Of Resolutions & Rituals, Purges, Goals, & Owls

I truly love this time of year. New Year is my absolute favorite holiday, and I have various rituals associated with it. I thought I’d share them with you; I really believe in their power and efficacy—and my wish for all of you for 2015 is empowerment and effectiveness.

At the end of the post, I’ll be sharing my usual special offer to celebrate New Year.

Happy New Year! I hope 2015 is a year of creative growth and forward motion for us all.

Wordy Bird’s New Year’s Rituals (live and uncut)

1. The Great Office-Studio Purge

This is a must. I do have a lovely room in which to work and create, but it does get rather out of hand, especially toward Christmas, and especially when I have a major creative project underway. Ok, it’s shocking and I'm (sort of) embarrassed, but I'm determined to keep it real here and I have promised a few people some before and after shots. Nobody's perfect, and life can get in the way of good intentions, but this is why you should look forward to and embrace the Purge. (But then, I have read that many creative people tend to do better work in chaotic spaces...)

Exquisite chaos, extreme shame.

Phoebe can't believe it either.

Nine-year-old me, who kept her books 

categorized and neat, would be incensed!

 You never know what you'll find...

The palette I've been looking for for ages. 

A terribly important magnetic Z.

These. 

Expect the chaos to get exponentially worse before it gets better.

There’s nothing like purging and starting the year with a tidy, clutter free, clean space. It feels fantastic. 

Organized by favorites, non-fiction, books
by friends, books I use for teaching, and "other."
Nine-year-old me would be proud. 

Phoebe is speechless.

I must have done a good job because my daughter just walked in and frowned. "It's too clean in here," she said. "Where's your real office?" Don't worry, sweetheart, it'll be back before you know it. 

Shame above me! I couldn't reach. Or face up to
getting rid of any books, if truth be told.

2. The Sublime Setting of the Goals

We all know that resolutions beg to be broken and can be rather self-defeating. I’m a HUGE advocate, however, of concrete goal-setting. I believe in writing goals down and keeping them close at hand. In my opinion, it’s the best kick starter to define what you want to achieve, hold yourself accountable, and actually get stuff done.   

I usually reassess my goals around midyear. There’s nothing wrong with reassessment and a shift in priorities; in fact, to not reassess your goals is folly. Situations change, unexpected opportunities arise, and so sometimes you need to shift course before you crash and burn. And note I said “reassess” and “shift,” not lower. Never lower you expectations. Big goals, even if they seem outside the realm of the possible, will keep you focused and take you further than lower expectations. Big goals must, of course, be broken into smaller discrete goals, stepping stones to the big one.

When making my annual goals, I find the following categories helpful as a launching point: health/fitness, relationships, financial, career, spiritual/philosophical/personal growth, creative. Again, I highly recommend avoiding resolutions in favor of making concrete goals with deadlines. That gets the subconscious working out possible steps to achieving them on time.

Compare:

I resolve to make a lot more new art this year.  

to

I will complete my new portfolio by April 15^th.

And, yes, this is an actual one from my list.

Another goal I have is to see a snowy owl, up close, this year. I took this a few days ago with my phone... through a telescope. 

So close to success, but so far...Again. The snowy owl is my feathered white whale. Ok, so some goals are somewhat dependent on factors outside your control. But I can control how often I go birding and just how hard I’m willing to work to see the snowy. And you can do the same for your goals. No excuses!

3. The Fresh Fancy Journal

I use this each day to list my tasks and goals for the day, and it’s satisfying to tick them off one by one, have a record of what I’ve achieved, and get a lot done. So before New Year, I buy a high quality, beautiful journal. It takes me ages to choose usually, but my lovely daughter gave me this perfect one for Christmas. I write my year’s goals in the first few pages, so they are always at hand.

4. First Dawn

No matter how I celebrate New Year’s Eve itself, I always get up to watch the year’s first sunrise. (This morning it was well below freezing and I’d only had three hours sleep, but First Dawn was absolutely worth the numb nose and head-swimming fatigue.) 

Do you have special New Year rituals? I’d love to hear what they are and how you feel about goals and resolutions.

As I always do at this time of year, and in the spirit of making goals and keeping deadlines, I’m offering 20% off editing services contracted and deposit paid by January 31st, 2015. Editing services include: developmental editing, copyediting and proofreading, critiques, and writing instruction. Contract start can be on a future date, as long as it is by September 1^st, 2015. Contact me: wordybirdie AT gmail.com

Wishing you a wonderful 2015.

