Taking Time to Recharge

by Jewel Leann Williams

I don't know about anyone else, but with summer comes doldrums. I mean, BIG time doldrums. Not only does it feel like the crispy oven-like heat will just never end (yup, I'm an Arizonan), but my whole family is home, and they are all cranky and uncooperative from staying up late, getting up late, and not being able to go outside for fear of instant vaporization a la Raiders of the Lost Ark. We tend to sort of sit around in a funk, unless we have miraculously planned some escape from it for the day.

(Disclaimer: I'm not whining, really. I work nights and my husband is working days; it becomes difficult to schedule outings and things, so yeah, we really are that family that was binge-watching before binge-watching was cool.)

At any rate, all of this makes it very hard to write, even my biweekly blog.

Add to that the mayhem of the past month or so, and my head is spinning, my heart is hurting, and I am at a loss for what I could possibly say that would matter an iota in the grand scheme of things.

It occurs to me that other people may be feeling the same, or at least suffering some of the symptoms of the summer (and world insanity) doldrums.  In that spirit, I present to you some ideas for recharging your writer's mind, body, and soul.

First and foremost, we all need to acknowledge that we NEED recharging. As moms, wives, and creative minds, we tend to think we always need to be "on"--that's just not true. We don't expect athletes to play games every single day with no break, or dentists or doctors to do their dentistry and doctoring 24/7, yet we don't often give ourselves permission to take a break.  I'm also proposing that this break can't just be an escape-break, but needs to be one specifically designed to recharge. (Sometimes escaping is all we need to recharge, but sometimes, we just go back to the same grind and the battery depletes itself faster than a 2005 Nokia battery.)

Okay, with that said, here are some tips:

UNPLUG!!! Not only do many of our electronic past-times (talking to you, Facebook) waste our time, but we tend to get caught up in the emotions of our newsfeeds.

Something like this:

ThatpuppyissocuteOHmygoshsomethingelseinFrancePLEASEdon'tvoteforTrumpClinton3rdpartiesFullerHouseisthebestshowBlackLivesMatterBlueLivesMatterThatrecipelooksamazing....

Up, down, love, anger, frustration, fear--emotional stimulus without any time for processing, without any real physical engagement--it is taxing and it is draining your emotional battery. So dump it, even if only for a day. But for that day, REALLY dump it. Rest your psyche a little.

Get back to nature:

Did you know that camping, REALLY camping, leaving all the man-made light and devices at home (you can have a campfire... and if the bathroom is far, a flashlight)--has been shown to reset your body's biological clock and combat the detrimental effects of artificially altering our circadian rhythms?  It's true! (Those detrimental effects range from the mild morning drowsies, to weight gain, substance abuse, mood disorders.... yuck.) Here's a link to the article (which has its own link to an informative video): https://directorsblog.nih.gov/2013/08/29/reset-your-body-clock-with-a-camping-trip/


But even if you can't camp, going for a walk in a park, sitting outside in the moonlight, breathing air that didn't go through a machine to get to you--connecting with nature can help clear your head and give you a boost. Sometimes that little added zip is what you might need to refocus.

Exercise.  I groan even as I type it. But did you know that exercise increases your mitochondria? When I read this, I instantly thought of Charles Wallace's little farandolae and mitochondria in A WIND IN THE DOOR, the sequel to one of my favorite books, A WRINKLE IN TIME. Charles Wallace is sick and his mitochondria are dying, leaving him constantly out of breath. Saving the mitochondria is key to saving him, and the universe.

But I digress. Mitochondria are the energy powerhouses of our cells. Exercise makes mitochondria grow, thereby giving our cells and our bodies much needed energy.

Also:

This brings me to another point:

Spend time--real time--with the people you love, or with people who inspire you.  I'm also saying that it needs to be real time, reconnecting time. Not "everyone sitting around watching a movie" time, or "Oh my gosh just please can we do the dishes" time.  But the kind of time that reminds you why you like these people to begin with. Time that reminds you why you like YOU.

It can even be spending real, quality time, with the person you want to be. Remember when you were a fired-up, can't nothin' hold me back, look out world, kind of writer? What made that person tick? What did you do then? Sometimes getting in touch with that person can help you to get back to that place.

