As traditional and ubiquitous with the season as turkey and pumpkin pie, I’m taking the plunge again this year at attempting to complete NaNoWriMo 2022, otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month.

For those who are new to it, this is the time of year set aside for all writers (and those attempting to become writers) to put real focus into the goal of creating your book (or screenplay, poems, etc.) This will be my third year to try to achieve the goal of 50,000 works written in a month. The actual goal is different for everyone but that’s the stated goal for the group.

My first year, I had just completed writing and published my first book, “A Study in Sod: a Hiawatha Falls Mystery” and wanted to focus in on getting started on my second book in the series. I found, later, that this may have been too big a goal because I didn’t get anywhere near the target. To be fair, I was just beginning my journey at that point and still needed to focus more on building my skill set and basics habits. But this is what the goal is for; finding what works and what doesn’t for yourself and your style. Hats off (BTW) to everyone who did get a book written in a month. I stand in awe of your glory. I fell short by half the mark that year but I logged it as a win.

Year Two was a little tougher. I had just had breast cancer surgery and was still recovering, and at the time I was focused on my mental health as well and with the work I was doing there, my brain was almost as exhausted as my body. Don’t get me wrong, I did okay, but again my goal shifted into something other than the specific number of words each day.

This year, I now have a better understanding of what I should be using this time for. I’m working on the second book again, and this time I have a short story too. I’ve lowered the personal goal number down to 35,000 and am accepting a combined word count from both projects to achieve that goal. I’m shooting for daily writing but accept that as a lesser goal. If it happens okay, if not that’s okay too.

Why are you repeating this crazy effort you may ask? I’ve gotten fond of the idea of setting aside time for something just for my own self, especially something I’ve put off, or may seem unachievable even for me. I’ve found I simply like the idea of trying. I think that we’ve forgotten the importance of just daring to try. We suggest it to our kids all the time, “just try”, “you won’t know till you try”, so when did we stop taking our own advice?

So this is my time, this is my time to try. Without judgement, without guilt, without expectation on myself. No matter the end result I can confidently say I’ve re-taught myself the Art of the Try again.

#ArtoftheTry #nanowrimo2022 #writingagain .

Just as every reader has a “to be read” pile somewhere in their life, every writer I know has a “to be written” pile of their own. These are the stories, ideas, inspirations that continue to bounce around inside our brains even as we try daily to focus on the work in progress in front of us

An interesting topic came up in my online writers group this week about the idea of writing in more than one genre. As you can imagine, the split on if this was a good idea or not was about 50/50 with most of us. Some felt that you spend all this time writing and trying to create your own unique voice that you are somehow diminishing your talents by “splitting” your focus by jumping between genres. Others took the view that exploring more than one type of story, or theme, or really any type of writing was part of the beauty of the art and allows a certain level of playfulness to what we do.

Can a truly great author of children’s novels suddenly turn and become just as good (or better) at writing hard-core adult suspense? Seems to have worked out well of JK Rowling, who also writes under then name Robert Galbraith. (I highly recommend ‘Cuckoo’s Calling’ as an intro to her street tough detective, by the way.) It’s easy to find a list of authors throughout history who’ve done it: Nora Roberts writes a J.D. Robb, Steven King wrote as Richard Bachman, etc. I once heard a story that Nora Roberts publisher had been pushing her into writing in another name/genre. Nora wasn’t really interested at first, but the publisher put it to her this way: “Have you ever heard of Diet Coke? You think Coke makes all that money just selling one kind of drink?”

When asked, I always tell people I’m an “all the crayons in the box” kind of person. I loved coloring as a child, and when I find time as an adult, I still enjoy it not just because of the simple fun of putting color on paper but for me it was about getting as MUCH color on each page as I could. If there were 64 colors in my box, I was sure as shootin’ trying to get every color on the page.

So back to the start of this blog, as a writer isn’t telling different types of stories, in different ways just us simply using all the crayons in our box? I know that if I’m writing an adventure/coming of age story its going to include a lot of Raw Sienna, Sepia, and Tumbleweed browns, cast against Granny Smith Apple, Olive Green, and Sea Green with plenty of Cornflower Blue along the way. Romance, you ask? Magenta, Wild Strawberry, Champaign White and Tickle me Pink should work, only if I can go deeper and a bit darker with Plum and Orchid purples, and Periwinkle Blue to set the tone.
Science Fiction/Fantasy allows me to include lots of Purple Pizzaz, Razzle Dazzle Rose, Electric Lime, Laser Lemon and Mango Tango to light up the universe. The new metallic crayons must also be represented as well so let’s add some Blast Off Bronze, Cyber Grape, and Sonic Silver too.

Even if you never write a best seller, or make the top of anyone else’s chart, at the end of the day you’ve created something beautiful and colorful to add to your own, and maybe someone else’s life. And isn’t that part of what we are all trying to do with both our lives and our work?

So I’ve had a really productive month. I’ve left my job as a librarian and have started working in customer service again. I will miss the job and patrons of course, but will always be connected to my library somehow so it doesn’t really feel like a loss.

