laurell's BLOG -, Aggiornato quotidianamente.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Cures for Writer’s Block & some Preventatives
I don’t get writer’s block, it’s a failure of confidence and that’s not my gig, but I do have moments when the words don’t come, when the negative thoughts crowd in so thick that my muse gets pushed out. It’s the closest I get to the dreaded block. I Tweeted about it, but I get so many writers asking me how to avoid the block, that I thought I’d share what I do to push past it.

This morning it was nearly noon and I had no pages, and no desire to write any. I was really stuck.

I finally gave in and wrote in my meditation journal about the dreams I had last night, then I meditated for insight and guidiance. Still stuck. I went over to the other side of the house and got a yogurt. If I don’t have enough fuel in my body the brain starts getting fuzzy. Yogurt helped, but didn’t unstick me. Carri and I had a cup of green tea and conversation. That helped, because somewhere in there I realized that I had gone to bed thinking negative thoughts, it had haunted my dreams all night, and stayed with me to ride to work this morning. Once I realized that it was my own thoughts and emotions getting in the way of the writing I could begin to work through it. (And let’s face it, that’s usually what’s getting in the way.)

I’ll give you two phrases that I use on days like this. Phrase 1: "It is not what happens but your attitude towards what happens that determines how you feel."

We all know people who are unflaggingly optimistic in the face of bad things, and people who are unflaggingly pessimistic in the face similar things. The only change is the attitude of the person involved, the events don’t change at all, just the attitude, and that you can control.

Phrase 2: "Let go of the day you had planned and enjoy the day you’ve been given." This phrase works with different problems like, "Let go of the relationship you had planned and enjoy the relationship you’ve been given." "Let go of the job you had planned and enjoy the job you’ve been given." See, it works with almost anything.

Let go of trying to control everything and truly embrace the gifts you’ve actually been given, to do anything else is like being a kid on Christmas morning and you’ve got a lot of really cool toys, but you didn’t get the one Captain Atom Smash-Up Space Ship, and because you didn’t get this one toy you don’t want to play with any of your other cool stuff. You just sit and sulk about not getting the Captain Atom Smash-Up Space Ship, while totally ignoring the Captain Atom Space Station.

It’s the old attitude that if I can’t have exactly what I want, I don’t want anything. I have a tendency towards this so I speak from experience when I say, let it go, because to do anything else just makes you miserable and it doesn’t get you any closer to what you really want, it just stops you from enjoying your other wonderful presents.

I find that most "writer’s block" is actually anxiety or fear. Fear that you’ll never live up to expectations, or you’ll never be able to finish the book, or that nothing you will write down is interesting enough so everyone will hate it, so why bother. You feel anxious get up and brush your teeth, or comb your hair, put on makeup, wash the dishes, anything that is fairly automatic and doesn’t require a lot of thinking, and it must be a quick task. Do it, then notice how much calmer you feel. First, it’s something you know you can actually do, second it’s visible and solid. You brush your teeth, you taste that minty freshness. It’s not like writing where you aren’t sure how to start a scene, or if you’ve gotten distracted, those are too intangible, brushing your teeth is about as concerte and mundane as it gets. But whatever task you choose I find that it short circuits the panic and I can often go back to work and I am unblocked.

Someday’s just making hot tea is enough to break the cycle of anxiety. Meditation or prayer on a regular basis helps keep most stress lower, and for me exercise on a regular basis really helps me manage my stress. If I’m eating properly, getting enough sleep, exercising, meditating regularly, all this seems to help me avoid mornings like today. Also a few select friends that just seem to help refresh you and help you laugh are wonderful preventatives of black moods of all kinds. I’m blessed with several people in my life that seem to feed my soul and my muse. I’m lucky enough to be married to one of them. So, I meditated, had green tea, talked with Carri, had my aha moment and when I sat down back down to just get a few sentences started so I wouldn’t come back to a blank start of the new chapter this afternoon lo and behold I had 5 good pages in about an hour. I was unblocked. Yay!

May your own writing be muse-driven, and brilliant.

Posted by LKH on 08/11 at 01:57 PM

Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tough Week

It’s date night and if ever I needed one this is it. The stress of the last few days has been off the scale. I just took Sasquatch out for his last walk of the night and when I reached up to get his harness and leash, there was no other leash. For the first time in nine years we have only one dog. It was one of those moments, that make you pause, and your chest gets tight for a moment not like you’re going to cry, but just a moment to begin to deal with the loss.

