesn't feel right. However, you don't know what's wrong or how to fix it.

Worse, if you keep plowing forward, you may just run the story off into a ditch that will require a backhoe to get you out of.

I've learned to trust the feeling that I've just hit a bump. Over the last several days as I worked on a rewrite of my latest novel, I hit many such moments. While I was tempted to drive right over them (I was on deadline, after all), I knew I'd better stop and take a break.

Walking away from the computer at those points was the best thing I could have done. I'd go do something else for a while and let my mind drift and wander to the story. I wouldn't sit down and concentrate on what the problem was. Sometimes I'd pick my husband's brain for ideas. Other times I'd let the issue percolate and simmer.

Stories are like shy animals; you try to grab them, and they'll elude you. You have to wait for them to come to you. Hold out your hand as an invitation, call to them sweetly, and don't make any sudden movements.

Without fail, each time I left the computer and thought a bit about the story while doing something else (nothing exciting--maybe emptying the dishwasher or sweeping the kitchen), I'd have an "aha" moment and know where to pick things up next time I sat down. I ended up taking the story in directions I hadn't anticipated--directions that never would have occurred to me if I hadn't paid attention to the "bump."

The resulting manuscript is a tighter, more focused story that works far better than the original version.

A caveat: Part of the writer brain is hesitant and fearful. Don't interpret the messages from that area as Speed Bumps, or you'll walk away from the keyboard with your fears wrapped around you like a parka, and when you return, you won't have anything new to add to the table.

But next time you're sitting at your computer and you feel that gentle nudge that . . . hmm, something's not quite clicking into place . . . listen. Walk away. Think about it. The answers will come.

You might be a writer if . . .

A popular post from January 2008

By Julie Wright

Today I am in the middle of edits, and have no time to be clever or original. So I have taken something I wrote as a creative exercise several years back and am doing a reprint here:

You might be a writer if . . .

Your spouse refuses to take you to the movies anymore because you mutter editing advice on how to tighten the dialogue and strengthen the plot.

You read books with a red pen in hand.

You pass judgment before hitting the period of the first sentence in any novel on whether the author has any intelligence at all.

All major relationship decisions are based on whether the other person knows the difference between lay and lie.

You got kicked out of Sunday School for pointing out a place in the Songs of Solomon where you felt the author lacked vision.

You cry in bookstores when you see a new book published by the imprint that recently rejected you.

You get caught eavesdropping on conversations, but insist you're not being nosy, just doing research.

Anyone who ever wronged you back in high school is now either a victim or an incompetent villain in one of your novels.

You know what a rejection letter sounds like as it swirls around in the garbage disposal.

You know what a rejection letter sounds like as it swirls around in the toilet.

You've ever said, "Well they just didn't read it!" after getting a rejection letter.

You've ever believed you could pay off your house with your first royalty check. HAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!! And now that you know you can't, you find that it isn't really that funny.

Your children eat corn dogs and Happy Meals when you're on a deadline.

Your children eat a lot of corn dogs and Happy Meals.

You named your dog Victor, your fish Hugo and your two parakeets Jane and Austen.

You hear voices in your head conversing, arguing, falling in love . . . and somehow you're sure this doesn't mean your crazy,

merely a writer . . .

Writing for Writing's Sake

A popular post from August 2009

by Annette Lyon

How much should beginning writers be encouraged? I talked a bit about my stance on that here and here, but here's the nutshell version:

If you have the passion and fire to be published, go for it. Be prepared for setbacks and rejection.

If you don't have that drive, don't pretend that you do, and don't pretend you want to be published. Admit that it's a fun little fancy and move on.

But I do believe that everyone can benefit from the writing process. Everyone can benefit from being be a writer on some level, whether it's something as simple as writing letters, blogging, or journaling.

The other night, we had some friends over, one of which is a talented lawyer. Chatting over dessert, he expressed a secret wish to write but shrugged it off with, "I know it'll never get published, so what's the point?"

Since I'm so quiet with my opinions (*snort!*), I verbally tackled him on that one.

Did he care about getting published, I asked?

No, he said, not really, but he loved getting the stories in his head down. It was a stress release, a way to have fun. But he felt guilty writing when it seemed so pointless. When it wasn't an hour he could bill for the firm. When it wasn't productive.

I think that's the point where I launched into lecture mode.

First, I explained that the vast majority of published writers don't make a living off it, so "productive" is pretty much in the eye of the beholder there.

Second, if it's something that brings him joy and is a destressor, then DO IT. Who cares if no one but him ever sees his stories? Who cares how good a writer he is? (He says he's not good, but I'm doubting that.)

How many knitters out there stop knitting because the sweater they're making will be worn by only one person?

How many amateur photographers stop taking pictures because a good percentage of their photographs didn't turn out quite like they hoped?

How many people run marathons because there's a physical object they can point to afterward and say, "Look, there's the marathon I ran?" (Good luck with that one.)

Hobbies aren't supposed to be "productive." That's why they're hobbies. They're supposed to be fun.

If writing brings you joy and is a hobby, that is reason enough to do it. Writing for some people is a passion that transcends hobby. For some, it begins as hobby, and eventually goes somewhere else. I know writers who started writing as a hobby and eventually quit their day jobs to be full-time writers. It happens (rarely, but it does).

Then there are simple hobbyist writers. And that's just fine.

He worried about the productivity thing again. I pointed out that he needs to unwind. That every hour of his day can't be spent billing for the firm. That he needs some down time, or he'll snap.

I suggested setting a goal for himself: what if for every specific number of hours he bills, he gets to write for one hour (or a certain number of words or whatever specific limit he gives himself). Make writing a reward for a job well done. A treat. His wife jumped all over that idea.

You can bet I'll be on his case next time I see him, asking whether he's written more of his story and if not, why not. I'll be a pest about it if I have to. I'm passionate about these kinds of things if you can't tell.

In his case, I could see the need to write in his eyes. He needs it for different reasons than I do, I suspect (I've needed to since second grade; it's sort of in my blood). But the reasons are there, all the same.

If you have the need, whatever your reason, put your hands on the keyboard, and do it.

Sensitivity

A popular post from June 2009

by Annette Lyon

Something only a handful of people know is that I've been dealing with chronic (as in daily) headaches for roughly 5 1/2 years. In that time, I've dealt with a bunch of doctors and tests and medications, and I'm still on that journey.

But the headaches themselves aren't the point of this post. What a new specialist told me this morning is the point.

