On Inspiration

By DeAnna Knippling

Inspiration. It’s a great feeling, to be inspired. To write, to fall in love, to have faith in the world. 

www.inspiredbylifeandfiction.com

But it’s just a feeling.

If you’re waiting for inspiration to hit before you write, well, you’re going to waiting around a lot. And then, because inspiration never hits on schedule, you’re going to be driving to work, you’re going to be in a meeting, you’re going to be in the middle of an argument about who’s wrong on the Internet.

You’ll get a note or two from your flash of inspiration. And then...more waiting.

Okay, so maybe sometimes you have to work when you’re not inspired.

There’s that saying, “Butt in chair, fingers on keyboard.” It tries to be an inspirational phrase, but it just isn’t. It isn’t eagles flying. It isn’t music swelling in the background. It isn’t love at first sight. Just because it’s true doesn’t make it inspirational. Which means that once again, you’re waiting around for inspiration so you can figure out how to get your butt in the chair, so then you can get your fingers on the keyboard.

But let’s say that you do hide out in a coffee shop somewhere, with no wireless and no outlets, dusty chandeliers on the ceiling and beat-up, second-hand velvet chairs, and you bring an old leather-bound journal with you, the one you last wrote in when you were in college and that has all those old poems where you tried to be Shelley or Angelou for a few stanzas. And you sit down and you write with the notebook balanced on your knees with a spotty pen that keeps leaving blobs on your page while teenagers shout gossip and lines of pseudo-philosophy above the sound of the espresso maker and the clink of those little spoons on saucers, and you’re really feeling inspired and then the next day you go back and read it--

And it’s crap.

I’m telling you, that inspiration. It’s just a feeling.

If what you need is the equivalent of love at first sight in order to write, you've got problems. It doesn’t actually make you write any better than the butt in chair technique. And it certainly won’t help you write more. 

Real writing is like any other thing that we do out of love. Most days you’re not going to be in the heat of passion. You just aren’t. Most days you’re going to get up in the morning and go through your routine. Some days you’re going to think, “Why bother anyway?” And some days you’re going to grit your teeth and swear you’re leaving.

Real writing is like real love. It’s dirty and cranky and bad-tempered and foul-mouthed and has its arms crossed over its chest and eats too much Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey when nobody’s looking. You have to change its diapers. It pukes everywhere. It screams at you that it wishes it were never born, and why did you have to be its parent anyway? It gets drunk and comes home and passes out on the front lawn and you never want to see it again but you do. It gets in ruts. It has a midlife crisis with every freaking book. It goes deaf, it putters around the house accomplishing nothing, leaving a trail of dirty socks and making sardonic observations about the neighbors.

Okay, granted. There are days when you and your writing need to spend some time apart. And some stories that are just going to leave you, or you them. And sometimes you’ll look at what you’re really writing and wish that you only had to write when you felt like you were falling in love all over again.

Falling in love isn’t real love, though. It’s just the possibility of maybe finding the one. 

You already have the one. Your creativity. It’s inside you already. Your spirit, your muse. Already there. And when you are off chasing inspiration, your muse is left behind. Saying in a small voice, “But what about me?”

You’re longing for something you already have.

That inspiration. It’s a feeling, you know. That doesn’t make it nice. 

So.

Why not sit down at your keyboard and try giving something to your muse for once, instead of demanding everything from it? Try taking care of your muse for a while, instead of forcing it, instead of beating your head against the wall, instead of waiting around and making calf eyes at every slutty little moment of inspiration that walks by your stool in the Pity Me Writer Bar. 

What does your muse want?

...the same thing that anyone in a long-term relationship wants.

Just to have you pay attention.

About the Author: DeAnna Knippling started freelancing in May 2011 and wouldn’t be able to do it without her wonderful family and friends, especially her husband. In fact, she owes a lot to Pikes Peak Writers for helping her be a better writer, especially through the Write Brains, both in the lectures and in meeting lots of other writers.

Her reason for writing is to entertain by celebrating her family’s tradition of dry yet merry wit, and to help ease the suffering of lack of self-confidence, having suffered it many years herself. She also likes to poke around and ask difficult questions, because she hates it when people assume something must be so.