During all this crisis Jon and I have continued to work on the comic of THE LAUGHING CORPSE. There have been roughs, colors, solicite text, wips (works in progress) and covers to look over. There’s been flap copy for DIVINE MISDEMEANORS, the next Merry book which I’m supposed to be writing, but I admit that was hard to do during the last few days. I finally realized I’m jealous of Merry. Jealous of my own creation. Not for the sex and all the men, after these last few days I think if I had to take care of that many people I’d lose what’s left of my patience, and my temper. Merry has so much help. She has so many hands on deck to take care of everything, anything, and though I have staff, and good staff, it’s real life. In fiction, on the page I can make certain that the people around Merry know exactly what to do, and how to do it. I get rewrites, and second or thirty-fifth chances to get it juuust right.

In real life you seldom get second chances let alone third, or more. In real life you stumble through trying to make the right decisions, trying to protect the people and animals you love, trying to work and make deadlines, and there are still meals to eat, appointments to keep, demands to be met, even when there’s blood being cleaned off your kitchen floor life goes strangely on.

Now Merry’s life isn’t perfect, and some of the people around her are not making her life easier, but the majority of them are, but in real life I find that is seldom true. In real life you have people that are supposed to be helping you being just the opposite of helpful. There are moments when I feel quite beaten down with trying to take care of everyone, myself included. This week has been a test of many things, some things have broken and will never be repaired. Sasquatch’s eye is gone. He’s being a good sport about it, but it’s not fixable. It is, what it is. Pippin is gone from our house forever, and though he’s in a great foster home with a great family, he’s no longer ours.

Jon, Trinity, and I picked up Sasquatch from the vet together, as a family. Trinity is already wrangling for another dog. Jon told her, "Just don’t bring it up until we do, okay?" She agreed.

I tried to explain how tired we were, how emotionally used up. "While you’ve had as calm a few days as we could give you. Daddy and I have been working really hard to find Pip a new home, and take care of Sasquatch."

She was quiet for a moment, then said, "I’m sorry it’s been hard on you guys."

Jon said, "That’s what parents do. We take care of things and try to keep you out of the worst of it."

I had an ah-ha moment. "My grandmother didn’t do that, except about money, everything else she told me. She made me share all of the scary stuff, the hard stuff, of being a grown-up, but with none of the power or choice. No wonder I hated being a child."

Jon said, "It’s like being an adult but with none of the perks, and you didn’t get to be a child either."

"No," I said, "not really."

It was one of those moments when my own childhood rearranged itself in my head and I realized that I protected my daughter from so many things that my grandmother hadn’t seen fit to protect me from. She was all alone and I was all she had, so she turned to me in ways that were probably not great for me. But if the proof of success is in the success of the child then she did all right. I’ve done well as they used to say. The trick is did I succeed because of, or in spite of, and the truth is something of both.

Now off to date night and some of those perks of being an adult. I’ve had enough of the downside of being a grown-up I’m way past ready for some upside.

Posted by LKH on 08/27 at 09:51 PM

Thursday, September 24, 2009
Working with Your Muse

What is a muse? What is your personal muse? Goddesses? Fairies? A part of your own brain that only seems to have a life of its own? Is the muse simply inspriation? I’ll let you decide for yourself on that part of it, but tonight I’ll write about things I do to coax my muse, or maybe to coax me. I’ve had the muse hot and bothered when I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, so my muse and I take turns coercing each other.

My muse runs on caffeine, or at least hot liquids. When I was first starting out it was coca-cola, cold and straight up. But for most of my published career its been hot tea, or hotter coffee. I found that caffeine free coffee and tea works but I prefer caffieneated. Hot liquid seems to be the winner for me and my muse to function. A good straight oolong, or monkey picked oolong, or English breakfast is usually the first choice. I’ll do jasmine in a green, or some of the roasted rice flavored greens, but straight green still tastes like I’m trying to eat fresh lawn clippings. Not my favorite. I honestly don’t drink coffee until the wether gets cold or I’m having trouble staying in the mindset for an Anita book. The very smell of coffee helps me get into her head and her world.