This is where ANWA (or other writers' groups, or even an informal group of writerly friends) can really help. Conferences, retreats, meetings, even write-in's have always helped me to truly recharge and reconnect to the reason I write, and help me to find the muse that seems to be increasingly finicky the busier and more zombified-by-my-crazy-life I get.

Alrighty, there you have it. A few tips. I think I'll off and try one or more of those.  Once you've recharged, get back to writing!! You don't want to waste all of your newly charged batteries now, do ya?

What are some tried-and-true methods you have for recharging your writerly battery?  Share in the comments!

Happy National Poetry Month!

We are eleven days into National Poetry Month, established in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets.  The purpose of the celebration, in a nutshell, is to celebrate poetry's place in our lives, and to help ensure that its legacy continues.

Is poetry important? I would say that it is not only important, but necessary. Not only that, I believe that it is organic--poetry won't ever "go away," because it comes from inside and pours out of us. There are many who call themselves "poets," but I would argue that in some shape or form, we are ALL poets. In his speech "Tide of Voices--Why Poetry Matter Now," poet Mark Doty asserts that poetry is "a way to speak. A way to be heard." I recommend reading his entire speech--it is poetry in itself and gives a great explanation as to why poetry matters today more than ever. The talk can be found here: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/tide-voices-why-poetry-matters-now

I myself love to write poetry. My poems sometimes rhyme, but usually do not. I don't have any form for them, although if one were to analyze them, maybe in 100 years in some high-school literature class, form may be found.  But mostly, the words bubble up and I write them down. I don't edit them much, and I've learned not to ask for critiques because when people suggest I change the words, it chafes at my poetic sensibilities as if my muse is offended that her offerings were not accepted. For that reason, I'm not sure if my poetry is meant for anyone's consumption other than my own, as a way for me to understand myself.  At any rate, for me, poetry happens more than anything.

One of my ANWA colleagues, Stephanie Abney, does a whole month of poetry on her blog, Stephanie Says So. She posts a daily tutorial on a different form of poetry and her own offerings in that form, and then invites her readers to try it out and put their poems in the comments. I've learned tons about poetry that I never even knew I didn't know.

So how can you celebrate National Poetry Month? The Academy of American Poets posts the following list of 30 suggestions on their website, poetry.org:

30 ways to celebrate national poetry month

1. Order a free National Poetry Month poster and display it at work or school.
2. Sign up for Poem-a-Day and read a poem each morning.
3. Deepen your daily experience by reading Edward Hirsch’s essay “How to Read a Poem.”
4. Memorize a poem.
5. Create an anthology of your favorite poems on Poets.org.
6. Encourage a young person to participate in the Dear Poetproject.
7. Buy a book of poetry from your local bookstore.
8. Review these concrete examples of how poetry matters in the United States today.
9. Learn more about poets and poetry events in your state.
10. Ask your governor or mayor for a proclamation in support of National Poetry Month.
11. Attend a poetry reading at a local university, bookstore, cafe, or library.
12. Read a poem at an open mic. It’s a great way to meet other writers in your area and find out about your local poetry writing community.
13. Start a poetry reading group.
14. Write an exquisite corpse poem with friends.
15. Chalk a poem on the sidewalk.
16. Write a letter to a poet thanking them for their work.
17. Ask the United States Post Office to issue more stampscelebrating poets.
18. Recreate a poet’s favorite food or drink by following his or her recipe.
19. Read about different poetic forms.
20. Read about poems titled “poem.”
21. Read the first chapter of Muriel Rukeyer’s inspiring book,The Life of Poetry.
22. Subscribe to American Poets magazine or a small press poetry journal.
23. Watch Rachel Eliza Griffiths' latest Poets on Poetry video.
24. Watch or read Carolyn Forche’s talk “Not Persuasion, But Transport: The Poetry of Witness.”
25. Read or listen to Mark Doty’s talk “Tide of Voices: Why Poetry Matters Now.”
26. Read Allen Ginsberg’s classic essay about Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass.”
27. Watch a poetry movie.
28. Sign up for a poetry class or workshop.
29. Get ready for Mother’s Day by making a card featuring aline of poetry.
30. Celebrate National Poem in Your Pocket Day on April 30, 2015. The idea is simple: select a poem you love, carry it with you, then share it with coworkers, family, and friends.