New Year

I love the last few days of a year. On these days you can be sure to find me clearing out my work-space, stuffing stuff in bags for the charity bin, pulling out couches and sucking up the dust beavers (much bigger and toothier than dust bunnies). You’ll also find me thinking and reflecting and writing on the first pages of a new journal I’ve spent time choosing, making resolutions and setting goals—or rather, making my New Year’s List.

There’s something about putting things in writing. We are writers, most of us here, and as writers we are well aware of what it is to pour ourselves into our writing. There’s something very scary, very revealing of our inner selves, and utterly intoxicating about expressing ourselves through words, through characters we’ve created, and putting it down on paper instead of just daydreaming. It’s a real commitment.

I think it’s the same kind of thing with a New Year’s List. That’s how it feels for me, anyway. I get very excited about it. I’ve been doing it since I was eight when I first heard of New Year’s resolutions. I have rituals. It’s something I hold sacred. And funnily enough, many people don’t understand when I tell them about it or they chuckle about it. They think I’m cute (or possibly crazy. Or maybe both).

But, that’s ok. That’s water off a duck’s back. Other people’s amusement has never worried me one bit, because I know that people who write lists and commit things to paper where they can clearly see them tend (more often than those who don’t) to get things done. And I like to get things done. (That’s why the first thing I do each morning is make a list of that day’s stuff-to-do. There’s something very comforting in breaking life’s daily complexity into small manageable chunks, not to mention fully satisfying as they get ticked off).

It’s a very powerful act—making written goals and sticking them somewhere you can see them, somewhere they can nag at you, or, perhaps more powerfully, where others can see them and nag at you. A New Year’s List is like a good, supportive crit group: it can keep you focused, keep you accountable, and keep you real. (It can’t hug you hard when you’re down or sincerely revel in your joy like a good crit group, though. So if you don’t have a good crit group, perhaps that should be first thing on your List.)

Anyway, here goes. My writing/creating goals this coming year, 2012:

• Finish a solid first draft of my middle grade novel.
• Continue to draw and once again explore my visual art, like, you know, really often.
• Be a consistently supportive crit group member in a consistent and supportive way.
• Be a good editor. Be a good teacher. Continue to care. Work Hard.
• Just keeping doing my thing. Keep having a good time on paper, not really contemplating the future, letting the fluff and stuff pass me by, just focusing on my ultimate goal.

Now I’m accountable, see? And that fires me up! It’s an exciting year beginning, brand new and full of promise. Can’t you feel it?

Thank you for reading Wordy Birdie and a very Happy New Year to you and yours!

Post in Which You Meet My Handsome Cello.

This is my cello. See how he sits there against my studio wall, surrounded by More Important Things? Watch how he admonishes me silently from his stand. Look closely, maybe you can see the dust there on his shoulders, the reproach in that lovely costume eye-patch he’s sporting. Yet each time I pass him or glance his way, a small feisty part of me is quite convinced that if I picked him up and played him, something exquisite would pour through me along the bow, into the strings and body, and spill forth singing and sonorous, resonant and ethereal. It will just spring from us almost unbidden, effortlessly, with great passion. The experience will feel transcendent.  

But it’s a complex act, playing a cello, and my playing, when I got round to it today, did not sound good.

There are many technical complexities in cello playing, and that’s before you even think about the artistry or the soul of the piece of music. I do know just how tight my bow should be, and I can tune my instrument perfectly. I can pick out an interesting melody and sometimes even hit the right note. I sound almost terrific when I am wearing big headphones and playing along to some *loud* cello music. But my small knowledge is far from enough. 

Playing the cello is something I’d really like to do well, but it’s not on my urgent list. I do feel more strongly about it than learning to blow glass or use a pottery wheel or surf and other things I’d quite like to do but could never hope to teach myself. I probably should take some cello lessons and practice every day, and I will when I have the time, money, and desire. 

In the meantime playing the cello is really hard and not always fun, in fact. Actually, it’s a lot like writing (c’mon, you knew where I was going with this). However, I can readily laugh off how bad I sound as I drag bow across strings and still happily fantasize about one day being listenable. I know I’m not my screechy cello playing, anymore than I am my excellent scone baking skills or my tragic inability to sew. But that’s hard to do with your writing, isn’t it? If our writing isn’t good, we feel it in our core as some terrible damning exposition of what’s deepest and most wonderful (or wrong) within us. Indeed,if I aspired to be the next Yo Yo Ma, I imagine the way I play the cello would be upsetting.

