On Not Following Protocol or Systems or For That Matter, Anything

I am my own worst enemy. This is true when it comes to writing or living. I cannot follow a system to save my own life. I come up with brilliant ideas that will make my writing easier or more organized or better and then I don’t follow them.

I was reminded of this earlier today when I posted on my Facebook group page about journaling and my technique of indexing journals so I can mine the pages for information. But then I remembered that usually about halfway through a journal I forget to add topics to the index and another few pages later I’m forgetting to number them.

I’ve taught classes on the importance of prepping before writing a novel but the last one I wrote I just launched into without much. (And ended up rewriting it a million times. I should follow my own advice.) Because, of course, every time I start a new novel, I do it differently.

I love putting information on index cards. Until I don’t. Then I love putting it on Evernote. Until I don’t. Then I decide everything should go into binders. Until that becomes too much trouble. Then I switch to file folders. Until I decide I hate that. And the process starts over again.

I’ve been known to buy numerous planners every year. I find one that is going to finally get me organized forever and ever and a month later I hate it and buy a new one.  And that usually happens about 3 or 4 times. Unfortunately for the planner industry, I’ve finally gone digital and use my phone calendar.

And then there’s the whole bullet journal thing.  I tried it once with great success, never to be duplicated again. And now I look at all the elaborate pages people make and I wonder how in the hell they ever do anything but journal.

I have five thousand icons on my desktop because if I file any of them away I’ll never find them again. I decide to get systematic and make folders for everything and then I use names that I can’t remember and so I make a new folder.

I start out the week making a to-do list in the spiral I keep by my computer for notes. But then I turn the page because I have to use a new page for my brilliant idea that just occurred. And then I make notes about the novel I’m working on. And by the middle of the week, my to-do list is buried so I grab a sticky note to write on. By the end of the week my desk is covered in sticky notes, so, of course, I grab a piece of scrap paper and write a new list.

It is kind of a miracle that I ever get anything done. But I do. I’m not sure how.

Do you have any organizing foibles? Please, please share them with me in the comments. It will make me feel better about myself.

Photo from everystockphoto.

Starting is Often the Hardest Part of Writing

Its hard to get started

Starting is the hardest part of writing.

It’s hard when you are a newbie, terrified of the blank page in front of you, that you might not have any worthwhile words to put on it, or that you don’t even know how.

Starting is hard when you are a seasoned writer, with thousands or even millions of words under your belt, for, amazingly enough, the exact same reasons as when you are a newbie.

It is hard when you’re at the start of a writing project, it’s hard when you’re in the middle, and it is hard when you’re nearing the end.

Why is it getting started so damn hard? And what can be done about it?

I don’t know the answer to the first question. Why should it be so hard to get started putting words on the page?  I suspect it might have something everything to do with fear, though even that doesn’t make a lot of sense because: there you are writing, and nobody has to see what you’re working on until you choose to let them.

So what’s the big deal? Why is it possible that every other chore, not matter how trivial,  can take precedence over your writing? How the stupidest of internet articles can suddenly seem like the most vital of things to read when you’re confronted by the blank page?

Maybe it is the fear you’ll get lost. Lost in the wonder of creating a story, lost in another world, gone far beyond the boundaries of your current reality. Which is what writing does for us, right?

Anyway, we could debate the whys all day, but long ago I learned that sometimes there is no why and it is fruitless to waste time trying to figure it out. The more helpful route is to learn what can be done.

How to make starting easier.

The tried and somewhat tired advice is to tell yourself all you have to do is work for 15 minutes. Or 10. Or 5. The theory being that once you start, you’ll get absorbed and go much longer. And this is, indeed, true. But it still doesn’t get you off the internet and working on your writing.

There has to be a spark that propels you there eagerly. Or at least dutifully. Or you’ll never start those first few minutes, right? I have some suggestions, and most of them are what I call foundational work–the kind that creates a backdrop of energy and excitement for the work, so that instead of stalling, you can’t wait to get started.