Here's my own little poetic offering today to close: 

Go out and celebrate

'Tis a short thirty days

To honor the words

that pour forth, that draw out

the sighs, the laughter, the tears

That bring understanding 

That link us all in our

fumbling humanity.

Insecurity Blankets

By Nikki Wilson

It’s been awhile since I’ve written on the blog. I have lots of really good excuses, I promise, but the fact of the matter is that I miss it. I miss writing about my thoughts and insecurities. Because when I write about them I gain a perspective I don’t have when I just try to live with them. 

How cool to be in the same category of ANYTHING as Sarah Eden?

Last weekend I attended the American Night WritersAssociation’s writing conference. I’ve told you on numerous occasions how much I love this conference. Every time I go, it’s like coming home. It’s a hotel full of “my people”. Also, there is such a great spirit present at this conference and I always feel a great confirmation that I should be there and that writing is what I’m supposed to do. At the conference I always become a little less introverted and a little more extroverted. I speak without thinking as much as I normally would and I introduce myself to new people more than normal as well. While at the conference I feel great and I’m on a high (that’s purely natural, I swear!)

But then I come home and insecurity blankets all my thoughts. I think things like, I shouldn’t have said that, or maybe that person was annoyed by me but was too nice to say anything. Above all, insecurities about my writing abilities don’t just blanket me, they smother me. I think things like, I’ll never be as good as THAT person, or I’ll never be a presenter at a writer conference, I’ll always be the attendee because I’ll never learn enough to be that good. But one thing we learned at the conference this year, (Thanks to Regina Sirois) is that we can’t compare our accomplishments to the accomplishments of others. And I am trying to get better at that. And I’ve been praying for help to leave my insecurities behind and allow myself to believe in my divine potential as a daughter of God. 

The other day I was feeling too sick to go to Stake Conference (I have a sinus infection an ear infection). So I stayed home and cued up a session from last General Conference. The talk that really spoke to me was by Elder Jorg Glebingat called, “Approaching the Throne of God with Confidence”. I really recommend that you read it. He talks about 6 ways we can increase our spiritual confidence. I plan on printing them up and working on them each day to help dispel my personal and spiritual insecurities. But it got me thinking that a lot of the ways he says we can gain spiritual confidence are also close to the ways I can gain confidence in myself as a writer. So these are my 6 steps to writing confidence:

1.       Take responsibility for my time to write. Stop blaming others or my circumstances, stop justifying, and stop making excuse for why I’m not writing/editing as much as I should.

2.       Don’t neglect my physical well-being. I can’t just hole up in my room waiting for words to come. I need to move and exercise and take care of myself. Usually words start coming when I’m physically engaged in something even if it’s just going for a walk.

3.       Embrace the thoughts and words that come into my mind. Many times I don’t write some of my thoughts because I think I will be judged by them or I’m afraid to offend someone.  (This is where blog writing comes in. I tell you guys some of my biggest insecurities and you don’t judge me. Thank you for that!)

4.       Become really, really good at editing thoroughly and quickly. I’m still trying to learn this one. Often I know what’s wrong with my stories, but the amount of work it takes to fix it often overwhelms me and I quit. But if I learn to accept this task as a part of my life as a writer, I will stop fearing it and soon learn to excel at it.

5.       Become really, really good at forgiving myself and my deficiencies. Writing is a process that takes time. I need to be understanding of my learning process and be patient. It helps me to picture myself talking to my daughter who also writes and telling her how talented she is and to be patient with herself. I can feel how much I believe that and believe in her. Then I can try to carry those thoughts and emotions over to myself.

Yes, those are super cool agents laughing at my agony! LOL

6.       Accept trials, setbacks, and rejection as part of my writing experience. At the ANWA conference this year they had an Antagonist Gala. I went as every book’s antagonist…rejection letters. Of course I have a good supply of those on my email. But when I went to find them I realized I hadn’t queried an agent in 5 years! Those other rejection letters had paralyzed me. I convinced myself it was because my writing wasn’t good enough yet, that’s why I hadn’t tried, but the truth is, I couldn’t get past the rejection. I didn’t want to accept the rejection as part of my experience. Because I didn’t want to experience it ever again. But that’s just not possible in this business and I need to learn to embrace the rejections as a part of the process. (I’ll have you know I thought I had, but in looking back I realized I was just kidding myself.)