The thing is, we all understand it takes many lessons, a full understanding of tools, and many years of dedicated daily practice and fine tuning of artistry to become a concert musician—and yet we think we should be accomplished writers the moment we sit down to write, and then again each time we write. And when we fear that’s not happening, we quake at the thought of critiques. We shiver at the thought of sharing, of exposing our work and ourselves. We get really bloody frustrated. We let our writing and passion catch dust.

Does that make any sense at all?

All published writers have a long learning curve before they actually "make it." Everyone’s first attempts and early drafts sound like caterwauling cellos. So practice and play, be happy you’re on your way. One day, you will be a maestro. 

Strange Energy

It’s an acutely uncomfortable feeling sometimes, the need to write or create. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, niggling as a vague unease, a creeping inability to sit still or focus, a repeated pragmatic thought that it ‘must be the weather.’ Sometimes it’s disguised as an escalating resentment toward a waiting pile of bills, thoughts of negative energy between you and someone you care about, or the memory of some past hurt—and other times it just carries some essence of those things.

At such times you may resort to doing the dishes, at least, since you can’t settle on anything else on your to-do list. But even though you wash the dishes and clean the kitchen counters and scrub the floor on your hands and knees till it gleams, they’re still there. Words eager to be written.

That energy has to express itself somehow. Carry a notebook, use it, and call it 'Sweet Relief.' Or blog. Then chuckle. Then get back to your WIP. 

Wordy B Raves a Bit About Weeding, Manure, and the Importance of Some Good, Hard Pruning Now and Then.

After some aerial combat with technology (Big raspberry, HP!), the Wordy Bird is back online. And with my brand-new, barebones, interim PC (thumbs up, Mac!) I’ve come into the garden. I'm an avid gardener. I like to watch things grow: plants, manuscripts, people, etc. I’ve also inherited a green thumb from Dearest Mother Bird. She and I can make just about anything grow.

Grown from a seed by Sarah F., one of my lovely RISD students,

and given to me as a seedling on our last night of class.

As Nestmate (Thoughtful, Steadfast, Funny, and So Perceptive Nestmate) noted the other day, gardening satisfies part of my soul. Gardening, like many things really soul-satisfying, is quite hard work. Just like all the things I love—hiking, kayaking, editing, marriage, parenthood, and, of course, writing—it’s a bit of a slog now and then, but worth every bead of sweat. Yes, yes, I know a gazillion writers before me have discussed the similarities between gardening and writing and… *Life!*. But that’s neither here nor there to me, because what I really want to talk about is weeding and pruning and the ingredients of perfect compost.

One of my favorite gardening activities, funnily enough, is weeding. And like gardens and *Life!*, manuscripts grow weeds. It’s easy to let them run rampant—whether they’re consistent grammatical issues or even whole plot points that threaten to engulf one's narrative without reason—and usually they'll do so quickly. I’ve been thrilled to see one of my favorite repeat clients brave enough to do some severe cutting of the bits that were overtaking her MS recently. The transformation and growth! (Hearty kudos to you, Ms. You-Know-Who-You-Are.) Happens to us all. I had to throw away half my MG novel last year, and another third of what was left a few months ago. It can be hard, but oh the relief. The liberation!   

Consider using your *Life!* weeds in your writing. I wrote all three of my Ginny Giles books by examining sources of my own discomfort. My RISD alumni will attest to the importance of Stream of Consciousness Writing. You’ll end up with a lot of weeds (persistent little buggers!) and overgrowth, it's true. Weeds make an excellent addition to writing compost—great stuff for growth! Pull those weeds out and throw them into something positive. What the hell else are you going to do with them?

Oh, I know they seemed pretty at first. Weeds can be seductively beautiful. But weeds (insidious little suckers!) are full of self interest. They care nothing for the beauty of the whole garden. Weeds choke your precious creation. They keep it from thriving. 

WIP's also need a good HARD prune, now and then. Look at your MS; what is not adding to the whole? What’s the thing that’s choking it? Which former beloved plot point is getting in the way? Weeds and overgrowth take over your *Plot!* if you let them. Don’t let them!

Sometimes even deadwood can have a little life left in it and sometimes weeds reject rejection. They creep back in, send out some shoots. Sometimes their roots are deep. Sometimes, alas, a dash of poison may be your last and only resort. But get rid of them (narcissistic little f*ckers!) you must, if you want your thing of beauty to thrive. It may take your style or *Plot!* a little while to recover, but it will thank you for the compost.