When I’m not writing, I’m writing.


 (The tree in my front yard in full bloom.  Wish it stayed like this year round)

Things that are writing that don’t actually look like writing.

  1. Taking my dogs for a walk.  Whereby I run through scenes trying to figure out the mechanics and flow of them.  Then I get home and promptly all those fine laid points going fleeing out of my ming.
  2. Going to watch Cowboys band play at a bar.  I sit, I film, I knit, I think about that German Heavy Metal book I was working on, and figure out where the plot went wrong.  Also don’t take notes and try to trust my mind to remember it.  Sigh…
  3. Texting a friend to come out and watch Cowboy play, and have them criticize the bar for being sketchy.  Shrugging it off, because I actually find the place charming.  Realizing that I am that girlfriend who goes to all the performances, no matter how sketchy the bar, or the local (one time I was at a biker festival, camping in the middle of nowhere in some guys field).  Thinking about the juxtaposition of me and my summer dresses and knitting, and thinking of bar band girlfriends, and how I could work that in to a story.
  4. Driving home late late at night and seeing all the crab apple trees in bloom, and how they look so much different from day to night.  Like ghosts haunting the road side, standing sentinel.  Wanting to use that in a novel.
  5. Walking into work and having ideas on plot points and scribbling them madly on scrap paper, and stuffing them into a pocket to get back to later.
  6. Watching movies, or TV, and thinking oh I like how they did that scene. I could use that type of style in my storytelling.
  7. Reading a book and thinking man I like how they do descriptions.  I need to pay attention to the correlation they make.
  8. Hanging out on twitter, and seeing the political discourse, and thinking about my roll in it, and how that could cross over to my writing.  What do I want to say in response to current events, that will have a long outreach.
  9. Talking about the day job, and how we react to change, and how we can be slow moving, and have to weigh the cost of change against the potential additional problems it will create.  Realizing that I can use this in my writing, and world building.
  10. Living my own love story.  The years of how a relationship builds, seeing the tentpoles of story against the mundane backdrop of every day life, and how that could be written.

Writing doesn’t look like sitting at a keyboard all day.  It’s life experience adding up. It’s reading and consuming stories, and thinking of how those stories are told, and what you can learn from them. It’s quiet moments, or loud moments, away from story, as you let your mind roam over those finer points.  The key is being open to these moments, to observing them and letting them seep in. It’s keeping your writer brain turned on all the time, despite the day job, and whatever else is happening around you.  It’s being open and receptive.  Writers are sponges.  Soak it in, and figure how to filter it out.

Good words, writing peeps.


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