Yesterday I got like 5 pgs in the morning so the majority of the 16 pgs was done in the afternoon. Now, I don’t normally do two sessions on the same project, but the deadline has hit crunch time so its become an evil neceissty. How did I coax more pages out of my muse and me? On days when I don’t feel like writing, at all, I get out the fine bone china tea sets complete with cups and saucers. I will admit that my favorite tea set is based on the Brambly Hedge children’s books. Yes, dressed up mice. The tea pot is beautiful and the cups and matching saucers each do a different season. Favorite seasons autumn and winter. I got out the autumn tea cup and saucer yesterday and it helped me feel better. It simply makes me smile and has for over fifteen years which is how long I’ve had the tea set. I bought it when I could barely afford it, and I’ve never regretted the purchase.

Are you weirded out that my favorite tea set has mice in Victorian clothes painted on it? More so that I can write Merry and Anita while drinking out of fine bone china? I don’t question what helps me work, I just make a note and repeat. It’s all about figuring out what helps you create.

My muse really does run on music. I have never written to silence since I got out of my grandmother’s house and was allowed music and privacy. My first book was written to Motzart. The soundtrack to "Amedueus" to be exact. I think I discovered Depeche Mode next, then U2, and INXS. I wrote my first several Anita books to those three bands. When I first started writing Anita the books averaged 450 to 550 page count and I would play that one album over and over until by the end of the book I wouldn’t be able to stand to hear that music again. It used to take me months, or years, to listen to music I wrote a book to and then the books got longer. Much over 550 and one album begins to grow stale before I’m done, so I’d have to change in the middle of the book, or near the end. The album I finished to was often the same album I would start the next book to, if it was in the same series that is, I try to change music between series. It just helps my muse know we’ve shifted gears.

The iPod has been a wonderful invention for me because I can put hundreds of songs on it and play them in a cycle so that I don’t grow tired of any one band, or singer. So I get to keep my favorite music just to enjoy between books. Favorite bands right now are Drowning Pool, Disturbed, The Fray, Flaw, Drain STH (though its attached to a particular book and I still can’t really enjoy them yet. it’s too soon). I went through a girl singer period at the beginning of writing Merry and for Anita, too. They both write pretty well to Tori Amos, but Merry is more Sarah McLaughlin and Sheryl Crow. Merry seems to really like She Wants Revenge. Though some songs remind me more of Anita, apparently my muse thinks they remind her of Merry. I try not to argue with my Muse, because I will lose.

On days when the writing is going badly I shift to musicals. I will pick a musical for a book, but I usually don’t have to listen to it often enough to grow sick of the musicals, and if I do it means its been a damned hard book to write. Last Anita book I think it was "1776". Last Merry book I believe was "Mary Poppins" but I’m not a hundred percent certain of that. I know that the musical for this Merry book, DIVINE MISDEMEANORS seems to be "Thoroughly Modern Millie" the Broadway cast. I’ve written to "Hairspray" "Jekyll" "The Secret Garden" "Sunday in the Park with George" "Into the Woods" "Gigi" "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" "Once Upon a Mattress" Rogers and Hammerstien’s "Cinderella" "The Music Man" and more. But you get the idea. I don’t know why musicals will get me past a block in my creative process, but I know that it works for me, and again if it works I don’t question it.

On days when the writing is going really, really badly I do Christmas music. Yes, you read that right. I’ve written to a Dean Martin Christmas Album, Bing Crosby, the entire Rat Pack, Sinatra on his own, but I tend to like Dean Martin best of those. Yes, I know that Bing Crosby is not part of the Rat Pack. I really like the first two Excelsis albums because what goes better together than Goth and the holidays. Mmm-mmm-good. Not as fond of the third Excelsis album though. I love "A Very Scary Solstice" and "An Even Scarier Solstice" from the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society. Traditional carols done with Lovecraft’s world in mind. What’s not to love with songs like, "Have Yourself a Scary Little Solstice" "It’s the Most Horrible Time of the Year" "I Saw Mommy Kissing Yog-Sothoth" or "Little Rare Book Room" "All I Want for Solstice Is My Sanity" "Harley Got Devoured by the Undead". Ahh, the holidays.

I’ll also go on a kick for a particular carol and then Jon gets to score the internet for different versions of it and make me a CD. I’ve done that with "Carol of the Bells" and "Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow."

