A Clean House is One in Which No Writing is Being Done (Unless You Have A Maid, But That’s Cheating)

I’ve got to admit that I’m often torn between the demands of real life, and the demands of the fake people who live in my head.  Sure, there are certain responsibilities that must be attended to—cats don’t feed themselves, dog vomit doesn’t magically disappear—but is it imperative that my dresser be dusted off?  Who sees it anyway?  Me.  And do I care?

Technically, no.  I don’t.  Most of the dust in my bedroom is comprised of my own dead skin cells anyway, right?  So why do I care if part of me now resides on top of my dresser?  It makes its own kind of sense, really.  But—even practical me gets a dragging sense of inadequacy when I see that layer of dust.  I’ve failed as a housekeeper.

Then the flip side asks me—what if I fail as a writer?  What if the fake people in my head die and I walk around smelling bad because of it?  OK that last bit isn’t going to happen, but cutting off the circulation to my imagination will in fact kill my characters, and nothing cuts off the blood flow to the brain like housework.

And hey fellas—this applies across the board.  I know plenty of awesome dudes and single fathers who work their butts off, so don’t think that this is a female-centric philosophy. 

I was recently reading the excellent book Women Who Run With the Wolves: Contacting the Power of the Wild Woman by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, and came upon this excellent quote:

“I've seen women work long, long hours at jobs they despise in order to buy very expensive items for their houses, mates, or children, and putting their considerable talents on the back burner. I've seen women insist on cleaning everything in the house before they could sit down to write... and you know, it's a funny thing about house cleaning... it never comes to an end. Perfect way to stop a woman. A woman must be careful to not allow overresponsibility (or overrespectability) to steal her necessary creative rests, rifts, and raptures. She simply must put her foot down and say no to half of what she believes she "should" be doing. Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.”

Think on that for a bit, the last sentence particularly.  It resonated with me, and I’m betting it will with you, too.

Sex in YA - You Know You Want It

"... and you know you want me to give it to you." Biff's words to Lorraine in Back to the Future had me totally flummoxed for a looong time. What was it? How could Biff give it to her? And why was he trying to touch her panties in the front seat of the car during the dance? Why was Lorriane talking about Marty's Calvin Klein's in their meeting scene? What's the fixation with underwear?

I remained in the dark about these topics for awhile. I knew sex existed, but I didn't have the whole Tab A, Slot B mechanics of the dance figured out until er... well... later. Not so today's teens. Blame it on the media, blame it on the culture, blame on parenting, blame it on the rain (how many 80's references can I get in here?) Let's just set blame aside and focus on the fact that it simply IS. My opinion - kids aren't having more sex, or earlier than before - it's simply no longer a taboo subject.

So, because it's not taboo, because they do know the mechanics - what do we write about it? Do we write about it?

It's up to you. I've read some really graphic sex scenes in YA. I don't find them offensive. I have a hard time believing there's anything in there that the average teen hasn't already been exposed to. However, I do monitor content in the books that I give out to junior high students - not necessarily because I think they're about to have their minds deflowered - but because their parents DO believe that, and they might have my ass in a sling. And I need my ass. I use it everyday.

My own philosophy runs thus; I have always believed that less is more. Why does Jaws work? 'Cause you don't see the shark. I typically refrain from physically describing my characters because I want my readers to fill in their hot guy, their hallway bitch, themselves as the MC. So when it comes to those backseat moments, or when my MC invites a guy over to "watch a movie," (yeah right, I have yet to see the end of Ferris Bueller's Day Off), I want them to fill in slot B on their own. Something happened. Unless it's imperative to the plot, does it matter what? Do they need the description? Do they need to see that shark?

Here's a great example from Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix: (I know you're saying "What!  An HP makeout scene?") Oh yeah... it's there. A meeting of Dumbledore's Army has just ended. Everyone has filed out except for Cho and Harry, who are kinda hanging out there in the Room of Requirement... and who didn't guess that thing had multiple uses? pg. 456-457:

"I really like you Harry."
He could not think.  A tingling sensation was spreading throughout him, paralyzing his arms, legs and brain.
She was much too close.  He could see every tear clinging to her eyelashes...
*PAGE BREAK*
He returned to the common room half an hour later to find Hermione and Ron..."

Hey! Wait a second!! Half an hour later? Gee... what were they doing? Now, obviously Rowling had a duty to her young readers to keep it clean, and to her older readers to keep it interesting. Not so for all writers, certainly. But I think it's a good example of letting the reader take it to their own level - of comfort, of familiarity, without being told what happened.

My own writing gives a little more detail than this highly gratuitous page break, but you get the idea.

One last thought - what do you want your readers to take away from your book? I haven't read Breaking Dawn, but I know that Edward and Bella break the headboard, cause that's all anyone wanted to talk about. Other than that - zero clue what the plot is about.

I'd love some feedback! What are your thoughts? Show the shark, or keep him underwater?  :)

A Collection of Friday Thoughts on Futility

It's Friday - Spring Break Friday - so it's one of those bittersweet days where I take stock of all the things that I didn't accomplish on this week off.  There's also quite a bit I DID do, but I'm neurotic so we're focusing on my failings today :)

I've discovered that if I take all the knitting projects I've got piled up, the books waiting for me to read them, the genealogy data I need to slog through.... my life is essentially claimed.  I mean the whole thing - no time for sleeping, eating, bathing, parenting, working or writing.  What this means is that I will die poor and stinky of exhaustion, but my friends will have hats for their babies, I will die well read, and I'll be able to say "Hey, I know you!" to my ancestors when I arrive in the afterlife.

So how do we balance these things, not only as writers, but as human beings?

Hobbies are awesome until we're no longer doing them for pleasure.  It's the process that's supposed to be enjoyable, not the end result.  Do I want to hate every stitch I make, but love the sweater?  Do I resent the time I put into reading, just to be able to say "I read that?"  Obviously no, if that's the approach, we've missed the point.

I think the same is true of writing.  If I sit down and I'm hating every word, or writing them only to fill in blank spaces, or hit that goal for the day - I don't think I'm accomplishing anything.  Sure, it's not just a hobby now, it's my career.  But it's a career by choice.  I do it because I'm incapable of NOT doing it, if that makes sense.  In other words, if the muse isn't talking today, I'm OK with that.

She'll be back :)