For more kicks in the writerly pants, see her blog at www.deannaknippling.com or her ebook How to Fail & Keep on Writing, available at Smashwords, B&N, Amazon, and OmniLit.

September Letter From the Editor

September, when the weather begins to cool. Don't let your writing cool with the falling temperatures. Summer's waning doesn't mean your writing should do the same. If anything, fall brings us a little more consistency. Kids are back in school. Vacations have been taken. People tend to put their noses back to the grindstones when summer fades away, and this can include writing. 

Persistence is key, pushing through, being flexible as schedules change. What better way to illustrate that than Pat Cadigan who won a Hugo Award last night after many nominations that never previously produced a win? He persisted, and it paid off.

The publishing world is full of waiting, rejections, banging your head on your desk, and frustration. You survive it by being patient, marching on, writing, submitting, editing, and submitting again. Ultimately, it leads to the success you dream of, whatever that may be for you. 

I'm personally feeling inspired by the Hugo's, itching to write, to find success in the ways I aspire to. I hope you're feeling the same. Find your inspiration, determine your goals, and reach for them. It's time.

~Shannon Lawrence
Managing Editor, Writing From the Peak
Pikes Peak Writers NCE Director

A note: We're still looking for someone to coordinate the Sweet Success posts. You'd be responsible for posting reminders for people to contact you with their Sweet Success information, gathering the information you'll need for their posts, and compiling that information. If interested in this position, email me at editor@pikespeakwriters.com. This is not a paid position, but we'll link to your blog or personal website in the sidebar and list you as the Sweet Success Coordinator. The time commitment is minimal.

Why I Write - A Piece by Stephen Graham Jones

By Stephen Graham Jones


I write because I can’t draw. I write because I can’t cut to the basket slick enough to go pro. I write because I eat too many Sixlets and drink too much tea and my fingers get all jittery, and I have to put them somewhere.

I write because, for a few pages at a time, I can make the world make sense. I write so I don’t end up trolling distant neighborhoods for pets. Not to pet. And not only pets. I write because a lot of what I read disappoints me. I write because a lot of what I read intimidates me. I write because I’m jealous. I write because I’ll drive my wife out of the house if I have to follow her around, tell her all the stories in my head. I write because I think sometimes that I know the truth. Not to say it, but how it feels. And I can sometimes glance off that if I’m not paying too much attention. I write because there’s nothing more honest that I can think of. I write because it’s not work. I write because I want more toys. I write because I don’t know what to say to people I know and love in prison. But I can send them books. I write because I love rollercoasters. I don’t write because I want to live forever. I write because I want to live now. I write because a teacher once read one of my pages, looked at me like maybe. I write because all the rest of the teachers didn’t even look at my pages before deciding about me. I write for revenge. I write because books are legal, and other things aren’t. I write because I can’t sing like Bonnie Tyler. I write because writing matters. I write because if I don’t, I get trapped counting and cutting and cutting and counting. I write because when I’m not writing, I go out and do things that land me in the emergency room. Because I want the world to feel like it should. Like it does on the page. I write because I can’t learn to play harmonica. I write because books have saved my life. I write because I’m petty. I write because lying is the best thing ever. I write because I hate to be lied to. I write because I want to run across the caliche, but that’s too secret to tell. Too terrible. Too almost wonderful. I write because I sometimes feel like I have too many secrets, too many almosts. I write because I don’t know what to do at dinner parties other than go inside my head, where it’s safe. I write because I’ve always been standing in the corner, even when I’m not. I write to scare people. I write to make people laugh. I write to let people cry. I write to hide. I write to see what I’m thinking. I write because the stories are coming out one way or another. I write because once upon a time I read the exact perfect book, and it changed me forever. I write because fiction is magic. You can reach across centuries to another person with it. Across galaxies. I write because my kids might not ever really know me the right way if I don’t. I write because I’m always afraid I’m about to die, because I always wake expecting to die and trying to do jittery little finger combinations to ward it off. I write because special effects are easy, in prose. Provided you’ve got those effects in your head. I write because I might luck on to something nobody else has ever even tried before. I write because I want so badly to just go the party, please. As a person. I write because if I don’t, then I can’t think of what else to try to do. People always ask me this, why I write. And it never makes the right kind of sense, that question. So I just stand there kind of squinting, looking around for when I can leave. Then they ask what inspires me. This makes a bit more sense, but not really. I’m never inspired. I’m always inspired. Inspire is the wrong word. I’m compelled. There are stories out there. There are stories in here. And I’m going as fast as I can, trying to trap them on a page in a way that they can still be alive. That we can still see them flying. That we can still hook on, go away with them. People sometimes write me and call me and tell me that this story I made up, I didn’t make it up at all. It’s their story. But it was mine too, for a little bit. I write because one life isn’t long enough. I write because I lost all my action figures long ago. The game went on, though. The game never stopped.