Weirdest holiday music I’ve ever written a Merry book to has got to be "The Veggie Tales Christmas Album". Yep, that’s what I wrote a Merry book to, so think about that as you’re reading those yummy sex scenes. I wrote some of them to singing and talking vegetables talking about Jesus’ birthday. Yes, I am just that sick.

My Muse and I write better in rooms with pastel blue, or green walls. My bedroom as a child was blue, so that explains it. My first stories were written with walls that color, but why pale green? No idea, but I discovered that when my first husband would take me with him to a hobby store he liked and I didn’t. So I had nothing to do for hours but sit in the corner and scribble in my notebook. For some reason those awful pale green walls just made my Muse explode. I wrote copious pages in that place. People are sensitive to color, so find out what color works for you and paint your room, or at least the wall you stare at when you write that color. Don’t be ashamed if its a pastel, just embrace your muse and paint that wall.

When no music, no color, no hot beverage works, my Muse and I go out to work. I’ve written Anita books at Red Lobster (before my shellfish allergy manifested). I’ve written several books at St. Louis Bread Co. A lot of OBSIDIAN BUTTERFLY, Anita book #9 was written there. I have no idea why I like to write at the Bread Co (Panera in your part of the country) but again don’t question your Muse, just pay attention to her. I will admit when they painted their walls this orangey yellowy color it threw me off but its still a good place to go. You can eat, drink something, stake out a table. I take my Bose sound dampening headphones and my iPod and I write. I haven’t worked out like that in years. I love my new office. Though if I have another day like today I may try it. Though instead of long hand in a notebook I take a portable computer and have since about book 9 of Anita. I love writing on computer. So easy to fix things, so much better than typing which is how I did my first short stories.

In future blogs about writing I’ll talk about other things my Muse and I like. Sticky notes, windows vs walls, what to put on your desk and what to keep away from it, quotes, perfectionism, and my writer’s notebook, but tonight my Muse and I are retiring to a hot bath. Happy Writing Everyone, be careful out there, or should I say, be careful in there. A writer’s mind can be a very scary place. Or maybe that’s just mine?


Posted by LKH on 09/24 at 08:20 PM

Divine Misdemeanors, who’s first chapter is up on our website, is the next Meredith Gentry book. It hits the shelves December 8th 2009! Merry is back in L. A. with Doyle, and Frost, Rhys and Galen, Sholto and Mistral, and all the gang. We also have her back working at Grey’s Detective Agency, because even a fairie princess needs to earn a living.

Flirt that comes out February 2nd 2010, is an Anita Blake novel, but its a surprise book. I got the initial idea, and it was a new idea for Anita. Now I get ideas for Anita all the time, but ideas that become books usually take months, or years to make their way to the front of the que of novel ideas. This idea hit me and I was writing it as a novel only two weeks, or so later. Very unusual for me. The last time something close to this happened it was the book Micah, but I still to this day can’t tell you where that idea came from. So the seed of the idea must have been incubating for months, or years, before it burst onto my subconscious, and then hit my conscious mind right between the eyes. Flirt wrote as quickly as Micah, but with Flirt I knew exactly where the idea had originated. I made a note, because one of the most common questions I get is, "Where do I get my ideas?" So I kept notes. Where and when and how I got the idea for the novel. The process of writing it from page count, to how it overwhelmed my muse and me and interrupted another book. I kept track of the music I listened to while writing it. As much as possible I kept track of things I normally don’t keep track of, and I wrote it down in a piece in the back of the book. You get Flirt, an extra Anita book, and I do my best to answer the question about my ideas, and how I turn them into books. I also make the point that two different artists can have the same inspiration, but come away with completely different ideas. It is shorter than the normal Anita book, but Divine Misdemeanors is bigger than the last two Merry novels, so it was Merry’s turn to have the bigger book.

Then, in June, is our regularly scheduled Anita Blake novel, Bullet. That’s still in the works, the other two are done-done.

Still confused? Put it this way, Flirt was a side project that I thought I’d just do a few pages, get it out of my system and then I’d get back to my scheduled book. Instead, I ended up with a book in a near record time for me. I presented my publisher with a surprise book with Anita and the gang. I don’t know who was more surprised me, or my publisher. So, you guys get two Anita books next year one that tries to help answer that proverbial writer question, "Where do you get your ideas?" and the other that just kicks ass and takes names. Though Flirt does that, too. It is me afterall. In fact, for all those who have been wanting to see more of Anita raising the dead, you get your wish. For those who want to see Anita up close and personal, well there’s that, too.

