Break Out

 

Most everyone writes like most everyone walks. But we don't all strut like Carole Channing in Thoroughly Modern Millie (Movie 1967).

 Don't you sometimes want to break free and feel that free abandon with work and life? 

They say that every kid is an artist. But we're adults, and we have built up some self-consciousness. Or we're in the gap between where we are and where we want to be. 

We have good taste. We can tell when a story doesn't ring true. We have a good idea, but we ask ourselves, why do I sound like a freshman when I want to have graduated with a Ph.D.?

It's the skill we need before applying what's in our hearts.

Skills can be learned.

But before we study grammar, story structure, plot, The Journey of the Hero, or the mechanics of the Screenplay, we must still the voice that screams in our ears that we can't have the thing we want. 

We hesitate to play full-out in most endeavors. We want to dance while scrubbing the floor but scowl instead. A slight change of attitude would have made our time joyful instead of burning sunshine.

(I used to work in an office where the receptionist, when totally frustrated, would clean the office. It worked for all of us.)

We hear about doing what we love and getting paid to do it, and we try. We hear that life is supposed to be fun but feel we have little of it.

It's break-out time.

It might not happen all at once. It might come in spurts, but it will come. We are writers. We have declared ourselves to be, and so we are. 

Now, we want to be good writers.

That's called learning our craft.

Once, at a writer's workshop, an author/presenter asked: "Who wants to be a writer?"

Everyone in the room raised their hands.

"Then what in the hell are you doing here?' he boomed. "Go home and write."

Here's where I have a problem: if you keep putting out the same old, you won't advance. Some input is necessary.

Let's investigate…

Drip, Drip, Drip

In his book, See You at The Top, Zig Zigler tells the story of how years ago he invested in a computer he believed would handle his inventory, payroll, mailing list, and labeling. He figured that marvelous machine, for which he had paid an enormous sum, would even make the morning’s coffee. 

Six months later, he would have sold it for a fraction of what he paid for it.

 At the time of his writing, he would not part with it for ten times what he paid for it.

What happened?

 

 The answer is simple. The first people he hired to program the computer would have fouled up a two-car parade.

  

But then, in walked a couple who said they could make that computer sit up and sing. Zigler hired them, and the result is history. It was doing all he wanted and more.

 

 Input determines output.

 

 We, humans, are very suggestible, and although we pride ourselves on being independent and free-thinking, the truth is skillful inputters can easily program us.

 

 When we hear or see something over and over, it tends to stick. It’s the drip, drip, drip that wears down our defenses, and pretty soon, we are saying, “That seems right.”

  

That’s brainwashing. 

  

We are built that way. It is no dishonor or weakness on our part. 

 

 If we don’t brainwash our own minds, someone will do it for us.

  

Knowing that puts the power in our hands. It allows us to do our own brainwashing. It is, however, a challenge. When we say, “I am a masterful creator. Money comes easily and abundantly. I always have enough.” We are apt to say, “That’s baloney. Look at those bills that I cannot pay. Look at my life. It sucks.” Those are powerful words, but we continually use them.

 

 We’re afraid to say, “I have the life of my dreams. I have the relationship I’ve always wanted. I am financially secure with more than enough to supply all my needs.” We see that isn’t true, but our brain, like the jury, still hears the words, “I am.” 

 

 It’s the drip, drip, drip that allows us to believe in events not yet ours. Wayne Dyer said, “We’ll get it when we see it.”

 

 This programming ourselves is tricky business. We have a gatekeeper at the door, throwing out what we put in. That’s the reason we need to see it, hear it, whoop it up, laugh outrageously, play make-believe, and write notes to ourselves so we can stay in a positive zone. We can overwhelm the gatekeeper by a continual drip, drip, drip. We can be so positive old gatekeeper won’t stand a chance against us. 

  

If we don’t brainwash ourselves, the world will do it for us. Media tells us and retells us. They put their horrendous stories on the news on the hour, between hours, and people soak it up—why is that? Why are we attracted to bad news?

  

My husband says it evolutionary. We are on the lookout for enemies.

  

When I was reading about Africa, I found that they liked “talking trouble.”

  

Oh, I’m getting it. It’s emotional. We hear something bad about someone, and we feel empathetic. It’s genuine. “Oh, that’s terrible,” we say and truly mean it. “I’m so sorry for them.”

  

It’s not so emotionally pleasing if the hero breezes through to success. 

 

 We’d say, “Yeah, sure. Okay.” Then envy sets in, “Lucky dude, why is it so easy for them?” We begin to feel bad about ourselves that we don’t measure up. 

 

 But if the hero struggles, and we’ve struggled with him, if he loses, it’s emotional, and we’re chest fallen. If he wins, we feel triumphant. We know he has earned it.

  

One reason the media is so bad for us is that it’s too much. We are tribal by heritage. We care about our tribes. We take care of those close to us, but to hear the bad news of the entire world is overwhelming.

 

 Another part of our make-up is that if we repeatedly hear something, we will come to believe it. 

 

 That can work for us or against us.