Know where you’re going. If there is any one thing that will help you get started, it is knowing where you are going. If you don’t know where to go next in your writing, you’ll wander before you even get to the page. How to make sure this happens? Make notes when you end your previous writing session so you know what’s up next. If you get to a place where you don’t know (this happens), take time to write notes or a journal entry to figure it out. Because this will lead you to:

Power of momentum.  The magic “M” word.  Can’t beat it. Once you get momentum, you are off and running, baby. You leave off your writing session sadly and can’t wait to start again next time. Which is what we freaking want. Momentum happens when you are writing regularly. Which is why every writing instructor on the planet encourages you to do so.

Follow the juice.  Go where the energy of the session takes you. Maybe you’re all excited about writing the wedding scene, but the funeral scene comes next and you are a strict chronological writer.  Don’t force yourself to write what you think you should.  Follow your excitement. (For the record, I have a hard time doing this, but I’m always pleased with the results when I do.)

Write everywhere in the piece.  I often take sketchy notes in the body of the file for the next scene. These may cover a lot of ground.  Similar to the above point, it can be tempting to force yourself to start at the beginning and trudge along. But you don’t have to–read your notes and start where you know what to write. It may be the middle of the scene, but who cares?

Write around the work regularly. By writing around, I mean taking notes and journaling about your work in progress. I could not write anything without doing this. I am constantly making notes to remind myself and using journal entries to figure out plot and character ideas. When I’m in the thick of it, as I was yesterday working on my rewrite, my desk is covered in sticky  notes. Come to think of it, I couldn’t work without sticky notes, either.

Okay, those are my thoughts on starting. Got any others to add to the mix? Leave a comment!

How To Get Obsessed

Writing, like so many creative endeavors, is a strange gig. We writers do everything we can to avoid working on our projects, but then when we finally get to it, we don’t want to stop. While in many arenas, obsession is not considered a good thing, we creatives tend to cultivate it. I’ve recently written about the strange paradox that the more you do of something, the more you want to do and can do.  Which leads to…dum dum de dum….obsession. So here’s a handy guide on how to make it happen. (And let it be known, I’m talking about the good kind of obsession here.)

How to Get Obsessed

Make a commitment to your work and then follow through on it. I know no better way than this to get obsessed. Go to the page every day, or as often as you can, and you’ll find yourself gaining momentum.  So often, you find what you need in the writing itself. You may not think you know where the scene is going, but once you start writing, it shows you. But you won’t find it if you don’t sit down to the page. So do it, even when you aren’t inspired. Pretty soon you’ll find yourself obsessed. You’ll be thinking about your work all the time.  Using every few spare minutes to work on it. Coming up with brilliant ideas right and left.

Why You Want To

Because there is no better feeling on earth than that which you get from working steadily on a creative project. Have you ever focused intently on your writing, and after your session felt like you were in love with everything in the world? That’s the writer’s high that you get when you’ve got momentum in your work. When I’m on a roll like this, everything in my life works better. I smile at the cranky grocery store check-out clerk and let all the negativities of the day slide off me.  All the things on my to-do list get done–because I’m so happy I don’t mind doing them.

How to Get Un-obsessed

Okay, honestly, being obsessed with your work all the time is not the best state of being. For a couple of reasons: first, you need to get out from behind the computer to experience life so that you have second to write about. (In other words, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Or Jackie a dull girl.) And second, that old myth about the tortured writing staying up all night to work ends up with said writer collapsing and then not being able to write for another month. So the key is to get a steady burn going. Step by step we travel far, as my Mom always said.

It’s a good idea to take breaks often. And by breaks I mean intentional breaks. Not lollygagging across the internet, but doing an activity that means something to do you. That will refresh you. And for God’s sake get up from you chair and walk and stretch once in awhile. (Which I have a difficult time with, partly because of pain in my knee.)

And also, know that at some point, your obsession will end. It just will. That’s part of the creative cycle. You can’t go full out all the time, and nor do you want to (see first paragraph in this section.) If you’ve suddenly lost the urge to write, maybe your brain just needs a break. Listen to it and give it one.

Are you obsessed with your writing? Leave a comment or discuss on the Facebook page.

Photo from everystockphoto.

Spring Cleaning Your Writing

It’s sunny and warm in Portland, and there’s no better place on earth when such is the case. (People visit here in spring or summer, fall in love and move. Then the fall and winter rains set in. Rah roh.)