These are my six steps to writing confidence. Though prayer isn't on the list, it's a given for me. If you have any other steps you think would help, please add them in the comments. I hope that by remembering these I can become a better writer and a better person.

Thoughts Tonight on Sacrifice

Facebook is full of all the embracing friends, smiling faces, clever costumes, and photo ops with published authors and/or famous writers that make up the ANWA Annual Conference. I glance at them from time to time on my phone as I:

Awake with a start at my little girl’s snore, realizing I missed my alarm and my preschooler will NOT be attending school today, so I roll over and look at all the things my phone tells me I missed;

Check my phone as it dings with more updates while I wait for my 11-year-old and aforementioned other children to put shoes on so we can get to that emergency doctor’s appointment to check out the mysterious and worrisome spots covering the 11-year-old’s body;

Log on to Facebook to inform the people in my ward, and then those who attended a going-away-part at my house this week while I was at work, that I have a child who may have the chicken pox, and to watch their kids carefully because he’s likely been  (highly) contagious for a week now;

Check during a break at work to see what’s happening in the world.

I’m sad. I love the ANWA Conference, and this year because I am working all night and having to sleep and do the Mom thing during the day, there’s just not any time to even pop in for an event or an afternoon session. It’s just one step further away from the dream of earning a living writing.

Then, I see some other things on Facebook:

Postings from a friend who is married to a cop, of their child’s birthday party, with a caption: “Since Daddy can’t be here, here are some pictures of XXX’s party for him! We love you, Daddy!”;

A link to a news article talking about a veteran of WWII;

A post about the Egyptian Coptic Christians beheaded this past week; and lastly,

A link to a GoFundMe page for my friends, the Masch’s—Scott needs a kidney. His wife Connie, found out that she is a match and able to give him one of hers, and she is beyond ecstatic. All they talk about is how much they are blessed and how much the Lord is mindful of them.

I think about the sacrifices I make for my family. Some are big, some are not so big. My husband sacrifices for me; friends have sacrificed; there’s our clergy, our military, our public safety—so many sacrifices made for each of us. Sometimes we really feel it, and sometimes, it’s not a big deal.

The Savior gave Himself as the ultimate sacrifice. We know how much He felt it, that He sweat great drops of blood and wished to have the trial removed. But praise be, He completed it.

What is it that these sacrifices have in common?

Love.

From the fun party I wished I could’ve attended tonight, to the long hours my bishop puts in away from his family, to the lives of those who gave them in service of country, to the ultimate Atonement of my Savior, the common denominator is love.

Not only the giving of love, but the growing of love. When I do things, little things or big things, the love I feel for the person(s) I am sacrificing for gains strength, speed, momentum. That blessing is not always instant, but it is always there.

Conversely, when I acknowledge the sacrifice someone else makes for me, I feel my love for them grow as well. The extent to which I ponder the sacrifice and understand its depth is the extent to which my love grows.

Do you think this is by design?

Is it by what we are willing to give of ourselves that we can measure our love?

Am I Still A....

"I recently started a new full-time job."  It's telling that I recall writing that line many times as the start of a blog article, or an email, or a text. Often those articles, emails, and texts are written to explain flaking out on a commitment, not going to something I planned on attending, or just disappearing from my previous circles of influence. 

So yeah. I started a full-time job. It's about 35 minutes away (on a good day), and I work all night. So my schedule is completely messed up. I have given up quite a few things; sacrifices that are necessary--and given in full realization of the huge blessing that this job is in my life--but sacrifices nonetheless. 

I never see my husband. If I stay awake when I get home, for an extra 45 minutes, I can kiss him good morning/good night and have a few minutes' worth of conversation. I see him when I am ready to leave for work, long enough to figure out what I'm taking for dinner and kiss him goodbye. Then we text when we can at night to try and communicate household needs. 

Am I still a wife? 

I spend some time with my two younger children, and I see my oldest for a few minutes in the afternoon. But three of my kids only see me in passing in the evening, and it's usually "did you do your homework?" "Please clean your room," "don't forget to do the dishes," "PLEASE don't be jerks to your dad tonight, be helpful," things like that. 