(Originally published in Stymie Magazine, April 30, 2012.)

About the Author: Stephen Graham Jones is a Blackfeet Native American award-winning author of experimental fiction and science fiction. His work includes Demon Theory, Ledfeather, It Came from Del Rio, and the collection of stories The Ones That Almost Got Away.  His most recent release, Growing Up Dead in Texas, is based on his own life and has been met with much acclaim. He shares a fan base known as "The Velvet" with fellow authors Will Christopher Baer and Craig Clevenger, and you can find him on the Web at demontheory.net. In his day-job he's a professor of English at the University of Colorado at Boulder. When he's not teaching, spending time with his family, reading or writing, you might catch him shopping for knives, watching movies, or eating the retro candy Sixlets.

Denver SCBWI Conference Offers Tips for All Writers

By Stacy S. Jensen

What came first: children reading at a higher-grade level or books aimed at that market?

I never figured out the answer to this question, but know from my attendance at the Society of Children’s Book Writer’s & Illustrators regional Letters & Lines Fall conference in September the market is changing.

Editors, authors and agents all repeated the comment that parents are pushing their children to read at an earlier age. As a result, picture books are geared toward a younger market as older children are reading chapter books, middle grades and young adult novels sooner.

The Rocky Mountain Area region conference brought men and women, writers and illustrators, from Colorado and Wyoming to Denver to learn more about the craft and today’s publishing market.

Women outnumbered the men at the Rocky Mountain Area Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators regional conference, so the bathrooms near the workshop rooms were changed to accommodate the attendees.

This is the first conference I’ve attended that had a specific policy outlining blogging and recording policies. My thoughts comply with this line in the policy: “While we think it’s great when bloggers share thoughts about their overall experience, offer a personal anecdote, and/or briefly talk about something that resonated with them, it is equally important that bloggers not give away that which is not theirs to give.”

In a spirit of not pirating anyone’s material (and utilizing those starred notes from the workshops I attended), I’m sharing a few observations that apply to many writers — not just children’s writers.

• Author Todd Mitchell gave the banquet keynote with a fun Power Point. Two key thoughts: “No one else can tell your story” and “If you can be talked out of writing, then why are you doing it?”

• Author Denise Vega: “You always need to be working on a new project.” She also emphasized in her Publishing 101 session: “It’s a business.”

• In response to a picture book writer saying editors don’t like her story, Holiday House Editor Sylvie Frank said, “It’s not that we don’t like them. We can’t sell them.”

• Author Chris Crutcher said real life stories can be turned into fiction. He used an iPad as he read from his books. His print books were sold in the conference bookstore.

• Illustrator turned author Leslie Ann Clark shared her baby — her manuscript wrapped in a blanket. The power of a strong character was evident in her publication story. She created her Peepsqueak character first and then landed a contract to write her story.

• Illustrator and self-published author Will Terry shared how he created his first picture book application and published some children’s ebooks. On the topic of self-publication, he said there’s no substitute to being early to market due to different ebook publisher ranking methods. During the discussion on children’s storybook apps, he said books face the problem of going out of print while ebook or storybook apps can face the dilemma of being nonfunctional as readers and tablet technology changes.