This year, more than any I can remember recently, I’m feeling very spring-y. Maybe it is because I spent a month in France earlier this year (seems like a distant memory now), or because there are so many ongoing changes in my life. But whatever it is, I’m feeling like shaking the cobwebs out of my house, my brain, and my writing. Time for a refresh!

Here are some things I’ve been thinking about cleaning up:

Mindset. This word is becoming cliched, which is too bad, because I like it. Wave the word under my nose and I’ll follow you anywhere. Maybe because I’ve always believed how important it is to maintain a positive mindset, even if I can’t always do it. Things I’m looking at: Am I constantly complaining about how little time I have to write, or actually sitting down and getting to it when I do have a few minutes? Am I fretting about how “good” I am or am not? am I complaining about how hard it is to complete this rewrite? I need to pay attention to the crap my brain spews at me and change it to a more positive message. I’m reading a book called Train Your Brain that talks about this. There’s not a lot new in it, but she explains it in a simple, logical manner. I like.

Process. Remember how glorious it was, when first you started writing, to get so absorbed in your work that time passed and you had no sense of it going by? Yeah, me, too. That feeling is why so many of us write. And it is really easy to get led away from it. Happens like this: you start obsessing over every word and sentence, polishing your prose relentlessly before you move onto a new scene. Uh-uh. There’s a process to follow for your writing and it goes like this.

–Write a discovery/rough/first draft. Make it crappy. You won’t have to try too hard to do this, because it will be crappy. Discovery drafts are. That’s why there are called that. You’re learning the story and getting it down on the page.

–Rewrite the draft. Go back over it, ponder, rearrange, deepen characters, makes sure your plot is working, look at theme, and then write a second draft.

–Rewrite again. And again. And again–for as long as it takes.

–Revise. When your characters and plot and everything else is working, then you can start polishing.

So take a look at where you are in the writing process and clean it up. Are you writing a discovery draft, but toiling over every line? Cut it out. Write fast. Get that story on the page. Are you ready to revise (see below) but still tinkering with character motivation and arc? You need to go back to rewriting.

Polishing. Remember that you need to wait to do this until the final run-through! Though one caveat is if you know you use too many adverbs, you can start being aware of that as you write. But no obsessing! Here are some things you might want to pay attention to:

–Strong verbs. Are you using them? Or reverting to the same old, same old variants of “to be?” The blog post I wrote on this years ago is still one of my most popular ever, so I think it is something we all struggle with. But also something worth spending time on.

–Adverbs. Gotta love ’em. I do. And I use them way too much. There is a place for the use of adverbs, there really is, but the key concept is to use them judiciously. That way they will have some oomph and impact.

–Sentence structure. Make sure yours is varied, for one thing. Nothing is more monotonous than reading the same sentence structure over and over again. And, also consider shortening up those babies. Here’s a great blog post that explains more.

Reading. I’ve been trying to spend more time reading books and less time on the internet, reading forgettable articles. Besides Train Your Brain, mentioned above, I’m finally getting around to reading A Gentleman in Moscow, which I highly recommend. There’s a satisfaction in sinking into a novel or memoir that you just don’t get from quick hits on the interwebs.

Foundation Rituals. All the “boring” stuff, like meditation, exercise, eating healthfully, getting enough sleep. Yada, yada, yada. You’ve heard it all before a million times and so have I. (And I’ve written about it.) But these things really do make a difference. And at this time of year, it is easy to get re-inspired to walk more and eat all the seasonal produce that is coming into markets. Right?

So, that’s the spring cleaning I’m thinking about. How about you? Leave a comment and tell me how you’re cleaning up your writing! And if, in all this cleaning, you realize you might need a little help with your writing, maybe I can help. Hit me up and let’s chat about your work.

Photos from everystockphoto. 

The Usefulness of Thinking Small (In Writing and Life)

I’m a big picture thinker. This is helpful when writing a novel, in which you need to keep an entire story arc in your mind. And it is great when you are planning your weekly schedule. But it can be overwhelming when you are trying to get words on the page. I start out writing a scene for Chapter Two, then realize how it connects to something that is going to happen in Chapter Ten and then the whole arc from two to ten is in my mind. And then it is hard to get back to focusing on the scene at hand.