When he found out that I'm a writer, he took it in stride and almost considered that a possible contributor to my headaches. I was a bit confused, because I know from experience that if I stop writing, I get more stressed out (and hence get even more headaches).

I can't stop writing. That would be akin to chopping off a limb, and I can honestly say that my headaches would likely get out of control if I stopped writing.

But then the doctor went on. He said that artistic and creative people tend to have more sensory receptors. That we're more sensitive and aware of the world around them. That things simply affect us more. And that can lead to stress, which can contribute to headaches.

I think he's right. I know I'm affected powerfully by major life events. But then, I also get a lump in my throat from something as simple as a lawn with a fresh coat of snow or by seeing my child riding without training wheels for the first time.

I'm more aware of temperature changes than the average person. I notice subtle shades of color. I see cloud formations, mountain shapes, or clumps of trees and try to find fresh metaphors to describe them. I rewrite billboards in my head as I pass them on the freeway.

When I watch a parade, I think about all the time and effort that went into each float and try to catch every detail to make it worth the workers' time.

Music has a powerful effect on me . . . which is possibly why I sometimes avoid it, because I can't always predict what it'll do to me.

My emotions tend toward the extreme. If I'm happy, I'm happy. If I'm scared, I'm scared. There's not a lot of middle ground. It's a matter of constant intensity. (My poor husband . . .)

Basically, with all that activity going on in my brain, I'm more prone to headaches than, say, a neurologist like Dr. T.

I don't write this in an effort to support the theory that writers are miserable, starving creatures with horrid lives. Hardly. I think we can feel joy just as intensely as we can feel misery. I just think that creative people are simply a more intense variety of human being.

I'm still on a mission to banish the headaches for good, and part of that will be a new medication and finding better ways to manage stress (I'm thinking yoga . . .), but for the first time in many years, I'm looking at my condition with new eyes.

It's almost as if what Dr. T. told me today validated me as a creative person. He basically told me that I have the ability to see beauty and detail that others simply lack. And that ability gives me an advantage over those who don't have it. It helps me imagine and feel and write.

So when all is said and done, I'd rather live with headaches if it means that I can find more beauty than others, if it means having the ability to feel an overwhelming ache because of an event so intense it makes me shed a tear . . . and then be able to put it into words . . . so someone else can read it and then shed a tear of their own.

I'm sensitive. I'm a writer. I'll take them both.

If You're Real, I Won't Kill You

A popular post from December 2009

by Annette Lyon

Due to the fact that it's holiday season and none of us are particularly active (or, let's face it, over our eggnog comas and even awake), this post is something from the archives of my personal blog.

It, however, writing-related: a writing first for me, and quite possibly an obsession.

Since that post first made its appearance back when I had oh, about a dozen people regularly reading my blog, I'm guessing that

1) most Writing on the Wall readers haven't seen it and

2) quite a few might relate to it.

(Happy New Year!)

**********

I think I was fourteen at the time. I’d gone with my mother to the local university bookstore, where she agreed to buy me a binder for my writing. It was a rosy pink. The binder still sits on a shelf in my office.

Once home, I eagerly filled it with notebook paper, then plopped onto the living room couch and began scribbling.

I had no concrete story idea; I was just in the mood to write. I began with an image and went with it: a little girl walking through a meadow where her imaginary friends lived. I’m sure the idea was a direct result of the fact that at the time, I constantly poured over the work of L.M. Montgomery, of Anne of Green Gables fame.

In the brief story, the girl greets fairies and other mythical creatures and bemoans how she has no other friends. The other children mock and tease her. She feels welcome only there with her magical companions. As I wrote, I discovered that the girl also has a serious illness and rarely gets to go out to her meadow.

She lies on the ground, hidden from sight by the flowers above and around her. Then she closes her eyes and whispers, “My dears, I’ve come to join you.”

And dies.

It was a perfectly melodramatic story for a teen to write. But overdone as the two-page ditty was, the ending hit me with a bolt of lightning. I closed the binder and stared at it, feeling not a little shaky.

A little girl was dead, and I had killed her.

It didn’t matter that she was fictional, that she hadn’t ever really inhabited this world, experienced life, or had a family to mourn her passing. (I worried about her poor mother—would she be able find her daughter under all those flowers?) In those few minutes I’d lived with her on the page, she had been real to me.

The sensation was odd—a creative rush combined with the sensation of intense guilt almost nauseating in its strength. The little dead girl seemed to haunt me for days afterward.

I’m sorry, I wanted to say. I didn’t mean to kill you. I didn’t know you’d die. It took a week or two to get over the guilt.

Then I had my first dip into research. I had to figure out what she’d died from, so I cracked open one of my mother’s many reference books and read up on various fatal illnesses that could strike children. For reasons I don’t recall, I settled on aplastic anemia, a disease I knew nothing about save for a brief description written in tiny text. The fact that a child minutes away from death wouldn’t be in a position to frolic in a meadow was pretty much irrelevant.

Since then, I’ve killed many fictional people, but I’ve reached the point where I no longer take responsibility for their deaths. I grieve when they die; they’re my friends, in a way. But it’s not my fault. Sometimes characters, just like people, die.

After reading At the Journey’s End, a man in my neighborhood came to me and said, “What is your problem with death?”

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“By the end of the first chapter, three people are dead.”

At first I was taken aback. THREE? No way. But then I thought through the opening of my book. One person dies in the prologue. One in the first chapter. Oh, wait. Two. Yep. That makes three. But both deaths in chapter one were real historical figures. I didn’t kill them. They actually died on that day in history; I just told about it.

As if that made it so much better.

So I thought back to my other books. My first one has a mother already dead before the book begins, which is pretty much what the plot revolves around. Plus a little girl’s kitten dies. Oh, and a man dies in the girl's presence. Almost forgot that one. My second book features two deaths. And House on the Hill? Several pretty major deaths. Plus a dog.
Wow, I thought. I do have some kind of fascination with killing people off.
The best response I could come up with for my neighbor was, “Rest assured, no one dies in my next book.” I paused to double-check, thinking through Spires of Stone just to be sure—did anyone—or anything—die in it? Even a cat or dog? A mouse? Nope. No one dies. Phew.

However . . . I can’t say the same for Tower of Strength. Sorry. It does have two deaths. Wait. Three. My obsession with the end of life is apparently quite healthy.

[Update: my upcoming Band of Sisters doesn't escape death either. It has at least two. Crimeny!]