I’m trying to establish a new “normal” for myself. Finding time to continue with writing, doing research and all the stuff that makes me want to be an author. To support that effort I decided that I would become more active in my online writing groups. A lot of time it’s simple requests to read someone else’s rough draft, or to give an opinion on an action plan someone is thinking of taking. You know general stuff, offering support when its asked for.

For the last 4 weeks I’ve really committed my Saturday mornings to this task. Saturday mornings were always easy when we were kids. Grab your favorite bowl of cereal, yell at your brother for taking your favorite spoon, and watch Bugs Bunny, Hong Kong Phooey and Captain Caveman. You’re good to go. I wish it was that easy now that I’m older.

I get up about 5:30 am and I jump on the social sites and start scrolling through whatever may have been posted in the last week. I have midmorning online classes so I have to get in and out fast. Sometimes you see a lot of repeat questions like, “What inspires you to write?”, or “Do you really care how the reader feels about what you write?”, and other topics like that. I’ve reached the point where its asked so often that I’m come up with my typical responses and saved them so I can just copy and past them into the comments, rather than typing the same thing over and over again.

While I’ll probably feature my typical responses in an upcoming blog, I did want to note one that is really important and at the same time kind of frightening at the number of times I see it being asked by other authors. I answered the same variation on this question 5 different times in 2 hours:

“How do you know when you are ready to give up? Not just on writing, but on everything? Especially your life?”

It continues to amaze me how many times I see this same question posted by all types of authors, all over the world, whether during the day or night. It’s a constant reminder that at any point somewhere, someone is thinking of making the ultimate decision about ending their own life. It’s scary, it’s common, and it’s really scary how common it continues to be.

So this is the answer I share with others, copying and pasting it at least 5 times this morning alone:

“I’ve watched many friends and family members suffer physically and mentally in horrible ways that made them consider taking their own lives. I understand your question. I’m a big advocate for right to die. But I also believe if you are reaching out to ask the question, talking to others about doing something, then you aren’t ready to let go yet. Your actions, not your words, tell me that you want to live.

Seek help, call a friend or anyone you trust, call a hotline or see a doctor. Take the meds they offer, drink water every time you have “those” thoughts, light a candle and take 10 deep breaths, check yourself into a facility and let someone care for you like you’re not able to. Just please wait five more minutes, and then after that wait another five more minutes.

As writers we are born/cursed with incredibly deep feelings that can sometimes lie to us. Understand that and keep reaching out. Blessings.” 🙏💙

A depressing thing to think about I know, but I feel that if in the middle of all that darkness they had the strength to send that message into the Internet bottle, then someone MUST answer them back. We can’t continue to scroll past the parts of life we don’t understand, relate to, or make us uncomfortable.

Maybe my method of copy and paste is too simple, maybe the words are wrong, maybe I’d do better to alert Facebook to their comments, but I think my method proves that they are being heard across that void and that they are not alone in their feelings.

Five has always been my magic number, favorite number, lucky, whatever you want to call it. Once I’ve copied that message five times, I have to get offline. I can’t take it anymore, it becomes too painful to think about. At least I can justify to myself that I tried helping five times today. I tried reaching out and connecting with five people in need. That’s it, that’s the best I can do.

So today I’d ask you, how do you spend your Saturdays and what’s your magic number?

Spring on the High Plains used to be a lot different when I was younger. You could wake up first thing in the morning and the air was cool enough to give you goosebumps. The dew on the grass and other greenery outside was so thick you could smell it like rain. The light was somehow brighter and the sky bluer after a long winter of whites and grays everywhere you looked. This soft gentle palette would welcome you each morning and invite you into the outdoors again. As the day proceeded, the temperatures would continue to rise and you felt part of yourself reawaken inside to something new and ready to burst forth.

Now, the change is less something you welcome but more something you tolerate. Each morning you rise to muddy, sloppy roads with little remnants of snow sitting in dirty piles everywhere you look. The smell of dew is gone as there appears to be a thin layer of dust on everything highlighting the months of lack of use around you. The air is warm and dry even in the early morning hours. The coolness the evening before should have provided is not to be found. You will have four days of this, just beginning to wonder to yourself if you can switch from a heavy coat to a hoodie, or maybe its not too early to break out the flipflops. Then BAM! Old man winter comes knocking on your door with another round of cold winds, icy rain, and anywhere from two inches to two feet of snow. The thermostat in the house has to be raised again and all the windows you’d opened earlier in the week must be brought down once more.

You find that as you are getting ready to leave work you are either heavily over, or lightly under, dressed for the rapid shift that has taken place since you entered whatever building you are in. You begin to feel a tickle in your throat and a runny nose has made you once again the proud owner of the used tissue collection you’ve carried for months in every pocket and purse you have. You aren’t honestly sure if it’s the shift in weather causing your symptoms, or the seasonal allergies you used to have, or maybe the dreaded virus you’ve been trying to avoid these last two years. You’re just sure you can’t breath and you must have something ready for your nose at all times.

While I’m sure this is all the effects of the every continuing issues with climate change, for now at least I’ll have to accept that four days of spring and three days of winter is just going to be the “new normal.” Hopefully I can sleep in tomorrow morning and dream of the memories I have of the softer springtime’s of my youth.