The HEA Cafe

    Everyone knows how wonderful it is to be a romance writer (RW). The RW sits in a lovely garret overlooking a picturesque street with vendors who glance up and wave at her, mysterious (and handsome) men striding about and beautiful women hustling into the shops. Or perhaps you picture the RW in a cabana on the beach with waves breaking on the shore and seagulls crying. It’s all very romantic. Or is it? Is that reality?

     Okay, I admit I once spent a few days sitting on a beach in Hawaii as I plotted a book. It was very romantic. However, it’s a little pricey and quite impractical to do regularly.

  And I once had a holiday trailer. Is that close enough to a cabana? It was parked almost next to a tumbling river under some trees. I loved to escape there and sit in a comfie lounge chair and work. However, the price of parking the trailer became too steep, but more, everyone else decided it was a lovely place and wanted to accompany me. So much for solitude.     You hear of authors who set up shop in a coffee shop. That sounds kind of romantic. I once got happily abandoned at such a place and worked on a story idea for several hours. But close to home…well, I live in a small town and too many people stop by to visit for that to work.

     There are libraries. We have a college nearby and the library is a great place to work. No one notices or cares that you hunker down in a little cubical and scribble or type like mad. But it means dragging my books, my laptop, and my body from point A (my home) to point B (the library). And because I have responsibilities at home, I must take my cell phone and … well, you can guess what happens next.

     So this RW compromises. I have some favorite spots and I recreate them in my mind. After all, I have a rather active imagination. And I can do all this while holed up in my office. I have all my research books at hand. I can field phone calls, answer questions and take care of the life that takes places a few feet away—outside my office. It doesn’t sound very romantic until you take a look at the computer screen and see that I’m not here in this office, I am lost in the midst of a raging snowstorm, or sitting amidst spring violets on a picnic with the man of my dreams. Now that’s romantic.

     How about you RW? Where is the most romantic spot you’ve written from? What is your favorite way to create the romance in your writing corner? Do you need anything to put you in the romance mood? Remember this is for writing purposes only.

I’m a writer. Does that make me an artist? Or is the term confined to sculptors, painters, music, dance and drama? I think not. I think it includes writers. So I am a writer AND an artist. Or at least I’ve thought so on occasion.

However, I’ve been working on a fairly major revision and it’s forcing me to deal with the limitations of my ‘talent’. It brings me full face with the question am I an artist or a hack? (I haven’t answered that and don’t need an answer from anyone else, thanks.)

Creating is hard. Or at least, I can attest that creating story is hard for me at times. How do you take an idea, some imaginary characters and shepherd them on a satisfying journey? It might look easy to some, but give it a try and you might well change your mind. What I see in my head, how I hear my characters and watch them act and react falls flat on the paper. Where are the words that paint the picture? How can I make the story dance and vibrate like it does in my head? Is there a way to do it better?

In an attempt to learn how to make my writing closer to what I want it, I take courses. I read. I get critiques. I listen and read and watch in order to learn the craft but there’s so much to learn and learn and learn. And the more I learn, the more I see there is to know and understand about the whole process. It’s gone from simply writing down a story to thinking about Aristotle’s 3 act structure, the mythical Hero’s Journey, enneagram types, scene and sequel, motivational-reaction units, yada, yada.

The mechanical stuff is great and I need it, but the challenge is still to find a way to combine it with the creative part of story telling. Some say lock the internal editor away until the first draft is done. But no one has told me how. Besides, I appreciate that annoying little voice that whispers, ‘you really think she’d do that?’ It keeps me from chasing down paths in the wrong direction.

So I simply do the best I can. Never quite satisfied. Knowing I haven’t told the story as well as I wanted to. But there is something that gives me courage—I am not alone. Many artists (writers too) share the same frustration. In fact, Leonardo da Vinci said on his deathbed, “I have offended God and mankind because my work did not achieve the quality it should have.” It’s nice to know I’m in good company.

It’s December and the panic is in full swing to do all the Christmas preparation. It’s a time when I find it difficult to keep everything in perspective and when my creativity can almost wither and die if I’m not careful.   

Julia Cameron in her book, The Artist’s Way, discusses what she calls artist’s dates with the goal to fill the creative well. She suggests many ways and points out that artists (writers) can’t keep pouring out creativity from their brain, mind, heart, soul or wherever it comes from, without doing something to fill the well.