Am I still a mother?

My friends, my extended family, my visiting teaching sisters, all of them have gotten those "Sorry, I have to work," or "I'm just exhausted," or, in the case of some, just my absence and silence.....

Am I still a friend? A daughter? A sister?

I've not been to church for a few weeks. I've been sick, mind you, but that sickness has been exacerbated by my exhaustion from working with little sleep and trying to hold it together for my family. 

Am I still an active member of my ward?

As you read this, you're probably emphatically thinking, "YES! Just because your role has changed, doesn't make you any less of a wife, mother, friend, member of your ward, etc. etc." I have to make adjustments to those roles, but nothing changes the fact that I am all of those things. 

I now work every week night. I work, I come home and try to sleep, I get two little kids ready when they wake up, get one to school, try to nurture the youngest for a few hours until my high-schooler gets home, I try to get a couple more hours of sleep, I rise and shower, get dressed as fast as I can, grab dinner, kiss the hottie, hug the kids, and go to work. There's no time for ANWA meetings, in person or online. I won't see a conference center for a few years, until I've gained permanent status and vacation days at my job. Blogging----well, I've been (maybe) noticeably absent and totally flaky. NaNoWriMo.... hahahahahahahahaha. Enough said about that, since my job started the middle of November.  My characters, stories, poetry, everything--they (might) miss me. I miss them. When I have time to think, which isn't often. 

Am I still a writer?

It's funny. I let my ANWA membership expire. On purpose. I didn't think ANWA and I had anything to offer each other in my current "season." 

Then, I got an email telling me it had expired. Whoa. Within five minutes of receiving the email, I had renewed it on the website. I'm not ready to say goodbye.

Because, at the heart of it all, YES! I am still a writer! Writers write and all that be damned, I am a writer. My writing consists of grocery lists and amazingly competent answers to questions about SEC filing document processing, but I write. I still have the urge. The characters and stories are still there, calling out to me amidst the fog of sleep deprivation. 

In the same way that my changing role and abilities don't make me any less of a wife, mother, friend, etc., I am not any less of a writer because my role and ability to dedicate time to writing have changed. Nothing changes the fact that I am a writer. 

So, I'm back in the fold in ANWA. I'm learning how to mother my children with much less time. Adjusting things to give me better time with my superhero husband (who has had to make major adjustments and totally be Mr. Mom every weeknight now).  I will adjust and learn how to fit the what and the how of writing into the who of "writer." 

If you're a writer, you're a writer. Don't give up, and don't ever think you can escape it. It's who you are. 

--Leann 

BOB and Me

The BOB (Beginning of Book) Awards at the ANWA Conference last week had an original submission deadline of December 31st. There were several different genres to enter the first 500 words of your story (Or possibly the whole thing in the children's book category), but I was so swamped, including one child with a tooth abscess and another with a double ear infection over Christmas day, and then leaving a day late for our family vacation, the deadline came and went and I went, "Oh. Maybe next year."

Then the deadline got extended (maybe everyone was as swamped as I was). And when I didn't get Fairy Godfather finished in time to pitch it, I decided to take the $20 dollars I'd paid to pitch and split it between two entries for the contest. I knew I had the beginnings done, at any rate. I felt confident about "Fairy Godfather", entered in the middle grade/YA category, and not so confident about "The King Killer" in speculative/sci-fi/fantasy, but they were the best ones I had at the time, so I sent them in. And forgot about it. I wasn't going to win. Not a contest where I was competing against others.

The ANWA conference was the highlight of my year so far. So many great classes, hobnobbing with other writers, sitting with Nikki at the Mormon Mommy Writers table selling our "Totally Cliche'" books: I loved every second of it. It went way too fast.

Saturday lunch came and I honestly had forgotten about the contest until I noticed the announcing of it in the schedule. I started to get a little excited (Maybe I'd win!), but I also knew the caliber of the writers I'd be up against. Many of them published already. So when they started the announcing, I kept my anticipation down. I felt genuine gladness for the other women as they went up to accept their awards. I'd even forgotten what categories I'd entered, exactly, since they covered more than one genre.

