Pen On Fire blog

Does blogging make for less “real” writing?

My student Jordan worries that now that I have a blog, I will be doing less “real” writing. This is interesting. Not long ago I cautioned students about blogs, for this very reason: “Watch out,” I said. “You may find yourself blogging more and writing less.” So I appreciate my student’s worry.

Yet, what I’ve found is that in these few short days since I started my blog, I’ve actually been writing more–maybe as a reaction to the fear that blogging might mean less real writing.

For example, yesterday morning, when I assumed rush hour would be over at Starbucks, I packed up my iBook and mosied up the street. I ordered a latte venti, nonfat, sat at a small round table against a persimmon-colored wall, and transcribed pages upon pages of fiction from my Moleskine notebook. Now, you might say I wasn’t actually writing. But I was doing what I advise my students, and anyone else who will listen, to do: I visited with my work. I spent almost two hours transcribing. Then I came home and printed out those pages and found I have more than 300 pages of a very rough first draft that I began one year ago. So much of this novel came from freewriting. Those pockets of time we all have. Visiting with my work connected me with the story again.

But getting back to my original question: Does blogging cut down on writing? It does, and it doesn’t. I mean, all of us who blog probably emai at least one lengthy email to at least person on any given day. So why not blog?

So, my sweet worried Jordan, it’s too soon to say, but I’m hoping that instead of cutting down on real writing, blogging helps inspire it. I’ll report more in days to come. In the meantime, what about all of you who blog–does it help or hinder your writing?

Dealing with fear

Since my keynote at the conference, I’ve been hearing feedback–about the talk, about the fear of speaking, the fear of writing and publishing, and about fear itself.

Fear can be so debilitating. It stops us from doing things we’d love to do, whether it’s getting on a plane or quitting that awful job or pursuing whatever dream, whatever hoped-for-thing that calls to us. We don’t finish writing projects because we fear no one will ever want them, anyway.

And fear makes us doubt ourselves. A friend who’s published fiction and nonfiction but can’t seem to sell her latest novel now questions what she’s doing with writing and wonders what she needs to do with her next novel: How can she make it more commercial, perhaps even write a breakout novel?

She’s a wonderful writer, has a lovely literary voice. She’s not a commercial writer. She knows it’s so very competitive today and tries not to take it personally. Yet the self-doubts haunt her.

Novels continue to be published. First-time novelists continue to be published. Maybe not as quickly as nonfiction authors but they still are. And even nonfiction is no cakewalk. At one point (one very long point) I was cautioned that there were too many writing books and not to expect that mine would be published. Still, it was a book I had to write and longed to publish.

It takes a crazy streak of optimism to be a writer–to be any type of artist, really.

And it takes a certain brand of fearlessness, realizing the fear is there and getting on the plane anyway, quitting the awful job anyway, pursuing the dream anyway.

I used to hate public speaking. I’d stand up and tremble and go all pasty and white. I’d stop smiling. My mind would go blank. I did it anyway. (I considered Toastmasters but passed on that idea; I didn’t need one more obligation.) I figured I’d just do talks when the opportunities arose and that eventually I’d eventually get better.

Use fear. Trust it. Go through it and you just may arrive where you want to go.

Erica Jong said, “Fear is a sign—usually a sign that I’m doing something right.” Yup.

The SDSU Writers Conference

I spent the weekend at the San Diego State University writers conference. Talk about massive! Dozens of editors and literary agents from New York, San Francisco and L.A. and hundreds of people in attendance. Very few authors speaking or on panels: I was one of maybe three. It’s definitely the conference to attend if you want to network; if you have a book to sell or you’re looking for an agent, this is the place. In that regard, it was very different from other conferences I’ve attended that were long on authors and short on agents and editors.

They hold one-on-one sessions where, for ten minutes or so, you can meet with various agents and editors. Interestingly, I later talked with a few agents who said many people came in, not with a project they wanted to pitch, but with questions about becoming full time writers, and whether that was a viable course they should take. And of those that did come in to pitch a project, many were so very nervous and had their pitch memorized, and the agents said they tried to convey to them: loosen up! Relax! Enjoy yourself and the process. This isn’t your only chance!

I gave the keynote speech on Sunday morning. I do love speaking, which is so bizarre since public speaking used to be right up there with all of my major fears. Public speaking is a major fear of most people, right up there with death. (I don’t fear death so much as I fear all death’s accoutrements: the morgue, morticians dealing with my dead, naked body…)

But now I love speaking. It can be so much fun. I like inspiring folks, making them laugh; there can be a dearth of inspiration and laughter in the world, y’know?

I was cautioned not to promo my book too much during my talk–it could sound like hype and be a turn-off–so I hardly promoed it at all. As a result, few books sold. In an ideal world, all authors would sell a book or two to everyone present–one for their mother, one for their dog…. It is hoped (by your publisher, by your agent, by you!) that you’ll sell books at events, and if you don’t, you wonder: What should I have done differently? What should I do next time? What would Pamela Anderson do? Kidding! No matter–I love conferences and all types of book events regardless of sales. But in these crazed days of publishing, marketing remains stuck on the brain.

So I would definitely recommend this conference next year if you want to network, meet agents and such. High quality folks attended, too, I thought. One caveat: If you stay at the Doubletree Hotel, where the conference is held, make sure you get a room on a nonsmoking floor (unless you smoke, of course). The room smelled fine, but the hallway reeked.

What motivates you?

Woz Delgado-Hand, whom I met as a result of PEN ON FIRE coming out, e-mailed me the other day. She said she found it hard to stay motivated and she asked, “What motivates you?”

The question gave me pause. What a great question, actually. What motivates me, indeed! All writers at all stages of their writing careers have days–weeks, months, years even–when they feel unmotivated and find it hard to go on. It may be as simple as not knowing what to write or maybe what you’re writing is boring you. We all have these moments and some last longer than others.

It was settled long ago, the fact that I am a writer. I’ve made my living writing for long enough, now. At a certain point you don’t question it anymore. You write because it’s what you do, even if some days you just don’t feel like it.

So, motivation…. One thing that helps motivate me is to have a few projects going on at once. I have my paid work–editing jobs, articles due–and I have my novel that I don’t expect to sell until I finish, but which is gratifying to work on. Nothing (aside from watching my 10-year-old son grow and develop and seeing my students grow in their work and identities as writers) is as gratifying as taking an idea and working on it, sculpting it, refining it and watching it turn into a finished piece of writing. And then when that piece of writing becomes manifest and others benefit from it, that’s an incredible feeling. And quite motivating.

At one of my signings for PEN ON FIRE, a woman came up to me with her copy of my book, all marked up with pencilled notes she made. I loved that my book had moved her to take out her pencil and mark up the pages with questions and comments and things to remember. This motivates me.

When you haven’t yet sold your work, that’s the hardest time to remain motivated. That’s when having a writers group or even one writing buddy helps you stay on the writing path.

Our own personal motivations are made up of numerous and sundry things. It’s a constant challenge. Some days all I want to do is knit. (And during the holidays, that’s largely what I did–that and made goodies and wrapped presents.)

But usually I remember I’m a writer and writers write and if I don’t, then I will have nothing to show and will be in a bad mood, which will be bad for my family and for me.

You take motivation where you find it. And like friendship, you can never have too much of it.