• Illustrator and Designer Megan Halsey spoke about her personal creative umbrella — how she expanded into different markets and how her personal artwork feeds into her design and illustration work. She encouraged attendees to listen to her inner voice and ask, “Where’s my joy?” to help navigate the publishing and creative world.

• For those working on book covers or any art, Will Terry shared in another session the importance of using a thumbnail size of your drawing/photo to work out the shape, design and values of lights and darks.

• Author Jean Reidy shared her picture book revision process. A noteworthy reminder: “The publisher is your first customer.”

The regional SCBWI conference offered a variety of craft and motivational workshops for those interested in writing or illustrating for children. My favorite part of any conference is hanging out with other writers. I met several online writing friends from the 12 x 12 in 2012 picture book writing challenge, several PPW friends and met a few new folks from Colorado Springs.

What’s the best advice you’ve heard at a writer’s conference?  

About the Author: Stacy S. Jensen worked as a newspaper reporter and editor for two decades. Today, she writes picture books and revises a memoir manuscript. She lives in Colorado Springs with her husband and toddler.  You can find her at her blog: http://stacysjensen.blogspot.com and on Twitter: @StacySJensen.

Finding Your Inner Puppy by Shannon Baker

You guys know the scene. Distraught writer sitting in a pool of light from her laptop in the pre-dawn darkness. Tap, tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. PAAAAAUUUUSE. Sigh. Shift. Sip coffee. Tap, tap. Rinse. Repeat.

I had to drag every single syllable from the basement of my brain with bowling balls attached to them. Time slid by and the word count flatlined. The dog—the relentless, demanding, who-agreed-to-dogsit-a-beast-with-a-morning-walk-routine, dog—stood in front of me wagging her tail, panting and making it plain the walk deadline had arrived.

Timber clearly didn’t understand my dilemma. Nora needed to be in the empty farmhouse in the middle of the night so the villain could pull a gun on her. But how was I going to get her there in a plausible—or at least plausible in the mystery world—way? Time was running out. Not for Nora, but for me, who has a regular life and day job and a word count woefully unfulfilled.

Sentient beings can be so distracting and inspiration so illusive. I slapped the laptop closed, dressed, and in a grumbling fit of impatience, rounded up my snowshoes, poles, and the gators hiding at the very bottom of the winter accouterments box where I’d tossed them last spring.

We had the first big snow dump of the season the night before and I was not looking forward to trudging through a freezing forest in the gray dawn. Not. At. All.

Timber, on the other hand, was ecstatic. She raced ahead, dodged trees, dug and scooted and zoomed, acting way more like a puppy than the her fourteen years on this Earth would belie.

The crisp air started to blow away the heaviness of my mind. I laughed at Timber’s antics and bypassed the short loop, deciding my plotter’s brain needed fresh air and exertion to problem solve. Natalie Goldberg, among others, recommends walks to jumpstart inspiration. My solution rested just beyond that snow-crusted pine.

The sun burst through the morning clouds sparking snow diamonds and dazzling the forest around us. I spent so much energy I had endorphins dancing through my system all day. And I felt good. No more grumpy-gloomies.

I know you were all expecting that when I found my inner-puppy the answer to my plot tangle would miraculously present itself. It didn’t. But I was a better human being for letting go of the frustration and gaining clearer perspective. The words won’t come by damming myself with a wall of frustration. Even if the floodgates don’t open because of my commune with nature and Timber, I’m sure my coworkers and the Man With Endless Tolerance (MWET) were pleased with my improved attitude.

It wasn’t until much later, while sitting in the hot tub listening (or making a face as if I were listening) to MWET discuss the pros and cons of refinancing and the likelihood of renting as opposed to selling, I had my Eureka! moment. Perhaps my slacker imagination enjoyed the mini vacation and coughed up the nugget I needed as reward. Probably not. At any rate the romp in the snow didn’t hurt and it might have helped.

What about you? What do you do when the words won’t come?

(Originally published on the Inkspot blog, December 9, 2011)

About the Writer: Shannon Baker has a right brain/left brain conflict. While the left brain focuses on her career as an accountant, her right brain concocts thrillers, including her 2010 release, Ashes of the Red Heifer. A lover of mountains, plains, oceans and rivers, she can often be found traipsing around the great outdoors. The first book in the Nora Abbott Mystery Series will release in the March 2013 from Midnight Ink publishers.