They announced speculative fiction 2nd or 3rd, and my good friend Jennifer Griffith won 2nd place. (Yay! Go Jen!) I didn't place at all with "King Killer", but I couldn't remember what category it was in, so I had to look at the critique sheets I got back to remember which one I'd chosen and lost in. ;)
They went through all the rest of the categories, and YA/middle grade was last. I HAD remembered that "Fairy Godfather" was in this category. The tension built as they announced 3rd place. "DeAnn Huff, for 'Master of Emotion'!" And we clapped and cheered as she received her award and posed for a picture.
Now 2nd place. "Tanya Parker Mills for 'The School of Guardians'!" And we clapped and cheered as she walked up and took her award and smiled for the camera.
It was now or never. Had the judges hated my book? I wouldn't be surprised. I knew I should have looked it over again. Tweaked something. Maybe chucked it all together. If I go screaming from the room, will anybody notice?
"First place goes to Megan Oliphant for 'Fairy Godfather'!"
I WON!!! I squealed like a six year old on Christmas seeing her Cabbage Patch doll under the tree as I rushed up to take my turn to smile at the camera.
Through out the remainder of the conference, I would randomly lean over to the person next to me and say, "I won!" I had to keep saying it out loud because I didn't believe it.  But here it is. I even have a picture of it to prove it.

This is the first time since maybe the sixth grade that I won anything on merit. Sure, I'd done a lot of other things since then, but I got tired of doing everything I could (or not doing everything I could and knowing I hadn't) and then place 2nd. Or not at all.

So yeah. I don't entirely suck. Maybe I do have something of worth to offer. I'm feeling very Sally Field-ish right now. (I wasn't quite this effusive, however.)


Well, now that my motivation has reached an all time high, I think I'll go write some more. :)

Goals: Why I LOATHE them, but they're Good For Me

I hate to fail. I'm sure it's something I've struggled with since before time began, but I hate it. I am not one of those people who can just pick themselves up and and dust themselves off everytime they fall. I am a lay-down-on-the-ground-kicking-and-screaming-and-having-the-biggest-tantrum-ever kind of person. (Well, at least on the inside.)

I've always had a hard time judging just what I am capable of. I know the Lord knows me better than I do, so as I've matured, I've tried to rely more on the Spirit rather than "the arm of the flesh".

Well, this past week I signed up for a writer's conference in February, the annual ANWA conference. I also (gulp) signed up for a pitch session with Jane Dystel, head of Dystel and Goderich Literary Management (ack! Gasp!) But to pitch you must have something finished. I do not. I need to finish. I need to polish. I need to do a lot more to get this current story ready for the big time.

So now I have to Make A Goal. But what goal, do you ask? I could say, "have Fairy Godfather finished by conference". BUT....that would leave me without time to polish, let it sit and simmer, get it out to beta readers, etc.

So, you say, get it done by...January. Sure, I could, but that would only give me a few weeks to get it out and back and polished. NOT that you take your manuscript to the pitch session. It's like a query letter in person, so they REALLY don't want to haul 20 reams of paper back with them. But it would be nice to be able to send it out right after the conference if she requests anything.

So...I need more than 6 weeks to get it ready.

So, you say, get it done by mid-December. Before Christmas, so it doesn't interfere with anything else during the holidays.  You're getting warmer, but I still think that 8 weeks is not enough time for it to simmer. I wanted at least a month of not looking at it before I did some editing and sent it out to beta readers.

Okay, you reply. How about NaNoWriMo? Finish it using NaNo. Weeeellllll....maybe. If I have to. If I haven't succeeded in my first tier goal. Which is....drum roll please.....finish it by Halloween. Gasp. (I think I might faint just thinking it.) I've never written that much in such a short amount of time. I'm terrified. WHAT IF I FAIL!!!!!?????

But I know this is what the Lord wants from me. I have to do the work, He won't write it for me, but the internal pressure from constant nudging from the Spirit will not let me rest. I HAVE to get this done. On this time frame, or I will be scrambling at the end, and that's not what I want. I want to do this calmly, with deliberate steps, not my usual scraping up the dregs, dragging a trail of toilet paper behind me as a I run around squawking like a headless chicken. I need to become that person that does the right thing when it's the right thing to do.

So...um...I better go get to work.