But I’m innocent! I swear, I didn’t kill anyone. It’s not my fault, and I won’t feel guilty over it.

Okay, I still cried writing them.

Goodness, we writers are certainly an odd lot . . .

Ideas and Playtime

A popular post from October 2009

by Annette Lyon

(with a bit by her daughter)

One of the most common questions writers get is this one:

Where do you get your ideas?

Most writers don't have much of a problem with this. We get ideas from everywhere.

For example, I had a character show up after I listened to a radio show. The entire concept of another book showed up after a brief conversation with my cop brother. Others appear after reading an article or a news story. The more I read, watch the news, pay attention to the world around me and ask, “What if?” the more ideas flow.

Granted, not all ideas are gems. Most aren’t, for that matter. But you need a constant flow of ideas, like a river, so that when the real gems float by, you can recognize them, grab hold, and hang onto them for all they’re worth.

My 12-year-old daughter was recently planning a lesson to teach to the writing club at the junior high. "Coming up with ideas" was her topic.

She had great notes, so I’m stealing them today, because what she planned for her lesson is applicable to all of us. And frankly, she had some awesome notes.

Earlier, I’d told her the genesis of a few books I knew about, and she wrote them into her notes, so they’re below as well. (I love how she refers to me by my full name one second and then as “my mom” the next.)

Coming up with ideas, by Lyon Child #2

All books have to start with an idea from some idea. Some of ideas that became published books:

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card: He was driving up a canyon and imagined seeing fighter planes and wondered how would you teach pilots to fight in space when there is no up, no down, or side to side. All the rules of strategy would change. The book is much more than that, but that was the first idea.

House of Secrets by Jeffrey S. Savage. He read a column in a newspaper about the day a woman went to her grandmother’s house after she died. Jeff wondered what would happen if you went to your grandmother's house after many years and you found a dead body in the bedroom.

House on the Hill by Annette Lyon, was reading a book with a lot of historical articles and one was about Indians that would sell their children to get money so there were a bunch of Indian children raised by white families in Utah. So she knew that one of her characters in that book would be an adopted Indian.

Then my mom told me about walking through graveyards and reading the names and other stuff on them. She found a group of stones that were children who died within days of each other. One said that the child died from cholera, so Mom figured the others most likely died from it too.

Then I started thinking what if everyone in a town got cholera and died except for one person that was like 20 and lived by themselves for years and then got cholera too, and was freaking out because there were no more people living and the human race would be extinct.

Another story I thought of after talking to my mom about a gravestone and the inscription on it was that what if there were these four people in college two boys and two girls that hated each other and one of the boys and one of the girls got married and so did the other two. So when the first couple got older they had a girl and when she was twenty she really liked this boy and he came over and they really liked him and thought that he was really nice and his parents thought the same about the girl, but what they didn’t know is that the boys’ parents were their enemies from college. Then at their wedding they find out who his parents are.

One way to find ideas is to go somewhere that’s noisy with lots of people. You can just watch people walk by and imagine what their life might be like.

Or play the “what if” game. Like:

What if penguins could fly?

What if cars ran on lemonade instead of gas?

What if cats were the dominant species?

What if mice could fly?

What if Mother Nature were a real person?

What if house flies were really the size of a house?

What if pigs really could fly?

What if dolls could walk and talk?

What if pictures moved like in Harry Potter?

What if we lived in the 60s?

What if cows could talk?

What if everyone in the world had a super power?

What if socks went on your hands and gloves on your feet?

What if we lived in a time with no technology?

What if there were such thing as flying carpets?

What if we walked on our hands?

What if cows could type?

What if chickens could talk?

What if it was always raining?

What if pencils were earrings?

[End of lesson notes]

All of this came from about half an hour of my seventh-grade daughter typing away with my AlphaSmart Neo. Somehow I think if she can come up with this many ideas in that short of a period (even the soap opera love story one), the rest of us adults don’t have any excuses.

As you drive on your commute or while running errands, turn off the radio and mentally play the “what if” game and take each story as far as you can. My good friend J. Scott Savage has been known to take it so far as he lies in bed that he's plotted out entire trilogies before he falls asleep.

Eye people in the cars next to you and pretend they’re characters. Come up with reasons for where they’re going and why. Or ask yourself why they're driving that make and model of car and how do they feel about it. Make up additional conflicts. It’s great fun.

Now for a dare based on my daughter's notes:

This week, go to a mall, grocery store, or other crowded place and observe. I did this some time ago. I bought myself a few pieces of my favorite See’s candy and sat back on a bench at a busy mall.

I watched high-powered business men scurry by, mothers with huge strollers, senior citizens going on power walks, and more. I came up with stories and characters surrounding them. I sat there for a good half hour or more, letting my mind go wild, taking notes when I felt like it, letting myself daydream when I didn’t . . . and eating chocolate in between.

Best of all, when you do this kind of thing, remember to eavesdrop. That's one of the best ways to get great characterization and storyline ideas. Late-night grocery runs are fantastic for this. Check out this blog post for an example of a recorded late-night grocery trip that I laughed myself silly reading.

The bottom line is that coming up with ideas and filling your creative bucket aren’t so different from one another. Remember the artist child inside you needs fun. Make sure you take him or her out to play every so often.

Oh, and remember to take my daughter’s advice. She may be young, but she knows what she’s talking about.

(That may have something to do with the fact that she’s been living with a writer since, oh, birth.)

Step Away from the Manuscript

A popular post from October 2009

by Annette Lyon

I know of writers who claim there is no such thing as writer's block. In a sense, that's true. No matter what the situation, you can sit down, put your hands on the keyboard, and plunk out some words.

But will they be any good?

I've also heard people say that claiming you have writer's block is akin to a plumber saying he's got plumber's block.

To me, that comparison is ridiculous, because a plumber doesn't have to come up with a fresh, new way of fixing a pipe every time. He's got the exact same wrenches and other tools, and a pretty clear-cut list of leaks, clogs, and other issues he'll likely need to fix on any given day.

He doesn't need to find a unique voice, a fresh metaphor, a brand new way to plot a wrench, for Pete's sake. For that matter, if he's good at what he does, he can probably do most of his work without giving it too much thought. He might enjoy a periodic challenge because it's a change in his daily routine.

On the flip side, writers must come up with something new and different each time we sit down. Using the same proverbial wrench every day would be boring or, worse, cliche.

Sure, we can force ourselves to show up at the keyboard, but frankly, sometimes, showing up isn't the best thing to do. Sometimes our creative side needs a break to figure out where we've gone wrong, where to head next, what our character is trying to accomplish, where the plot has gone off into a ditch, what's missing.

