Fancy Pants.

I've mentioned a few times the writer's workshop site I belong to: http://www.scribophile.com.

Lovely people, lovely feedback. It's a well-run site that's managed to retain its focus on writing while incorporating some social aspects (forums, scratchpads, profiles, email) that allow members to become even more attached to each other--a dangerous thing. But wonderful, when you need reader reaction to your work. I may be easing off daily onsite lurking in an attempt to spend more time actually writing, but that's certainly no fault of the site. The place is damned addictive, but my desire for achieving a more professional writery existence prods me like a duck with a sharp beak.

From what I hear, I'm not alone. Most writers don't have an online portfolio, using their blog instead to represent their writing to editors/agents. This, apparently, is not always the best strategy--particularly if said writers tend to blog about embarrassing body hair and/or the ugly sex they had the night before. Might work for Paul Feig, but do you really want to take the chance?

The scribophile site admins have answered this call and created a new, related-but-separate site called: http://scribblefolio.com.

This site isn't designed for direct interaction, but the creation of professional-looking profiles for writers to use as virtual business cards. No programming know-how necessary. None. I speak as someone who has trouble finding documents once I save them and I found the initial setup a breeze.

The site asks for basic information, then allots space for your writerly bio/introduction/stream-of-consciousness rambling (whatever you feel like throwing on there, professional intentions or otherwise.)

The fun part is choosing a motif from a list of about a dozen options. Each one is attractive, streamlined, geared toward a professional presentation. I hope the site adds designs over time with a bit more range, and perhaps some customizable templates, but for a brand-new site the current options are plenty to choose from and feel happy about.

Here's mine: http://lauriepaulsen.scribblefolio.com.

Rates are reasonable ($10/month), and the site is running a grand-opening special through Sep 6th. Easy way to find yourself suddenly in the possession of a professional internet presence. Kinda frightening, actually. I'm a little tipsy with power and can't wait to give someone important my site address.

edit: P.S.--Hey, 100th post!

The Dark Side of Addiction

I've been a member of a few different writing workshop websites over the past several years. At first agog at the idea of online communities I related to, I soon melded with the stated site missions, committing to group activities and trading critiques with other members. The lure of near-constant attention paid to my writing was irresistable. I bought in. Have bought in.

Even though I can see the danger of giving myself up to the power of semi-anonymous acceptance (and sometimes admiration) based on my writing and site contributions, the instant audience for my stories and tremendously alluring feedback loop, reality is hazy by comparison. Flat. Gray. How I imagine the world looks to someone considering dropping their sexaholic lifestyle.

Reality: these sites are only tools, by themselves not the path to development as a writer. Feedback from a variety of readers is valuable at a certain stage in the work's progress, but allowing myself to assign emotional importance to what others say about my work leads me astray--my work is no longer completely mine if I give others veto power over it.

I've stagnated as a storyteller, let myself settle for immediate gratification when I should have been working on the mundane but steady path to improvement, to becoming closer to being the writer I hope to be. I've exposed fragile, incomplete efforts to outsiders when what they needed most was my undivided attention and the private freedom to make them magical. I see these works as carcasses, half-eaten and spoiled in the heat of the sun. I've sold out, and I haven't gotten any money for it. I'm a fairly shoddy whore, really.

I've decided to pull back from my online communities--to shift my focus back onto writing as a learning process. I have too much unfinished work to keep coasting, reveling in the easy camaraderie of others who may or may not be quietly finishing their own work in the shadows.

Writing is a solitary endeavor for a reason.

Creativity is Peeeoople!

I usually have more dry spells than wet, when it comes to writing. I don't ascribe to the idea of writer's block, really--at least, not as a diagnosis. It's a symptom of fear. Fear and writers go together, I think. We dwell as a practice on all kinds of stuff--character, plot, setting, etc--and when we're nervous, we dwell on that, too. Our brains are programmed that way. But I'm veering a little off track.

I wanted to talk about creative juice, where we get it, why it never runs out. This is a little like trying to talk about God, so keep your expectations low.

I read a blog entry recently about the question of renewable creativity: http://www.scribophile.com/blog/this-post-is-a-result-of-an-impassioned-argument/

I appreciated the question, although most of the comments posted focused on the setting argument instead (I did too, at first--Shyamalan's a compelling guy.) But it's a mystery, where our ideas come from. Some people are just born seeing the world differently, or maybe their childhood shapes it for them while their minds are malleable. I don't think creative thinking requires genius. Or knowledge. But the inclination to ask questions is crucial. Curiosity led to every advancement our species has made; that ability to imagine the impossible and find a way there climbed us to the top of the food chain. Of course, now we're doing our darnedest to extinct ourselves, but that's another topic. Veering again.

Creativity. The more we use it the easier it comes, the better we use it. Like any effort, we learn through doing. We can read about it, study others' techniques, watch biographies of great thinkers, but until we dive in and find our own way to creating, it's circumstantial. So, trying is essential--and that can be scary. Trying opens up the possibility of failing, and nobody likes that.

So, fear #1: failure. It's a universal fear, no matter what we're trying to accomplish.

Fear #2? Success. Silly, right? Why be afraid of doing something well? What could be disturbing about that? I think enough of us have been here, too, to understand. If we do something well once, we've gotta do it again. And again. The bar's been set, the expectation put out there (for everyone to see)--we've lost the freedom to fail. So we think.