Showing Up by Mandy Houk

“If I waited till I felt like writing, I’d never write at all.” – Anne Tyler

When I first signed up to teach a high school creative writing class, my number one priority was to get the kids to write on a regular basis. That might sound obvious, but I had learned over the years that, even for those who profess a love of writing, a daily appointment with pen and paper is not a given.

Today, four years later, I’m still teaching, and even though the collection of students changes every August, I have the same approach—along with the same challenges.

My approach is to require twenty minutes of “free writing” per day, five days per week. I provide each student with a composition book (a sentimental throw-back to my own early elementary days, when my love for writing was born), and I try my best to make clear in the first class session what “free writing” means. It takes a bit more explanation than one might expect. I get questions like, “Can we write poetry?” followed immediately by, “Do we have to write poetry?” Also, “I can’t spell—do I have to spell things right?” Or, most often, “What if I don’t have anything to say?!” This question, which comes up every year, is almost always uttered in a shaky voice, from a student whose eyes are wild with panic.

I try to reassure them that the key word in the phrase free writing is free. All I ask is that they show up physically, with pen and comp book; and that they show up mentally, with open minds and imaginations. They can write about what they had for supper, or how stressed they are about exams. They can write about a conversation they overheard—in fact, I encourage that one. Eavesdropping is a writer’s lifeline. My hope, of course, is that the muse will strike at about minute 15 or 16: the student will stop checking the clock and stop musing about what they want for dessert, and will take off on an inspired tangent in which a grandmother decides to poison her neighbor with toxic pound cake only to do herself in when, out of habit, she licks the beaters.

What the students don’t know, and what cannot simply be told to them, is that this kind of inspiration really will happen (heck, I came up with the poison pound cake just now—and I like it, so it’s getting kind of tricky to stay focused on this article). What they also do not know, and what I simply will not tell them, is that, for every quirky little story (like one student’s bit about the food-gang wars that go on when he shuts the fridge and the light goes out), there will be eight or ten ramblings about homework and the weather and little brothers and chores.

The students moan and whine for the first several weeks of class, sure that I’m either insane or sadistic to place such a burden on their delicate young shoulders. I’ve even received emails from parents, hinting or outright stating that writing should be organic and natural and not forced, and such a regimented approach can’t possibly be the best way to teach.

I don’t win over every student (or parent). There is usually one student who is still moaning at the end of the year. And that’s okay. Because there are others whose writing habits are changed forever by the simple act of regularly showing up to write. In my first year of teaching alone, I had two students that did not take my class by choice—they just needed the credit. At the end of the year, one of those students had discovered a love for poetry and filled his pages with truly beautiful stuff. The other student had started writing compulsively, even on the weekends when it was not required. I ran into her just a few weeks ago at a restaurant in town (three full years after she graduated), and one of the first things she said was, “I’m still writing! I just keep buying composition books and filling them up!”

What these kids have learned is this: writing is organic and natural and can’t be forced. But inspiration is not going to chase you around and tackle you. And it’s also not going to wait until you’ve got access to a pen and paper or a laptop before it pounces (how many times have you thought of something brilliant when you’re in the shower or the car or somewhere else impossible, and later, incredibly, you can’t recall what it was?). Inspiration is elusive and tricky and unpredictable, and if you’re going to be a writer, you have to outsmart it: show up. Show up at a desk or a coffee shop or your own kitchen table, equipped with a blank piece of paper and usually an equally blank mind. Sometimes only drivel will result. But other times, inspiration will fly unwittingly into the trap you’ve set, and there you’ll be—ready and waiting.

About the Writer:  Mandy Brown Houk is a freelance writer and editor, and she teaches at a small private high school in Old Colorado City. She's written for several magazines and anthologies, and has completed two novels--only one of which is worthy of the light of day. Mandy's work is represented by Sally LaVenture at Warner Literary Group. Her web site is www.mandybrownhouk.com.