And that means walking away from the keyboard.

Paraphrasing an interview I recently read with Audrey Niffenegger (author of The Time Traveler's Wife), writers can often solve problems by coming at them sideways, while working on something else creative. She paints and lets her mind drift. She doesn't force herself to think about her characters or story, but sometimes her mind goes there, and her characters decide to come slip into her mind, showing up with their own answers.

I've found the same thing happening when I let go and stop trying to chase the answers down. The more I try to force the story or the characters to face me head-on, they more they elude me just as I'm about to grab hold of them.

But if let them roam free and I do something else with my mind, letting them come to me, I find that eventually, they will.

For me, sometimes that means setting up my sewing machine and tackling the giant pile of mending my children's clothing. Other times it might be cleaning out a closet or pulling out my knitting needles for a new project.

Maybe I'll go on a walk several days in a row to let my brain think all the messy thoughts it wants to and eventually "unkink" and drift.

Often I find answers while driving, but only if I'm alone in the car and I turn off the radio and drive in silence.

In the summers, weeding a garden or mowing a lawn can do the same thing. Or scrubbing a kitchen floor. In the winter, try shoveling snow.

Do the dishes. Hand-washing is particularly effective for overcoming blocks. So is folding laundry.

I know that it's a pain in some ways that so many of these techniques are chores. (Darn it.) But the reality is that they work. You accomplish something without using a lot of mental energy.

That's the key, because you trick your mind: it knows it's getting something valuable done, yet it's not under pressure to be productive by itself, to be "on" and creative.

Therefore, as you work, your mind gives itself permission to play . . . and a tiny part of it drifts (sometimes you aren't even aware that your mind is working) . . . and then it becomes creative (again, you may not even know it) . . . and then WHAM! the answers come.

Sometimes all it takes is a couple of hours of a different activity. Sometimes it's a few days or even a week or two. But it works.

I'm always amazed when the answers show up. They're clear. They're vivid. They sparkle. And they're always something so much better than I could have come up with on my own by forcing my behind to stay in the chair and by pounding out my word count goal for the day.

That's not to say that writing goals don't have their place; they're very effective, and I use them regularly when drafting. But when occasional blocks smack you in the face, pause and take stock.

If you think it's time, step away from the manuscript. Don't feel guilty about doing so.

Wait for the answers to come while you darn a sock or bake a cake.

(If it's chocolate, save some for me.)

Why Try?

A popular post from June 2011

by Annette Lyon

Recently I had lunch with a writer friend. She's completed several novels but hasn't yet snagged a contract.

At one point in our conversation, she mentioned a bestselling writer in her genre and said something along the lines of, "I'll never be as good as she is. Why should I keep trying?"

I pointed out that there's room in every market for new voices, and fans of a genre are always looking for additional writers to love. It's not competition so much as spreading the love.

Again: "But I'll never be as good as she is."

My response: "So what?"

That may sound harsh, like I don't understand, but oh, I do. I understand all too well. Many, many times over the years, I've read a book and had almost identical thoughts.

I'll never be that good.

Why bother trying when there are works as brilliant as this?

Who in the world would want to read my drivel?

Then reality kicks in:

I'll never write like anyone else because I'm me.

What I can bring to the world of literature is mine and mine alone.

I can strive to improve, always.

I should never stop trying to get better.

To think I should never, ever write because others are farther along the path than I am . . . well, that's nothing short of paralyzing. It would mean I'd never write, never seek publication.

Never be read.

It also means never improving, because I wouldn't be in the trenches, working, writing, doing, learning. And never finding out what I'm capable of.

So no, I'll never be Author X or Novelist Y. And that's OKAY.

What I do need to be is the best ME that I can. That's a lifetime pursuit, one that won't come by watching my life pass by as I wait for it to happen. It won't come unless I act, sit down, write, submit. Wash, rinse, repeat.

In other words, I have do the work.

When in doubt, read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.

Read it again with a red pen.

Then write.

And write some more.

And never stop.

Pay Attention. Remember.

A popular post from September 2011

by Annette Lyon

One of your main jobs as a writer is to keep your eyes and ears open, all the time. You never know what random bit of information you gleaned from a newscast, documentary, conversation, novel, or something else entirely, will be just the bit you need for a story.

At various times, the following pieces of information have proven useful in my work (whether that's reading, editing, or writing), all of which I've learned from paying attention as my life moves along.

• Portuguese doesn't sound like Italian.
• Some houses can't have basements because of a high water table.
• You can't shoot the lock off a door.
• The typical length of a picture book is 32 pages.
• Bleeding arteries don't trickle or run; they pump in spurts.
• Many Southern California apartments don't have heating.
• In-N-Out Burgers has a minimal menu.
• In the Salt Lake City Airport, arriving passengers come down an escalator to meet family.
• Bruises turn yellow when they've almost healed.
• Almost anything can be poisonous in the right amount.
• If you break your nose, you may become nauseated from blood draining into your stomach.
• A canyon near my home has a great running trail, and in the fall, the trail is surrounded by gold leaves.
• The carpet in a local ICU has a swirly blue pattern.
• A small rock, when thrown, can cause a cut big enough to need stitches.
• A childhood friend's father used to sing silly songs in a voice mimicking Kermit the Frog.

I could go on and on. If you're a curious writer, you probably could too. That's a good thing.

As a writer, you should be constantly paying attention. An incomplete list of what that can mean:

• Eavesdropping on public conversations.
• Noticing smells.
• Paying attention to sounds, both indoors and outdoors.
• Taking note of colors: on the mountains, paint on the walls, clothing, hair, etc.
• Mentally cataloging quirks of speech.
• Thinking up ways to describe things (sights, sensations, etc.)
• Watching professionals as they work, including their behaviors, choices, and vocabulary.

And so on.

If you're the curious type, you likely run a Google search for random things at random times. You wonder "what if" and "why" and you aren't satisfied with generic answers. You look up one thing online and end up staying there for an hour, following links as you learn a bunch of new things.

Instead of apologizing for being "weird," embrace the idiosyncrasy and fill up the well of detail that's inside you.

Why? Because when you're sitting at the keyboard, getting ready write, you need a well to draw from. Of course you don't need to know everything when you sit down. Far from it. You can always leave blanks to research and fill in later. (I do that all the time.)