I thought I’d share my favorite ways though at this time of year they are more likely to be something I long for rather than something I do. But I like to dream. So in no particular order these are things that refresh my muse: 

Travel. A trip to Paris surrounded by the spirits of famous writers, the sights of old buildings, beautiful flowers along the Seine, the pink light, bistro tables outdoors for coffee, the cacophony of foreign languages…. I could go on and on but while Paris is a great place to fill the well, it is not a place I can just pick up and venture off to at a moment’s notice. There are other destinations. But it is not only the destination that fills my creative well, it’s the process of getting from Point A to Point B, to C, to D and—There is something about being confined to small, moving conveyance, unable to go do anything that focuses my thoughts inward to deeper places within me where stories and ideas lurk. Okay, honesty time here, I am happy to settle for a drive alone in my car most times.

Research. It might be just an excuse for more travel but not necessarily. Reading research books (currently I’m doing research on the history of Banff), poking through museums and galleries, talking to curators, exploring different places and gleaning information fills my head with all sorts of possibilities. And it’s fun. 

Flooding the senses. There is nothing like being surrounded by a glut of color, sound, or delicious scents to give the old muse a lift. Some of my favorite a-musing places quilt shops. I don’t quilt. I don’t have time. But to walk through the racks of variegated-color batts of fabric, to view the beautiful quilts others have made is to flood my senses with color. A favorite sound flood is sitting under a tree in the summer and listening to the various birds. A favorite scent place is flowers. Just to close my eyes and revel in the scent. There are lots of opportunities in the summer—gardens everywhere. In the winter, a visit to the florist works. 

Nap. Yup a nap is a good way to refill the well. It closes down the busy conscious thoughts and gives the subconscious a chance to send information to the surface. In her book, No More Rejections, Alice Orr speaks of keeping paper and pen by the bedside and writing for 10 minutes immediately upon wakening. She says it’s her most productive time, which proves that the muse likes to work in solitude while we sleep. At least I think it proves that. I like my naps even if they tend to be rare this time of year. 

Go to a coffee shop. This probably incorporates several other methods but because it’s so effective and so specific, I consider it a method worthy of it’s own recognition. Not all coffee shops work. It has to be a meditative type place or at least a place where no one stares if you plunk down and start to scribble in a notebook. If you find such a place your muse will thank you with lots of generous handouts. 

Talking to other writers. Put a bunch of writers together and there will be instant conversation on things such a plot, character, how to solve writing problems, how each has done with writing projects and a hundred other writerly things. It’s enough to send my muse into overdrive. A face-to-face meeting is the best. Combined with a coffee shop as in #5 and it’s past wonderful. Monthly meetings with local writing organizations are great. A telephone conversation is good. Email is good. My muse is just plain and simple greedy for other writers to talk to. 

Walk. Alone. Walking in town admiring the flowers and landscaping is good. Walking in the country with just me, my thoughts and nature is even better. 

People watching. This a wonderful way to refresh the muse. There’s just something about people, watching them and wondering what they’re up to. One of the best places to people watch is in a busy airport where people seem completely unselfconscious. But one particular scene from a Tim Horton’s coffee shop stands out in my mind. There was a young family of 4—mother, father, two school age children. The father and children came in first. Little was said. The father stood watching by the table, hesitant, anxious. Then the mother came in. She spoke not a word but from two tables away, I could feel the tension. I knew there had been a disagreement. And I wondered. And mused. 

Do something mindless. Iron (as if), weed the garden, shell peas, mop the floor, dust. Any mindless activity that seems to keep my hands busy but my mind free to roam works. I’ve had some of my best ideas while picking peas or folding laundry. 

Watch TV. Another mindless activity. But watching movies or hour-long dramas often triggers something in my brain. If I tried to explain how something on TV made me think of something in my story that is totally unrelated you would shake your head in disbelief. Perhaps ideas short circuit. 

These are a few of my favorite things for feeding my muse. I’d love to hear what others do. I might pick up a few new activities. 

Julia Cameron in her book, The Artist’s Way, discusses what she calls artist’s dates with the goal to fill the creative well. She suggests many ways and points out that artists (writers) can’t keep pouring out creativity from their brain, mind, heart, soul or wherever it comes from, without doing something to fill the well.
     I thought I’d share my favorite ways. In no particular order:
Travel. A trip to Paris surrounded by the spirits of famous writers, the sights of old buildings, beautiful flowers along the Seine, the pink light, bistro tables outdoors for coffee, the cacophony of foreign languages…. I could go on and on but while Paris is a great place to fill the well, it is not a place I can just pick up and venture off to at a moment’s notice. There are other destinations. But it is not only the destination that fills my creative well, it’s the process of getting from Point A to Point B, to C, to D and—There is something about being confined to small, moving conveyance, unable to go do anything that focuses my thoughts inward to deeper places within me where stories and ideas lurk.