 

It’s easier if someone else is telling us, for then that something will stick with us. If we tell ourselves we are magnificent loving creatures. We know that isn’t true. “But master,” said the student, “the table is empty.”

 

“See it as full.”

 

 Like a writer being in the GAP, there is a gap between affirming for something and getting it. Perhaps that’s a safeguard. That gap gives us a chance the rethink some of our wants. If our thoughts were created instantly, we’d get buried in a lot of ridiculous rubbish. 

  

If we go way out on a limb, it might take a long time before we can accept it. 

 

 Give yourself powerful thoughts. Accept your own good. “Nothing is off-limits for me.” “The only person who can stop me is me.”

  

“Everybody wants me to win.”

  

“All is well.”

 

 “The Universe buries strange jewels within us all and then stands back to see if we can find them. The hunt is to uncover those jewels—that’s creative living.”

 --Elizabeth Gilbert

Grab a Pen and Kick Ass

“I have put my heart out to be shot at.”

—J.R.R. Tolkien 

 

Do it anyway.

 

What’s the first book you remember? 

 

I’m not talking about the little boring readers we had in grammar school. I’m talking about a novel, a real chapter book. Mine was Anne of Green Gables. My mother read it to me, and then she read Black Beauty—I wish she hadn’t. Don’t torture a horse for me, and I was too young to know it was a muckraker. Then I discovered Walter Farley’s Black Beauty and fell in love, and continued with his books until I had read them all. Then there was Heidi, and Jack London’s Call o The Wild. 

 

Those people kicked ass. 

 

You know what I mean, their boot didn’t touch anybody’s backside, they touched our spirit. They made us love books. They gave us an adventure and set us on a never-ending reading trail.

 

Join the group. Write your book. It’s worth the effort, even if your work get’s shot at.

 

Don’t you sometimes read words presented so beautifully that it makes your mouth water? And then you try to do it, and end up with mud on your face?

You’re in the GAP.

 

The Gap is the place where you hear those lofty words you want to put down, you see the story, you have good taste, you know what’s good when you see it. The trouble is when you read your words, they just don’t sing as you had imagined.

That just means you’re here and want to be there.

 

The gap will close. Keep on writing.

 

It’s good that you have discerning eyes and can be objective.

 

You know that Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you know that the writing life is magical, painful sometimes, yet worth the doing.

 

I’m here to nudge, I could say kick your ass into belivin’, perserverin’, doin’. (I’ve been reading Where the Crawdads Sing and have developed a southern drawl.) Talk about salivating over words. That woman kicked ass.

 

I will give you my list of the best books on writing—did I give these before? Well, I’m offering them again. They are too good to pass up. Hang on, I will list them, I just need to keep my pen moving. Yep, I’m writing (scribbling) with a pen sitting in our Pries with the heater on and my little dog beside me.

 

Later I will type this into the computer. Some brain experts say that writing longhand provides a deeper connection between the hand and the brain than a keyboard. Of course, if you compose well on a keyboard, do whatever works. 

I’ve heard that many novelists write their stories first in longhand. I wrote longhand for a long time for it was hard for me to compose on the computer. I had to graduate to it. 

 

Which is better? I don’t know. 

 

It works if you work it.

 

Begin reading. The following books will make you a better writer:

 

Anne Lamont’s book Bird by Bird is a must-read. (I love that girl.) thirty years ago, her little 10-yer-old brother had a report on birds due the following day. He had three months to do the assignment but faced the next-day deadline. We never do that, do we? The little guy was overwhelmed and in tears. His father sat down beside him, put an arm over his shoulder, and said, “Just take in bird by bird, Buddy, bird by bird.”

 

And so, dear reader/writer, as Lamont advises, take your words like the birds. Bird by bird, buddy, bird by bird.

 

Here are the best 10 books on writing.

 

1.On Writing by Steven King

A shoo-in for someone with that name and body of work

2. The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr & C.B. White.

Remember from freshman English? “Omit needless words. Omit needless words.”

3. The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

Overcoming resistance—could be called procrastination. And you find ways you didn’t know you were procrastinating. Still, when you get moving, you will also notice a lightness of spirit will envelop you, even if your writing sucks.

4. Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury

Zen didn’t seem quite right for Bradbury, but his enthusiasm for writing will set your pants on fire.

5. Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleoh.

Not, don’t plagiarize. However, everybody gets inspiration from somewhere. Take it from the best and make it your own.

6. Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg

This is an all-time most popular book on writing, and it is celebrating its 30th year. It is one of the first books on writing I read, and I lost it on a move from California to Oregon, so I’m ordering it again.

7. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamont. 

Dear Anne.

8. The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.

Many quotes, much practical advice.

9. Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t, by Steven Pressfield.

“Your sh*t is that nobody wants to hear your self-centered, ego-driven, unrefined demands for attention.” –Steven Pressfield

And it is more, “Believe in yourself when no one else on the planet shares that belief.

10. Brain Storm by Don Hahn

A Disney Imagineer writes on Unleashing Your Creative Self

 

Read these people, then put your pen to page and kick some ass.