Change of Venue

Can anyone deny that we’re creatures of habit? Even if we’re constantly trying something different, that constitutes a habit of its own. There’s just no escaping the habitual label. [smile] I myself tend to be more of the traditional habit type versus the adventurous sort. Sure, I’ll give most things a go (my motto in youth was “try everything at least once”) but when it comes to routine I tend to stay with what works.

This week marks the beginning of my nomadic writing experience. Not surprisingly, this wasn’t triggered by some awesome inspiration but by the temporary closure of my normal writing venue. I tend to think of The Bedford Library as “the office” or “work” as most of us refer to it. They’re closed for approximately three weeks to conduct what I can only guess to be minor upgrades. It was all I could do not to ask if one of the tasks to be completed was replacing the carpet which is the only real deficiency I’ve noted about “my office.” I thought it better to keep my comments to myself. Nobody likes a nagging tenant… especially one that doesn’t pay proportionally to their usage!

What did strike me about my visits to different writing locations is how much we are all the product of our environment. Again, we’re not breaking any new ground here, but the lessons are sometimes so simple that we neglect the power of their true implementation. The effect of my surroundings on my writing was but one of the elements that brought this to my attention recently. One of the most widely accepted precepts of being a modern writer is that you must also be a modern reader, voracious if you can manage it. This is the most basic element of “your environment” as a writer as you’re clearly shaping your mind by what you put into it. This goes quite a bit beyond just learning by example, which might be truer of reading someone else’s computer code.

Then there was a passage in the Dhammapada, a Buddhist collection of writings that was part of a monthly book review group I started participating in. There are numerous translations of the original text into English, but the one I was provided included this as stanza 61:

If, in your course, you don't meet
your equal, your better,
then continue your course,
     firmly,
         alone.
There's no fellowship with fools.

Some of the other translations spelled out a little more clearly the importance of the company you keep. This really gave me pause to think about who I spend my time with and who I “follow” for lack of a better word. In today’s society we have the benefit of advanced communication and the ability to essentially be a follower of someone that we’ve never personally met or ever will. While that’s a positive product of technology, the flip side is that we rarely get to interact with these influencers, whether they’re miles away or long dead.

Without delving too far into the philosophical nature of all this, the real power of this concept is much simpler. Don’t like the “output” of your life? Then change the input. We’ve probably all heard the stories that sometimes when your life has gone down such a destructive path you need to change your friends to heal yourself. Why let it get to that point? We all have the capability to examine our life, our situations and consciously make efforts to alter their course. This doesn’t have to mean leaving friends behind or changing our associates, sometimes all that’s necessary is a constructive discussion around the viewpoints that you feel are incompatible with your own.

Pursuing that tract takes strength of character and conviction. Not things that should be taken lightly… but things may very well be the desired outcome of any honest introspection. Sometimes a change in surroundings forces you to reexamine everything, even yourself.

Vacation... Really?!

When you let a blog sit for too long without posting, does it develop cobwebs? Or are they “blogwebs?” Good thing for me my book isn’t about humor, right?

There’s been lots of personal activity since my last post that doesn’t really have to do with writing. Trips to New York to visit an ill relative (all good now) and drama surrounding vehicle repairs and state inspections unexpectedly made their way onto the agenda. In addition, I took not just one but two vacations in April. Which got me to thinking, can you really take vacations from writing a book? I’m certain this is true, the more amusing question is, when you don’t work as hard as a “real job” might require, should it be considered a vacation?

The truth is it does make a difference. Putting the work down and not thinking about it for a while helps to come back a litter fresher. Additionally, being “on vacation” brings back memories of regular work routines and reignites the desire to accomplish things. There’s something about travel that makes you think your world could be very different and fresh ideas about how that could happen seem to appear. Since returning from these vacations I’ve had better discipline and work output than previously and I continue to feel motivated.

Steven King doesn’t speak of vacation, but he does talk about writing your first draft and then putting it aside for six weeks before coming back to it and reading it as though it’s the first time. I’ll likely try this when I have anything that resembles a first draft, however I have visions that by the time I have something that’s close to a completed draft, it will be beyond the standard of a first draft.

Another area I’ve turned to for motivation is a different form of structure. What’s the primary reason for any job? To be compensated of course, however the factors of my situation don’t really allow for that at the present moment. So, someone suggested to me, “Why don’t you write yourself a check every week like you’re getting paid for what you do?” It was an intriguing thought and it actually made its way into my routine. I calculated some hopeful amounts and timetables and came up with what my weekly paycheck should be. Since I already track my word count as part of this process, each week I include the number of words I added on the memo line. Sometimes (okay, most times) there’s a twinge of agony knowing that I’m “getting paid” for that amount of work. “Couldn’t you get more done in a week?!” is generally the self-deprecating question. So while guilt is not a favorite tool of mine, in this case I’m using it gently to keep reminding me that this is work and when finished there’s likely some financial payback, however modest.

Finally, there’s that all important “human interaction” aspect that I noted in a previous post. Having people that are interested in your work or are willing to discuss topics of concern helps to sharpen your ideas and thoughts. I’m fortunate to have a few individuals to play this role and that benefits me immensely. Okay, one more of my sources of inspiration are the occasional news stories that I see indicating the population is drifting towards the ideas I hope to convey. Knowing not only that there’s a market for what you hope to produce but a growing one is possibly the biggest motivator for some people, but for me, I think it’s more of simply a reassurance.

Here’s to a great summer!