But if you have been actively filling up your well with vivid images, sounds, smells, and ideas, your writing will flow out of your fingers quicker and smoother than it would otherwise. You'll find yourself making connections you wouldn't have thought of otherwise. Your story will be richer.

If your well is empty, you'll have nothing to draw from.

So: Watch. Listen. Read.

Above all, pay attention and remember.

SOME FUN NEWS:

If you have heard about it yet, be sure to check out the newest writing podcast, specifically about middle-grade books. It's called Wordplay, and the three hosts are awesome: critique group member J. Scott Savage, New York Times best-selling writers James Dashner, and literary agent-turned novelist Nathan Bransford.

One of the Many Revisited

by Annette Lyon

Last time I talked about how there are so many aspiring writers out there and how only those few with the inner fire will make it.

As a follow-up, I feel like I need to explain my general writing philosophy.

One commenter said in part:

Everyone should be encouraged to write. It's never a waste of time--even if all they do is write little stories for their children, or blog or letters to missionaries.

I couldn't agree more. But since my two opinions seem to conflict, today I'll clarify my stance.

Writers who think it would be "neat" to publish a book most likely won't get there. That's why I say it's a waste of time to encourage and mentor these folks. They're traveling a path they don't have any intention of seeing the end of (especially when--not if--it takes major ups and down to reach that end).

What's the point of that?

That's what last week's post was about.

What I also believe is that writing as a process should always be encouraged. There is power to putting words together and expressing one's innermost thoughts and feelings.

In a very real way, writing can be a powerful form of meditation and prayer.

Writing can free the mind and heart and even act as a type of therapy, a catharsis.

Writing helps you learn what you really think and really feel about a topic, a situation, an event, or even a person.

Writing out a personal problem can help you solve it.

And writing can do much more.

I believe everyone on the planet should be this kind of writer. Everyone could benefit from the simple act of putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and making something out of nothing, of putting their souls into words and expressing themselves if this amazing medium.

This need to communicate, this power of writing, I believe, is the reason behind the huge boom in blogging and the increasing number of blogs every single day. Anyone can write and have a readership. It's revolutionary.

People want to write. They want to be heard. They want to express themselves.

And they should do all of those things, whether they are one of the few with the fire of publication inside them . . . or whether they are not.

Because everyone should write. This world might be a happier place if there were more people writing things out, regardless of whether it ever gets published.

One of the Many

by Annette Lyon

Nearly fourteen years ago, I took a university creative writing class from Dr. T, a professor who was himself an award-winning novelist. I looked forward to sitting at his feet and learning from one of the greats.

On one of the very first days of class, however, he announced that the chances of any of us ever getting published was pretty small, and that too many aspiring writers are encouraged. That we really shouldn't be encouraging so many of them, because there's too many already.

Um, thanks? I sat there, stunned. This is what I signed up for? A teacher who didn't think there was a point in encouraging his students?

When my first book came out, I was tempted to send him a note that said, "neener-neener."

But now? I almost (not quite, but almost) agree with him.

It wouldn't surprise me at all if I turned out to be the only student in that class to get published. I had the fire; I wasn't about to be stopped. But did the rest of them have that same need? From what I saw, most of them saw writing as a fun little thing to do.

In the years since, I cannot count how many people have told me that they "want to write a book." But there's always an excuse: they don't have the time (and I magically do?), or they don't know how (and I magically did?) or whatever the excuse of the day might be.

The reality is that these kinds of aspiring writers probably shouldn't be encouraged, because they aren't serious about it. It's a waste of the mentor's time and a waste of the writer's time.

Frankly, Dr. T had a point: there isn't enough room in the publishing business for everyone who wants to be there. Competition is fierce, and unless you're willing to fight the good fight, you won't make it.

If a publishing contract landed the laps of these people, they'd love it. But here's the problem: they aren't willing to put in the blood, sweat, and tears that it almost always takes to reach that point.

So here's the question each of us must answer for ourselves: Does the flame of writing burn inside you? Do you have to write? Do you want to be published the way you "want" oxygen?

If yes, then stay on this path. Most people who embark on it eventually fall off it, while those who stay on eventually make it through.

It isn't easy. But the journey is worth it, if you're willing to pay the price.

In a sense, I think that's what Dr. T. meant.

(Oh, and I did send him a postcard announcing my first book. Just to let him know about it. Ya know, just 'cause.)

Where'd I Go?

by Annette Lyon

I'm getting seriously tired and cranky over here.

The past week or so has been spent proofing my galleys and working on a proposal for promoting my next book, a proposal I just gave to the marketing and PR people at my publisher. Oh, and I've kept up on my personal blog, sort of (doing scheduled posts because I knew I'd be struggling to find actual time to write them).

The business side. That's pretty much all the writing-related work I've done in the last week and a half.

And it's making me loopy.

I learned several years ago that if I don't get some actual creative writing in on a regular basis, then life falls apart at the seams. I'm seeing it yet again. Everything I'm doing is writing-related, but it's a step removed from the creative act. It's the logical, administrative side of things.

And as far as my inner writer is concerned, it doesn't count. And she's rebelling.

I first learned about this phenomenon nearly a decade ago at a time when I thought I was "too busy" to write. I had managed to get a few articles published, but that was it; I hadn't had any luck with fiction.

I had three little kids and a demanding job at church, among other things. I figured that when things calmed down a bit (whatever that means), I'd return to my writing.

So I took two months off. My life imploded.

Suddenly, no matter how hard I tried, I felt like I was on a hamster wheel, going nowhere. I had less time for my kids and my husband and my church job. The house was a bigger mess. The kids fought more and were generally more irritable. I was losing my mind.

Finally, in the middle of the cyclone, I threw caution to the wind and took about twenty minutes two days in a row to sit at the computer and write. That's less time than an episode of Sesame Street.

Can you guess what happened?

Yep. The cyclone calmed right down.

I learned right then and there that I can't put off writing until later, like I hear so many people say, especially the old excuse, "I'll do it when the kids are older." For my kids' sake, I'd better not stop. They deserve a mother who's not on the brink of a nervous breakdown, and writing is the way to keep their mother even-keeled.

Granted, there's a balance. Now that I have deadlines, book signings, conferences, and more, I have to be more careful with family and how much my writing intrudes. I can't just take twenty minutes here and there for my personal therapy (not if I want my editor to speak to me again, anyway).

Attending my critique group is the same thing. If I go too many weeks without it, I start resembling a crazy monkey clawing the walls. Once when I'd missed a few weeks, I said I'd better not go yet again, since we had a sick kid. My husband took me by the shoulders and nudged me toward the door.

