A Work in Progress

So, it's not that I don't like writing. That's like saying I don't like coffee. Neither one is true, and neither will ever happen in my lifetime. However, when things around my life get busy -- things that have nothing to do with writing-- it seems that this is not only the first thing to go, but the first thing I don't want to do. Okay, so sometimes I do want to write, especially when things get out-of-whack. It's an outlet of sorts; to get away from what I find myself so wrapped up in, and I can escape to a world of unreality. But more often than not, like right now, I just can't get the will power to sit down and write anything major. Why am I telling you this? Because, going through a dry spell, a writers' slump, is a normal thing. We go through periods of writing non-stop for days, thousands and thousands of words, only to look back a week later and wonder how we did that and now, more importantly, how we are going to write one measly sentence.

One of the last resolutions I talked about --in my first post of the year ( click here )-- was to find a way to sit down and write a letter or note (amidst our busy life) by hand. A real letter. A real written letter. As in, to write it: as in pen to paper sort of thing. The idea is so vague and distorted now -- as if it were a dinosaur that we don’t want to reckon with anymore -- that we seem old-fashioned if we write something out, even a thank you note. But, if you really want to appreciate the art form of writing again, then that dino needs to remain alive and active and not extinct. Because today is Valentine’s Day, let us briefly discuss this idea of actual writing. If you have a loved one, someone you cherish and are planning on celebrating Valentine’s day with (or even if you’re not and just wanting to wish them a happy day) then you better have actually written out that note. Text messages and e-mails, in my humble opinion, don’t count. Whip out a red or white pie

Do you LOVE Jane Austens' work? Do you LOVE writing? Do you have a secret dream to write just like her? (Or in my case, to jump at the opportunity to write like Austen because it is so ridiculously hard?) Then check out this great contest called Write Like Jane , where your love for both Austen and writing make a perfect combination ... just like Ms. Bennet and Darcy.

I had good intentions last year to read a book a week. That's 52 books. It really shouldn't have been an issue. Certainly I could find something worth reading, with the library so close by. And that there were tons of things I loved to read about, well, I had this 2010 New Year's resolution in the bag! I fell very short of that goal. And it is why I revamped my goals for this year (by a lot) to only one book a month. Before you tell me that this can't be right, that it seems rather extreme, like I should be horrified at reading so little, don't say it. At this point in my life, with a dog, my busy kids, cooking, housekeeping, working, editing ... reading has almost become laborious. In 2010, I forced myself to be something I wanted to be, and was still failing. After failing my own others-driven goal, I knew I had a problem. It is understood that writers are supposed to read. This is a school-driven, author-proven, writer-demanded way of living and thinking.

That title seems horribly incongruous. Yet, I mean every word of it. Let me start this post by asking you a question: Can editing really be your friend? Let me ask a second question: Is editing really necessary? Well, here's another question to think about while you ponder the veracity of the first two: Does the sun rise every morning? The answer to the third question is the answer to the other two as well. Yes. You must edit. You must go back and get rid of the excess. You must face the daunting task of wiping away scores of words from your computer -- the very words that fill your heart with joy. You MUST do this because those superfluous words do nothing for the story. As in, they are only there because it sounds good. Sounding good is really not good, in the literary world. Because most of the time when you think you sound good, you sound like a prolific seal, barking up a storm over nothing. And that, my friends, is no good. Good writing comes from knowing how to ed