Research. It can be just an excuse for more travel but not necessarily. Reading research books (currently I’m doing research on the history of Banff), poking through museums and galleries, talking to curators, exploring different places and gleaning information fills my head with all sorts of possibilities. And it’s fun.

Flooding the senses. There is nothing like being surrounded by a glut of color, sound, or delicious scents to give the old muse a lift. Some of my favorite a-musing places quilt shops. I don’t quilt. I don’t have time. But to walk through the racks of variegated-color batts of fabric, to view the beautiful quilts others have made is to flood my senses with color. A favorite sound flood is sitting under a tree in the summer and listening to the various birds. A favorite scent place is flowers. Just to close my eyes and revel in the scent.

Nap. Yup a nap is a good way to refill the well. It closes down the busy conscious thoughts and gives the subconscious a chance to send information to the surface. In her book, No More Rejections, Alice Orr speaks of keeping paper and pen by the bedside and writing for 10 minutes immediately upon wakening. She says it’s her most productive time. Which proves that the muse likes to work in solitude while we sleep. At least I think it proves that.

Go to a coffee shop. This probably incorporates several other methods but because it’s so effective and so specific, I consider it a method worthy of it’s own recognition. Not all coffee shops work. It has to be a meditative type place or at least a place where no one stares if you plunk down and start to scribble in a notebook. If you find such a place your muse will thank you with lots of generous handouts.

Talking to other writers. Put a bunch of writers together and there will be instant conversation on things such a plot, character, how to solve writing problems, how each has done with writing projects and a hundred other writerly things. It’s enough to send my muse into overdrive. A face-to-face meeting is the best. Combined with a coffee shop as in #5 and it’s past wonderful. Monthly meetings with local writing organizations are great. A telephone conversation is good. Email is good. My muse is greedy for other writers to talk to.

Walk. Alone. Walking in town admiring the flowers and landscaping is good. Walking in the country with just me, my thoughts and nature is even better.

People watching. This a wonderful way to refresh the muse. There’s just something about people, watching them and wondering what they’re up to. One of the best places to people watch is in a busy airport where people seem completely unselfconscious. But one particular scene from Tim Horton’s stands out in my mind. There was a young family of 4—mother, father, two school age children. The father and children came in first. Little was said. The father stood by the table, hesitant, anxious. Then the mother came in. She spoke not a word but from two tables away, I could feel the tension. I knew there had been a disagreement. And I wondered. And mused.

Do something mindless. Iron (as if), weed the garden, shell peas, mop the floor, dust. Any mindless activity that seems to keep my hands busy but my mind free to roam works. I’ve had some of my best ideas while picking peas or folding laundry.

Watch TV. Another mindless activity. But watching movies or hour-long dramas often triggers something in my brain. If I tried to explain how something on TV made me think of something in my story that is totally unrelated you would shake your head in disbelief. Perhaps ideas short circuit.
 
These are a few of my favorite things for feeding my muse. I’d love to hear what others do. I might pick up a few new activities.

I bought a book, Pencil Dancing; new ways to free your creative spirit, by Mari Messer. It’s the kind of book that makes me want to page through it while I sit under a shady tree and drink coffee.
Partly, it’s the size—a little wider than a normal book yet not large enough to think ‘homework.’ It’s more reminiscent of an old-fashioned schoolroom scribbler and seems to promise all sorts of secrets. There are little drawing in the book that invite flights of imagination. The format is appealing—lots of wide margins, which suggest the reader might like to make notes and comments. And throughout, in the margins, are quotes like this one, “The process has an intelligence that can be trusted, and the gift of creation is the ability to work with it,” by Shaun McNiff. From a book Trust the Process. Now I know nothing of Shaun M or his book but I like the idea of trusting the process. It’s something I am learning to do.
     Then there are the headings and chapter titles in a cursive font. “Befriending Your Beasts”, “Creating From the Inside Out”, “Dancing With You Creative Spirit.”
     It’s the sort of book that calls to the creative spirit like a whisper, a beckoning finger, promising to share secrets.
     I love the concept of pencil dancing. I dream of the day my pencil will dance over the page, leaving in its wake a stupendous story. Unfortunately I haven’t found it works that way. Instead, I have to work at my stories. Only as I whine and moan and complain does the story come out. Or maybe the whining is only a diversion. Maybe it’s sitting down and dwelling on the whole idea, arranging and rearranging elements until they click that gets the story figured out. Yet I somehow keep wishing for the dancing pencil.
     Maybe I’ll find some golden nugget in this book that will help me.
All I need is some time to dive into the book though it is perhaps the sort of book to be nibbled at and digested slowly. I’m sure it’s the latter, which is a good thing because that’s the only way I’ll be able to get at it.