My plate is full these days.  In the next month, I’ll be away at a writer’s conference, a writing retreat and a trip to meet my daughter in Seattle.  Needless to say, I’m using the excuse of planning to procrastinate when it comes to writing.

I’ve started a new book, and I’m falling into one of these three excuses:

a) I need to do more research

b) I don’t know my characters enough

c) this is unlike anything I’ve written before

In order to kick my way out of this unproductive rut, I’ve dug up some old notes on motivation.  This time, it isn’t for use on my characters, but myself.  I’m pledging to you, reader, that I will put these into practice.

1. Write down goals.  Our local writing group posts their writing goals on our Yahoo message board.  By the next meeting, each member promises to have certain goals done.   Writing it on the “loop” makes each goal realistic, accountable and obtainable.  I’ve committed a certain number of pages this month and I will make my goal.
2. Reward successes.  Members who succeed in making their goals are eligible for a B & N gift certificate.  Reporting my completed goal to my group is ample reward, but I’m going to up the ante and surpass what I’ve promised.
3. Remember successes.  In the mad rush to cross off the next thing on our lists, we don’t look back and celebrate what we’ve accomplished.  One author I know frames every book cover she’s had published.  She does it not to show off but to remind herself of what she’s done and to serve as inspiration to do more.
4. Surround yourself with positive people and attitudes.  In any social group, there are naysayers and doom and gloom lovers.  I know who they are in my life, and I’m going to shut down their negative influence.  This includes any self doubt.  “As you think, so shall you be.”
5. Create a conducive writing space.  Not everyone can have their dream office.  My first writing desk was in the basement next to the furnace.  (my children wrote “Redrum” on the cement wall I faced.  While I wrestled words, they watched “The Shining.”)  Whatever space you have should reflect your tastes.  You’ll be more comfortable and productive.  I vow to not let my elegant disorder slide toward frustrating clutter.
6. Say No more often.  My family doesn’t make as many demands on me as they did a decade ago, but other influences distract me from writing.  Television.  The internet (do you spend more time on Facebook, Twitter or email?)  I will say No to the television, and stop checking for the latest Tweet.  This will give me more energy, focus and increase my imagination.
7. Say Yes to exercise more.  A cluttered mind and body are unproductive.  I have bike rides in May I need to get in shape for.  The treadmill or a walk outdoors clears cobwebs and tones muscles.  Meditation gives balance.  I will say No to other distractions and Yes to exercise.

These are the tools I’ll use to increase motivation and accomplish more writing.  What tips have you used to stay at the keyboard?

Mary and I are off to Spring Fling on Friday, but I’ll be back on Monday to report on the great stuff we learned, the fabulous writers we met and the secrets of the Hyatt Deerfield.  Until then, stay safe.

Spring is here, and writing conferences are popping up like dandelions.  Mary and I are attending Spring Fling this weekend in Chicago, and we are super excited about meeting fellow authors, attending workshops and pitching to agents and editors.

If  you are attending your first writing conference this year, here are a few tips to help you feel more comfortable with the experience.

Eight awesome writing conference tips

1.  What to wear?  While mom jeans and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt sound perfect for an escape  from the family, RESIST.  You’re attending a professional conference, present yourself as a professional.  Dress as if you’re attending a job interview, because you are.  Sell yourself first, your writing second.

a. Look nice, but be comfortable, including your footwear.  You’ll be surprised by how much walking you’ll do.

b. Bring a sweater.  There is an unwritten hotel law that workshop rooms must double as food lockers.

2.  There will be crowded elevators.  It’s a given and another hotel rule.  You’ll spend an inordinate amount of time waiting for an elevator only to have the doors open to a car packed with writers, luggage and big hair.  Think about leaving before or much later than the keynote lunch/contest/book signing on the last day or wait until the next morning.  Or make friends with the hotel staff and convince them to let you use the service elevator.  Not that I ever did anything like that.