A big picture

Does this sound familiar? I can’t see the trees for the forest! I’m always skipping ahead to what’s coming next. (And, ahem, when I think about it, I do this in life, too.  During a writing session, I’m constantly aware of when I’ll need to stop to start the rest of the day.  In the car, I’m thinking about what I need to do when I get home. This is one reason why meditation is so helpful for me.)

And lately, working on a rewrite of my current novel, in which I have to drop certain bits in and keep track of them, I’m driving myself crazy. I have a long list of scenes and instructions for fixing them, but I look at it and my eyes glaze over. I can’t find a way in.

But I’ve found something that is helping me and it is thinking small.

I’ve not reread the Anne Lamott book Bird by Bird in years, but there’s a part of it that has stuck with me.  She talks about how she keeps a tiny blank picture frame by her computer and when she gets overwhelmed, she holds that picture frame up to the monitor to remind herself that all she has to focus on is that tiny, tiny bit she can see through the frame.

And that’s what I need to remind myself of, over and over again. One way I’ve learned to do it is with index cards. Love those little guys, especially the smaller ones (3 x 5) that come in colors. (Yes, you could color code them, but I have such a right brain that I start out sorting them by color and then completely lose track.) For the rewrite, I’ve put one chapter on each card and then I can add notes to it as I need to.

Yes, I know, this is not revolutionary. Some of you have probably been doing this for years. And I have tried, but it has never worked for me before. (Which leads to another rule of writing–what works for you today might not work tomorrow. Doesn’t matter. Do what works in the moment!) But now it is enabling me to focus on one chapter at a time by containing everything to one small card.

This idea is helping me in life, too. As in, knitting. Have you ever seen a long page of knitting instructions, complete with abbreviations and lots of numbers? They are enough to make my poor brain explode with angst.  But now I copy just a few lines of instruction at a time onto an index card. And that’s all I have to focus on until I get to the end of that card.

Boo-yah. Knitting stress solved.

So, if you’re struggling with overwhelm, or big picture fatigue, try stopping things down. Experiment with the index cards. Or maybe post-it notes! Or maybe something completely different that only you have thought of! (If so, please share it with us here!)

By the way, I have room for a couple people on my coaching roster. Are you struggling with any aspect of your writing? I can help! Contact me and we’ll chat about it.

This post contains an affiliate link. Photo from everystockphoto.

Write It Imperfectly, Do It Imperfectly

I was meditating this morning. My legs twitched. I was antsy in my seat. My eyebrow itched and finally I succumbed and scratched it. My back tingled. All these things took my attention away from my mantra–Hum Sah.   And then I started thinking about emails I needed to write and work I had to complete.

I was meditating imperfectly. VERY imperfectly. But, I consoled myself, at least I was doing it. Meditating imperfectly is better than not meditating at all. So, too, with exercise, right? And cooking, and gardening. And–you knew it was coming–writing.

It is important to let yourself write imperfectly. You know this. I know this. But do we remember it when we are writing? Do we let our fingers race across the keyboard, not worrying about how “good” the words are? Or do we stop and obsess about what should come next? What sounds right. What our readers, or agent, or editor will think when they read it?

I do that far too often. Hmm, let me think–maybe I even did it this morning when I convinced myself that one aspect of my character’s backstory had to be figured out in excruciating detail before I could go any farther. When I stepped away from the computer, I realized that wasn’t true at all.  I just needed to write it imperfectly–and then come back and fix it later.

Your job as a writer is to put words on the page. Period. They don’t have to be perfect words. They don’t even have to be good.  The only requirement is that the words come out of your head, through your fingers, and onto the page. Period.

Simple, right? And oh so hard. Just remember–imperfection is your friend. Put it on a post-it next to your computer: IMPERFECTION IS YOUR FRIEND. And remember this in the rest of your life as well.

Let me know how that works out for you, will you? Leave a comment!

Letting Go of Words, Work, and Writing

A friend wrote from Mexico last week. She said she was having a hard time letting go of the words she was writing.  There were sentences she liked in her essay and she didn’t want to delete them.  She suggested this might be something I’d like to write about.

And she was right. Letting go is one of my favorite topics.

I myself am not terribly good at letting go. You might even say I have a hard time with it. I carry extra weight. My house holds extra clutter. My brain is full of chattering monkeys at any given hour of the day.  And yet I’ve had the glorious experience twice in my life of spontaneously letting go of something that had been bothering me. 