Where was I going? Right. Fear stomps on creativity, and creative endeavors generate fear. It's a vicious cycle. We can lessen the intensity a bit by keeping perspective, by honing skills so every new attempt isn't as much of a crap shoot, but the uncertainty is always there to some degree. We're not creatures comfortable with uncertainty. Those of us who are (not me) accomplish greatness.

Creativity is people! Like Charleton Heston said in "Soylent Green". We do feed off of each other. Ideas, inspiration, motivation, hope, competition. Creativity can exist in a vacuum, but it gets musty in there. Plus, all the noise. We have already the ability to think openly, but I think we regenerate through interaction with the world around us. Stimulation. Maybe we don't literally eat other people, but if we did we could use that experience, too. It all goes in the pot to be swished around, processed, mutated into something useful for our purposes as writers. Or cannibals, I guess.

My remedy for fear? Stimulus.

If you sit down at the keyboard and nothing bubbles up, don't panic. Like impotence, this is the worst possible reaction. Relax. It happens to everyone. Back off for a few minutes and find something new to cram into your brain. Walk outside, listen to music, find thought-provoking articles on the internet (www.bigthink.com), watch an inspiring video presentation (www.TED.org), do something mindless and physical--whatever fires your synapses, gets you going. And if nothing comes, even then? Well, it's hopeless, I guess. (No, it's not. It will come. I promise. Our brains can't help themselves.)

That's my two cents on the subject. Anyone have more ideas to help with writing motivation? I'd love to hear them.

Instinct versus intellect

Do you write from the gut or the head? Like on most spectrums, we'll fall somewhere in the middle--but if you had to choose a dominant approach, which would it be?

At a writer's conference last year, I attended a session presented by Eric Witchey (http://www.ericwitchey.com/.) He spoke about story structure, character motivation, writing practice--all valuable information well presented. The anecdote that stood out for me, though, was his telling of writer Naseem Rakha's experience writing her first novel (http://www.naseemrakha.com/pages/the_book.html.) As a writing teacher, he helped her through the early stages of writing her novel, but he said she came already equipped to write it well. She ended up selling the book for an impressive sum and contracting for several more; a wild success by any measure.

Then Witchey talked about that second novel--the dreaded sophomore effort. The instinctive writer, he says, will often panic when faced with that manuscript deadline from the publisher. You see, the instinctive writer doesn't know how he wrote his first novel. He didn't plan each scene, place each chapter just so for greatest tension--he followed his gut about storytelling, just let it pour out onto the page and then cleaned it up after the fact. He probably took years to complete his novel. And now the publisher wants the second manuscript in six months. Completed. Without a template to follow, this writer panics, unsure of how to recapture the magic.

And it is magic to this writer. All of those minute decisions writers make as they shape a new story regarding syntax, tone, rhythm, pacing--the gut writer successfully integrates these elements through osmosis. He grew up with story, reading, absorbing the rise and fall, the rhythm of the tale. When he writes his own, it's not about following rules--it just feels right.

I'm not saying Naseem Rakhu is one type of writer or another. I have no idea, and Witchey didn't allude either way. But his anecdote about her put me in that place for a moment. In my imagination, I could feel the mixed reaction of terror and exhilaration facing that kind of wondrous deadline; both a dream and nightmare galloping down the spine.

I'd write about the planner writer--the one who writes from the head, who outlines meticulously, creating detailed character sheets and 3D maps of their story's setting before even starting to write, and then writing draft after draft and tearing it apart and starting over, because well, writing a novel is work. This sort of deconstruction is necessary. Right?

I have no idea. I can't conceive of that kind of approach. This may be why I'm an unofficial novelist, not having actually finished any of them yet. When it comes to the thinking, I get foggy. I second guess. I lose the grit I should have between my teeth, like I have when I'm writing from the hip. The planning just sucks the life out of writing for me. I don't even discuss stories before I write them, because talking about them releases their mojo into the world--it's not mine, anymore, trapped in my head and thumping to get out.

So, if writing novels requires this "planning," how do I reconcile my aversion? How do I make the nasty outlining which is so good for my novel more palatable?

I don't think I do. I think each writer finds his own way, landing happily somewhere along that intellect-instinct spectrum and produces using methods he cobbles together from widespread sources to suit his own approach.

Some sources I've found:

*Noah Lukeman's titles:
"The Plot Thickens"
http://www.lukeman.com/theplotthickens/
"The First Five Pages"
http://www.lukeman.com/Titles/first_5_pages.htm

*http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php

*http://www.nanowrimo.org/

*from http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Novel :

There are several common approaches to writing:
Begin with the ending in mind. If you know the ending of the story, it can help you form the theme, the plot, the settings, the characters, and it can help you progress more easily toward that ending.
The big picture approach. Try to create the world (the overall setting and environment), and then build on it to create your novel. Create geography, races, towns, cities, capitals, cults, factions, governments, etc.
Dive in approach. You have the list of the idea, and you start writing while it's still fresh in your mind.
Start with characters. Create three or four characters and let the plot build up around them. This way will allow the characters to be more embedded in the plot.

I'm not saying stretching our comfort zone isn't a good thing--certainly, it is. Get out of that rut once in a while. Try something new.

But don't feel compelled to write outside of your self--your self is where you get your voice, how you bridge that gap between writer and reader. You don't want to compromise the one aspect of your writing that makes it unique, no matter how you get that story onto the page.