"Go. Please. I need my wife back."

I'm there again, not feeling like myself. My husband could use his wife back again. My kids are probably wondering what happened to their mother.

I need to sit down and write a scene from my work in progress. I need that creative flow. I need to find me again.

Tonight, I'm going to my critique group. And tomorrow, you won't find me analyzing promotion ideas or worrying about the proof or thinking about press releases.

Instead, I will draft more of the novel I'm working on.

I'm going to love every minute of it.

And I have a suspicion that I'll find myself on the other side.

Trust Your Gut

by Annette Lyon

In light of the holiday, this will be a brief post, but it's something I've been thinking about ever since a recent edit job.

The manuscript was non-fiction. I spent quite a lot of time working with the author over several months. Then she sent me a chapter that didn't feel like the rest of the book. The flow was gone. The topic felt off target. The entire chapter just rang untrue.

I was hesitant in how to approach my comments, so I tried to be as gentle as I could when I told her that, in my opinion, she should cut the entire chapter. It didn't work, and the book didn't need the information in it.

Her reply surprised me. She basically said, "Actually, I was wondering about that. And I agree."

Her gut was already telling her the chapter wasn't working. Why didn't she just pull it out on her own? She needed an outside confirmation that she was right.

Writers need that. The longer we write, the better we get at feeling those gut instincts and acting on them. But no matter how long we write, we still need outside feedback. While not all feedback will be something you agree with, it's all valuable.

And quite often, it'll be something that'll make you think, "Yeah, I knew that." The commentary resonates, and you just know they're right.

As you move on with your next writing project, try to trust your gut. That means having trust whether it's telling you positive or negative things.

A caveat: Your gut isn't your internal editor. Don't confuse the two. Get rid of the editor/censor (it's the loud voice yelling at you) and listen to what the work is telling you, what your instinct whispers.

Then, after you get outside reviews, you just might realize your gut knows what it's talking about.

Have a Merry Writerly Christmas

by Annette Lyon

Here are some last-minute Christmas gifts for the writer in your life.
(If you're reading this, you're probably the writer, so forward this post to your loved ones . . . or buy some of these for yourself!)

An AlphaSmart Neo.
I can't live without mine when I'm in drafting mode. Read all about this handy toy tool here.

Paper
This may be an inexpensive item for normal people, but for the writer who goes through a lot of reams, this is a welcome gift.

Toner
You do have a laser printer, right? Ink Jets go through ink way too fast and end up costing you more than lasers in the long run. Toner cartridges may cost twice as much, but they last four times as long. Another welcome gift for people who print a lot (using that paper).

Books
Most writers are book freaks. 'Nough said.

Books on Writing
Check out this post for some of my favorites.

Bookshelves
On which to put the book freak's books. It's hard to have too many bookshelves.

Bookends
This site has tons of really neat ones. Like these. Aren't they cool?

Shirts, mugs, and more

Cafe Press has lots of fun products with goofy writer sayings, like "Will write for chocolate" and "Please do not annoy the writer. She may put you into her novel and kill you." Just search for, "writer" or "writing" and see all the fun stuff that pops up.

New York Public Library Gift Shop

Check out their ties, book earrings, bookmarks, and two really cool totes, one with a stylized image of Shakespeare and the other with a collage of stylized female writers.

They've got an entire jewelry section that include typewriter key bracelets and Scrabble tie cuff links. Fun stuff.

Journals/notebooks

Get a nice hardback book (preferably with a spiral inside so it can be laid flat). Perfect for brainstorming and jotting down ideas on the run.

Sony voice recorder
Catch those ideas on the fly while driving or doing laundry. You can find several digital recorders that are reasonably priced. This one's under $60.

The Oxford English Dictionary (The OED)
This is the most exhaustive dictionary in the English language. Use it to find the earliest known use of a word, look at date charts for the most common uses, discover etymologies, and more. Subscribe to it online or get it on CD here.

Writer's Digest subscription
Get it. Read it. Don't let your subscription lapse. It's a great magazine for both beginner and expert. Get the actual magazine; the newsletter is good, but it's not as complete as the magazine itself.

Some ideas for Stocking Stuffers:
Paper Clips
Sticky Notes
Sticker Flags
Nice pens.
Red pens
Bookmarks

And finally, the best thing you can get for any writer: TIME
Organize a writer retreat for overnight or even just an afternoon. Give your writer a chance to get away from distractions and just WRITE!

The Inner Critic

by Annette Lyon

Everybody has one.

Whether it's the voice of that high school English teacher (a pox on her) who said you couldn't string two sentences together or simply your own insecurities piping up, I'm sure you know what yours sounds like.

The Critic is loud. It's bossy. It's an authority. And we tend to listen to it.

That isn't always a bad thing. At times, you do need to look at your work objectively. Does this scene work? Is this dialogue cheesy? Did I start in the right place? Am I showing so much the story drags? Is this character believable? Without the critic there on your shoulder, these kinds of questions are hard to answer.

On the other hand, there is a definite time and a place for the Critic, and a large portion of the time, he ain't wanted.

For example, imagine you're in the flow of a story, living and breathing the events. You're really there with your characters. Then your Critic creeps out of hiding and whispers four little words, "This is kinda lame."

POP! The creative balloon explodes and you return to reality with a thud.

Was the scene lame? Maybe. Maybe not. There's no way to know when you're in the middle of it. You're way too close to it when it's hot off the press (or not even off it yet!). The passage you're working on could be brilliant, and you'd still think it's lame at this point.

Ignore the Critic. Shove him back into his cave and lock the door. Keep writing. And then tomorrow, unlock the Critic and let him read it with you. At that point, you'll be able to somewhat trust what he has to say, since he's had to tame himself in solitary confinement.

It's important for writers to understand the two ways your brain works and be able to compartmentalize them—to bring out the shy, scared writer child and to lock the Critic in its cave for the duration of a writing session.

And then, yes, to know when that timid artist can go take a rest and it's time to bring out the Critic to take a hard look at what you produced.

Having them both out and active simultaneously can spell trouble. The creative flow will likely be filled with painful bumps and jolts. You'll second-guess yourself, keep going back to smooth out sentences instead of moving the story forward. You'll trash entire sections in the heat of the moment because the Critic is yelling so loudly that you're forced to believe its ranting. The artist side won't have a chance to be heard or listened to.