In fact, Divine Misdemeanors is also one of the most hard edged Merry books to date. There’s plenty of sex, so be warned if that’s not your cup of tea, but its a mystery. We set that up in the first chapter and that is the spine of the book. Who done it? What done it? How done it? And can we solve the murders without Merry, or the men she loves, paying the ultimate price?

There, that answers the questions I’ve been getting, or at least I think it does. I’m sure some of you will let me know if its still unlcear.

Nightmare woke me at 3AM. One of those dreams that drives you from the bed into the bathroom so you can turn on a light and not wake your sweetheart who is blissfully sleeping. Light helped, as it always seems to, but the nightmare didn’t vanish into the haze of brightness. It clung to the inside of my head. I made some notes in my notebook hoping to get the bad thoughts out and down on paper, which is one of the reasons I so seldom have nightmares. I write my nightmares out, so there’s no need to dream them. I did everything I usually do to dissipate a bad dream and then I went back to bed.

I crawled in beside Jonathon. He curled around me in his sleep, nestling against me as automatically as he would draw covers around himself if he were cold. I expected to fall back asleep, but I didn’t. I lay there cuddled and warm with his breath soft against the back of my neck, but the nightmare was still in my head. Every time I started to drift off I’d be thrown right back where the nightmare ended last. By 5AM the tears started, silent, just tears, no sounds, no sobs, just tears that I couldn’t seem to stop and wasn’t sure why they were even happening. It was a bad dream, a stupid bad dream. I don’t usually have this kind of reaction to them.

I woke Jonathon up enough to let him know I was giving up on sleep and by 6AM I was in the bathroom, but I’d given up on quieting my mind for more sleep, I was just going to try to relax and get my mind on nicer things. I entertained myself until about 7:30AM and this included a long, hot bath complete with candles and scented bath salts. It’s usually a guaranteed mood lifter for me, and it did help. But I sit here typing this and my mood is not light.

I am dreading sitting down at the computer because yesterday’s pages ended with people my main character and I care about dead, and injured. It is a sad scene to go back to this aftermath. The only scene that I may need to put in earlier is no longer a happy scene, because like an overly omnipresent Deity I know now that the happy won’t last. So I either put in a scene that seems happy and know that soon it will all go horribly wrong, or I carry forward and deal with the emotional and physical aftermath of the battlefield. Anita and I are both tired of death.

It isn’t just my imaginary friend’s tradgedy, but where I had to go internally to write the scene and do it justice. To write about death I go to places where I’ve experienced it. I go that moment when someone I loved has died, and I remember how it feels. I dredge it up and I spread it on the paper. It isn’t as horrible as the first time I felt it, but the memories, the tactile, sensory memories are the worse. The smoothness of my mother’s coffin, the sweet clove scent of the pink carnations on her casket. The dogs that I’ve lost. The ones that I’ve been able to cuddle and hold while still warm, and real, before death does more than make them loose and somehow boneless in a way that sleep never does. The ones that we didn’t find that soon, so that the bodies were stiff and cold and didn’t feel real, though I knew it was. I know I never want to hold a person I love as I’ve held pets once rigor has set in and they are a caricature of themselves. I have dug enough graves in my life, and stood at enough gravesides, for this lifetime, but what makes it especially poignant is that I know with certainty I have not seen my last funeral, my last coffin, my last grief.

Anita has helped me understand that the need for vengeance is real, but ultimately unsatisfying. Because revenge only makes you feel better momentarily and then you have slain the monster that made you hurt, but the person you care about is still gone. If revenge could bring them back, or take the grief away, it would be so worth it. It can leave us with a sense of rightness, justification, but in the end there is sorrow and wondering how we got here and how we could have kept all the bad things from happening? The questioning will start as soon as the numbness goes. I have a day ahead where Anita will question herself, her motives, and she will both doubt herself, and find a renewed sense of ruthlessness. Revenge in the end is useless, but preventative violence, violence to keep those we love safe, now that’s something Anita and I both can get behind.

people my main character and I care about dead, and injured