3.  Rabid monkeys won’t eat your children if you freeze at an editor/agent appointment.  Everyone is nervous.  Practice your pitch so you can describe your protagonist’s main conflict, but don’t be surprised if the conversation veers in another direction.

a.  Don’t bring your manuscript.  Pul-leeze.  Does the editor want to tote it back to her office?  Does she have a spare moment to read it?

b.  Do bring a business card.  (Plug VistaPrint here) Pass them out to everyone in a nice, non-obnoxious way.

c.  Say thank you.  Say it again with a brief email after the conference.

d. If you’re asked to submit it, DO IT.  Soon.  Not next month, or next year after you’ve rewritten it.  The agent did not feel sorry for you and ask frivolously.  She liked your premise and wants to read more.

4.  There will be books.  Book fairs, book signings, author giveaways, free books (yes, free!)  Leave room in your luggage for lots of books because resistance is futile.

5.  You can’t do it all.  You will miss a workshop, a famous author Q & A, a publisher spotlight, a party.  Pace yourself.  Which brings us to -

6.  Take care of yourself.  It’s easy to skip meals, eat too much, drink too much.

a. Hydrate.  Often.

b. Watch your alcohol intake.  The action is at the bar, but use common sense.  Do you want to be fodder for everyone’s blog tomorrow? (or an anecdote forever?)

c.  Rest.  Take a break in the middle of the afternoon.  Skip something for an hour.

7.  Make a friend.  Yes, you.  Writers are loners, quiet, shy, introverted.  We shun family to talk to imaginary people.  But do you really want to observe the whole conference?

a.  Tip # 1 – The other person is just as shy as you are.

b.  Tip # 2 – Be someone else.  Jane or Sue or Dana Writer, who is amazingly bold and walks up to strangers and introduces herself. (It’s what I do.  Cheryl Writer can talk about anything to anyone)

c.  Tip # 3 – Conversation is more listening than talking.

d.  Tip # 4 – Start with “What do you write?”

e.  Tip # 5 – “Can I buy you a drink?” works, too.  (hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink)

8.  See the host city.  You might not visit it at any other time, so explore a little.  Find some time to taste the local specialty, meet a native or see a famous attraction.  While my fellow writers were locked in a hotel, I’ve wandered the stalls of a street fair, watched white tigers being fed and discovered an underground city.

There you have it, my exceptional tips to help you survive the craziness of a writers conference.  It’s exhausting, exhilarating and unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

Look for me.  I’ll be the one holding a hot pink digital recorder the size of a stapler in one hand and the 100 page instruction book in the other.

Look out, Windy City!

Cheryl

Last night I went to hear the Holland Symphony Orchestra.  It was their twentieth anniversary, and to celebrate the occasion they were going to play the world premier of a piece they had commissioned called “Transformations.”

Generally, I love any kind of music.  In fact, I might be the only person who listens to a combination of country, Christian, and classic rock on their way to the symphony and turns up a little Santana on the way home.  But most “world premier” symphony music causes me pain.  You can’t politely walk out in the middle of a piece, and you can’t  push a handy radio button to change the station.  You’re stuck, wondering if the composer had eaten a bad piece of meat just prior to deciding that his work sounded like anything the human ear should consume.

Enter Tom Schneller.  Hopelessly young and professorial looking.   And, of course, being born in 1974, unavoidably modern.

I’m sitting there with my bad attitude, waiting to endure this man’s music so I can get to the Dvorak at the end of the concert.  Schneller is introduced.  The conductor obviously loves him.  I’m doubly  sure of my impending misery.  The lights dim; the concert begins.

And it was beautiful.  The first few measures were actually melodic, and the piece grew and grew into this wonderful, lush song that made my writer’s mind envision that great part of a story where the heroine finally has an epiphany and blossoms into the confident, powerful, and unafraid person the reader always wanted her to be.

Folks in Holland, Michigan give standing ovations for so many things that the gesture has lost a bit of its honor.  However, Tom Schneller fully deserved the one he got last night.  And I deserve a piece of crow pie.

So, all of this leads me to three questions for my readers.  Have you had any great surprises lately?  Do you write to music? And if you do, what kind?

I’ll be back on Thursday to discuss writing to music. I’d love to have some of your answers and opinions by then.

All the best,

Mary