Most writers have their own pet ways of reining in their Critics. Some do Julia Cameron's morning pages—three hand-written pages of free writing first thing every day, which force the Critic to move over.

Others give the Critic a name, say Morris or Agnes, so they can "talk" to the Critic and tell it to get lost.

Sometimes a physical form, like a stuffed animal, can be helpful so you can physically put the Critic on the desk when it's at work and into the drawer when it's not wanted or needed.

I know writers who put on music to bring out the inner Artist and quiet the Critic.

For others, simply recognizing the fact that they have those two sides warring against one another is enough to tune in to the one voice and ignore the other.

So how do you deal with your inner Critic? What works for you? How do you quiet it when it's not wanted?

How do you manage your dual sides as a writer?

What works for one writer won't necessarily work for all, but the more tricks and tips we have to work around the paralyzing nature of the Critic, the better.

Please share!

Opening a Vein--Or Not

by Annette Lyon

You've probably heard the quote from Walter "Red" Smith:

"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein."

Every writer, from beginning to seasoned, can relate (ever hit your head against a wall and just KNOW there's no way you'll finish your book? And if you ever do, it'll stink? Yeah.).

The writing life has more to drag you down than that dreaded wall: writer's block, rejections and everything (a universe more!) in between.

But what if you stopped writing? Would you be happier?

If you're ever to the point where you're stuck on the "open up a vein" and "this is painful" mentality, I recommend listening to A Conversation on the Writing Life with Natalie Goldberg and Julia Cameron.

The two-hour program covers a variety of topics, but even the first five minutes is enough to lift you up and remember why you started this writing gig to begin with.

Let me remind you: Writing is fun. It brings you joy. It makes you more YOU.

At least, that's what it does for me. Natalie Goldberg says that if she hasn't written that day and you run into her in the afternoon, you can tell. She's less grounded, less herself.

I'm the same way. If I take too much time off from writing, the house is messier. I have less time for the kids and my husband. My entire life seems to implode, and I can't ever catch up.

But when I take a little time here and there for writing, I'm more me. Everything falls into place. Paradoxically, I have more time for all my other demands. I'm a happier person. I'm a better wife. I'm a better mom.

Granted, now that I have deadlines and a publishing schedule, that "little time" can get out of balance and take up a LOT of time. I have to be careful not to let my life get too crowded by writing that other areas suffer.

But at the same time, even when I bemoan the latest critique I got or my low numbers or whatever the gripe of the day might be, I have to remind myself that I'm a writer.

It's who I am.

More importantly, it makes me more me. And that's something to celebrate.

Here's the dirty little secret with writing:

Most of the time, writing doesn't come from angst-ridden, drug-addicted artists starving in some attic in the winter cold. And most of the time there is absolutely no blood-letting involved.

Instead, writing is FUN. Shhhh. Don't tell.

Who's Your Threshold Guardian?

by Annette Lyon

In a recent post I discussed common archetypes for characters and what their roles are in a story.

One of them is the Threshold Guardian. Often the TG is an actual person (the troll on the bridge who refuses to let you pass), but other times it's an event (Cinderella's dress is ripped to shreds, so she can't go to the ball).

Generally speaking, the Threshold Guardian isn't the main antagonist to your hero, although the TG might be one of the antagonist's underlings. But the big battle to defeat that person will come later.

What the Threshold Guardian does is throw up a brick wall to your character's progress, preventing your hero from making a big step forward in the story--a crucial step, something absolutely needed for the hero's growth and, possibly, survival.

At it's simplest, the meeting with the TG is a test. The hero's job is to prove himself or herself worthy of being a the hero of the story. It's also to prove just how badly the hero wants the goal at the end. (How much does Dorothy really want to get home?)

Your hero will encounter more than one Threshold Guardian, and always at pivotal moments, when two possiblilities are faced: turning back or making a big leap forward when the Threshold Guardian is overcome.

Lately as I've been contemplating this particular archetype, similarities to real-life situations have surfaced in my mind.

All too often we get a rejection on a manuscript or run into some other barrier in our writing or elsewhere in life and feel as if we have failed, that we've reached a dead end, that the universe doesn't want us to progress.

What if instead we seized the problem and recognized that these blocks are tests? What if we moved forward to prove ourselves, to show how badly we want to reach the goal at the end--so we know for ourselves just how much we want it and deserve it?

These are moments where the future hangs in the balance, and the direction the scales will tip is based entirely on what your next step will be.

Will you throw in the towel, deciding that this test is actually the end of the road? Or will you analyze your manuscript again to figure out why it wasn't acceptance-worthy? Will you rewrite and submit again? Will you quit? Will you whine and complain?

We are the heros of our own stories. When a problem rears its ugly head, recognize it as a Theshold Guardian and what that means: It's an obstacle that will give you the chance to grow, to learn, and to prove yourself.

Most of all, it's a temporary obstacle. And it's worth getting around, defeating, or making allies with so you can continue your progress, eventually reaching the end of the yellow brick road so you can click your ruby slippers.

Favorite Books on Writing

by Annette Lyon

Over the years I've amassed a pretty decent library of books about writing. I've tossed a few to good will along the way, ones that I found less than useful, but I have many that I consider excellent. If anyone comes near these books with dirty fingers or without express permission, they should expect my wrath.

Sometimes if I feel my creativity and motivation sagging, all I have to do is pick up one of these books and reread it. Suddenly my writing self is in overdrive and story elements start clicking into place.

Below are some of those books, plucked from my bookshelf:


The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron
Part inspirational/part how-to, this book is a guide to freeing your creative self, blasting through writer's block, and affirming your abilities. Basically, nurturing your inner artist. Cameron has several other books along the same lines, and they're all excellent. Among them is Walking in this World and The Right to Write.


Zen in the Art of Writing, by Ray Bradbury
Written by one of the best writers of our time, this book is chock-full of wisdom from someone who knows what they're talking about. It also includes history behind some of his books, such as the one he's possibly most famous for, Fahrenheit 451. Funny, poignant, and spot-on, this one has my scribbles in the margins, underlines, and brackets all over the place.


On Writing, by Stephen King
First, I have to admit that I don't read his novels, and there's one simple reason for that: I know I'd scare myself witless in the process and never sleep again. But this is one amazing writing book. The first section is his publishing story (we can thank his wife, Tabby, for rescuing Carrie from the garbage can, which really launched his career), and the second is specific advice about writing, everything from drafting to rewriting to following proper format guidelines. A don't miss.


