I follow a few blogs, daily. I know. Addictive, isn’t?
How did I get from following a few friends to a full-blown, “wonder what they are talking about today” interest in the lives of some very interesting women and a few good men? How did I find this group of people with very diverse lives, loves, and beliefs? Do you know how many talented writers are out there?
A series of clicks opened a wide door to the world. How did I get here, or perhaps, why did I get here? Well, there was a little dream, hidden way down deep that said — now. I wanted to write, again. I want to write the story knocking loudly at the door. Okay, now what. Easy, go back to school. Right. Not so easy. Okay. Take a few courses. See what happens. Okay. I found the UBC creative writing center. I started with two courses, then progressed to three the next semester, (dumb, not enough time to give to all three) and back to one course in advanced writing with an emphasis on critique. Scary stuff after many years of not writing or reading.
I found an online writing class StoryWonk taught by Lani Diane Rich. Lani started a new blog. Started to read it every day. Interesting women and men showed up to comment. The rest is history. The discussions are very open and honest. It’s life expressed through unique voices. Last week, the discussion turned to believing in one’s abilities to write. Toni said, “FAITH IT.” I like that. Use faith as a verb.
I have faith in others and God. Often, I do not have much faith in myself or my abilities to be a great writer. A great writer. Yeah, right. I am going to have to faith it. There is no other way. Faith it. Believe it. Say it. Come on you can do it. Faith it, baby. Okay, I never call myself – baby or babe.
Lani, always, always, has the class end with I AM A GREAT WRITER, in all CAPS, no lower case. Easy to type, isn’t. Easy to believe? Sometimes. When I type it, I believe it. Then, the sneaky little lie worms itself inside my head and plants seeds of doubt. I whack away at them, build myself up, think up great scenes, well, in my mind, they are great, and then…sneaky little self-doubt hits. Okay, change tactics.
Make a plan. A daily agenda. It includes all the things I have to do and a time set aside to write, every day, same time, or as close to the same time as possible. Make it a habit. Write. Stream of conscious writing. Write a scene in 200, max 250 words. Change the characters every day, for instance; two people, one limps, or, one person running a race, write internal dialogue, or, two sisters, one dying, the other doesn’t know it, or, two kids lost, or talking chickens, or …the list is endless. Look over my notes on the chapter book. Draw the map of the school, the river, the landmarks…write the stuff down.
If you have aspirations or just want to have fun, take Lani’s writing classes. They are terrific. The best part; you can download every class and save it, right there on your computer, to refer back to anytime you want. You know you want to.
Okay, ten opening lines…
I watched him, the methodical gait punctuated with the slap of his right foot.
The slam of the car door echoed off the stands, breaking his concentration.
I rose slowly, floating out of my scarred body.
She never wanted to be in this place.
“You look like a scarecrow, all faded and skinny, Sarah.”
Robyn squeezed her eyes shut, waited and wondered where she was in the pecking order.
Staring into the grave, he realized he finally had custody or did he?
It was very dark and stormy.
The smell of oil, dirt, and body odor hit the moment she opened the door.
Maggie stretched up on her toes and tried to find her little brother in the auditorium.
** Here is my writing exercise for tomorrow write ten opening lines using only ten words.
Do you have something you have to faith it to do?
Stay safe and have faith.