Sometimes the Magic Works, by Terry Brooks
Subtitled Lessons from a Writing Life, this book explores writing from the man who is arguably the father of the modern fantasy genre. So much of what he says will ring true (do you also get distracted and daydream about your characters and space out what people are saying to you?). He discusses how he gets ideas, the big outline debate, why he writes, and much more.


Writing in Flow, by Susan K. Perry, Ph.D
A great primer on reminding your creative side how to relax and let the story come. Includes exercises to help you get into flow as well as many people's descriptions of their techniques and what it feels like for them to reach that point where the world falls away and it's just you and your story.


20 Master Plots (And How to Build Them), by Ronald B. Tobias
A fascinating journey of exploration where the author describes the basic plot lines found in virtually all literature (among them: quest, adventure, revenge, rivalry, pursuit, sacrifice, transformation, and maturation). As you read, you can't help but pinpoint which one best describes your story. Even better, you can get a better idea of how to focus it and make your work even better.


Scene and Structure, by Jack M. Bickham
This book pretty much blew my mind when I first read it. I had to rethink a lot about the book I was writing at the time, and while some of his techniques are easier applied to a fast-paced adventure book than the slower historicals I write, this book still helps me to get the tension, conflict, and story problems to work better. A previous post mentions some of his basic concepts.


Character and Viewpoint, by Orson Scott Card
Your characters are the lifeblood of your story. Getting to know them yourself and getting your reader to know them are important. Likewise, it's crucial to learn how to use point of view properly and to the greatest effect.


The Writer's Journey, by Christopher Vogler
As I mentioned last week, this is another excellent book that follows tried and true, time-tested patterns that can be mixed up to create an innumerable amount of fresh, wonderful stories. I'm not done with it yet (I'm digesting it nice and slow so I can savor it), but I think it'll be one of my classics I won't ever get rid of.


Snoopy's Guide to the Writing Life, Edited by Barnaby Conrad and Monte Schulz
Okay, so who doesn't just love Snoopy and his endless quest to be published? This delightful book includes loads of comic strips chronicling Snoopy's writing, submissions, and rejections. In between, over 30 famous writers (Ed McBain, Danielle Steele, Sue Grafton, Fannie Flagg, Julia Child, Elmore Leonard, Jack Canfield, Clive Cussler, and many more) give their own practical advice.


I have other books about writing, including ones with narrow focuses like life in the 1800s, poisons, and forensic medicine, but the ones above are my favorites for overall writing and inspiration.

What about you? Do you have any favorite books on writing that others should look up?

Staying Brilliant

by Annette Lyon

In a recent magazine, I came across a listing of how some of the geniuses of our day keep their minds sharp, honed, and ready to create and think of new things.

One was a writer, but others included an inventor, an engineer, a choreographer, and two scientists, one of whom was a Nobel Prize winner for physics.

What struck me about their methods in keeping their minds alert and active is that all of them are things that work for unleashing the creative writing mind, for smashing through writer's block, and coming up with great new story ideas.

As you read about them below, take note and try one or two next time you start feeling your creative mind begin to slump.

Reach for a book
Sometimes opening your mind to another way of thinking and seeing the word can shake up the dust gathering in your brain. When the pieces settle, you'll find new connections, images, and words. You might see the world with a slightly different lens, and you might even learn something that you could use in a story some day.

Talk it Out
Sometimes when you feel as if you've hit a dead end, it helps to use another person as a sounding board. Who you use doesn't matter (it doesn't have to be a writer; heck, use your five-year-old), because it's not so much their feedback you're looking for as much as hearing yourself explain the problem out loud so you can see it differently. It's amazing how easily plot problems can fix themselves when you've verbalized them. This can be especially effective over the phone, although the jury is out as to why.

Take a Break
If you have the chance to go on vacation to a new place, jump on a plane. New sights, sounds, smells, and experiences fill up your creative bucket like nothing else can. But if heading off to Italy (or even Yellowstone) isn't in the cards, a simple trip to a museum, a park, or even a walk around the neighborhood can "unkink" the knots in your creative side and free you.

Work on Something Else
Running into a roadblock with your fantasy novel? Don't stop writing altogether, just shift directions. Try writing an essay, an article, a mystery, a romance. Exercise a different writing "muscle" for a while, and in no time you'll be ready to return to the project you were struggling with.

Change Your Focus
Take a deep breath, walk away from the computer, and do something else for awhile. Chat with your neighbor over the fence. Watch TiVo. Bake a batch of cookies (extra chocolate chips). Weed the garden. Fold laundry. Doing something else for a while can be all your tired-out brain needs to recharge and get back to work.

Dream About It
Right before bed, think about your writing issues, whether it's character, plot, conflict, or whatever. As you drop off to sleep, your mind will often still be working on the problem, so when you wake up, a solution may well present itself, provided you don't jump out of bed and get going on the day. Let yourself wake up slowly and review the problem and any new ideas that might have occurred as you slept. A refined version of this technique is called lucid dreaming.


Give these techniques a shot. They work for modern-day geniuses; they'll work for you, too.

To Read or Not to Read?

by Annette Lyon

I heard an author once say they were just too busy to read anymore. Those pesky writing and publishing things just took too much time out of the day.

It should be no surprise when I tell you that shortly after this conversation the quality and creativity of this person's work took a serious nose dive.

Why is reading so crucial to be a good writer?

Sure, perhaps you can glean an idea or two from other books. I know I've read novels where I think, "Dang, that's a great verb!" "cool plot twist," "awesome character," or whatever, and mentally file it away for future reference. But that's not why I read.

Through reading, you can also learn a lot that you can later draw on for research purposes. Also good, but not the main reason to be reading, either.

Reading for a writer is like exercise for a runner. If you don't do it, you're going to lose your ability. Reading books opens your brain to new creative voices and fresh images. In a very real way, it recharges your writer's batteries.

To mix metaphors completely, if you aren't feeding your inner artist with a regular diet of stories and words, quite simply, it's going to starve. The inevitable result is that your work will fall flat, lifeless. If you manage to produce anything, you'll begin repeating yourself, not only in word choice but in storylines, characters, and conflicts.

Read a variety: of course read the genre you write in, but branch out as well. Try a new genre, a new author. Read non-fiction as well as fiction. Read newspapers and magazines. Read short stories and poetry. Heck, read cereal boxes, mentally rewrite billboards on the freeway, enjoy bumper stickers.

Work that part of your brain that is connected to images and words, and when it's time to perform, it won't fail you.