The freedom, lightness, and expansion that follows is astounding. In the aftermath of the letting go, you just don’t care. And not in a bad way. In a deeply peaceful way. You’re certain that whatever is to happen will be what is supposed to be.

How did it happen?How did I achieve this amazing state?  Beats me. I’ve tried to replicate it many times. And, of course, the essence of letting go is elusive like that. The more you try to force it, the less likely it is to happen. So while I’ve not been able to exactly reproduce these wonderful experiences, I’ve come up with some ways to at least deal with them. And I will talk about those as they relate to writing.

Letting go of words, as in the situation my friend wrote me about.  You like those words you put on the page, damnit! And you don’t want to get rid of them.  The antidote: create a hold file, into which you carefully copy and paste those precious words and sentences. I do this for every project. And I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually gone back to the file and extracted something I’ve deleted. But it makes me feel better to know I’m not just flinging them to the winds of cyberspace.

–Letting go of negative self-talk, the kind that can keep us from the page and/or keep us from expressing ourselves once we get there. The antidote: well, this is a lifelong quest, so I don’t have one all-purpose answer. But I do have some suggestions. Meditation helps a lot. A lot lot.  Exercise helps, as does EFT (tapping) or any kind of work that helps you get out of your brain and frees you up to put words onto the page.

–Letting go of the actual work, as when it is time to submit to an agent or editor. The antidote: you just have to grit your teeth and do it.  Sorry.

Really, all three of these types of letting go are practices that we writers need to do over and over again So you might as well get used to the process. Oh, and if you’d like to read more about letting go in general, I found this article to be helpful.

Are you good at letting go? Or bad at it, like me? How does it affect your writing? Please leave a comment!

Photo from everystockphoto. I found a crow picture in honor of the crow who lives in the house behind me here in Ceret. You can see his photo here and here.

The Haze of Writing Forgetfulness

My view as I write each day

We arrived here in France two weeks and three days ago. Since then, I’ve written ten chapters on a new novel at a pretty good clip. Except for the two days last weekend when I stalled myself out.

I’d written up to the point I had outlined. And then realized that several other scenes needed to be inserted before that point. Which meant much rearranging and figuring and deep thinking.  Which eventually turned into procrastinating, otherwise known as forgetting all the advice I consistently give in workshops and to coaching clients.  Because I’d decided what scenes I needed to write. I was just having a hard time actually writing them.

And what is that advice about writing that I consistently dish out? It is quite simple: get thee to the page and write. Just freaking write. Don’t worry about making it pretty. Don’t worry about having it make sense. Just write. We are way past the age of typewriters, and rewriting is easy–that’s what God made computers for. And spell and grammar check. Getting something, anything on the page gives you a basis on which to build a draft.

I know that. And generally, I follow it. Knocking out ten chapters at a fast pace is proof, right?

But then I got myself blocked. And I forgot. Literally, forgot.

The pet crow who lives behind me

It wasn’t a matter of not walking my talk. It was that, in the moment of facing the page, I totally forgot. There was  a gray concrete wall in my brain between the idea to write fast and get something–anything–on the page, and the act of doing it. And instead I fiddled. And thought I had to have everything all figured out before I wrote the scene. Told myself I was stuck. Ate a piece of chocolate. Stood up and went looking for the pet crow who lives in the house behind me.

The funny thing is, I’m surrounded by writers here at the retreat who are following my advice. Who are busting out the pages, even though it goes against their usual grain of carefully rewriting and revising as they go. So I should have remembered. But I forgot.

I offer this as a cautionary tale, because your brain, too, might play tricks like this on you. Fortunately, in a desire not to squander my time here in France, I have come to my senses and started throwing words on the page once again.

And I remembered another truth, which builds on the first one: the things you need to know will come to you as you write. Yes, I believe in planning ahead. But some things just reveal themselves to you on the page, plain and simple. And if you’re stuck, the best advice is to start writing.

I do not know why it is so hard to remember this. But I will do my best not to forget again.

Does this happen to you?  Please leave a comment and discuss.

And, by the way, are you interested in coming to this wonderful part of France for a writing workshop? We have space in our September events in Collioure! Take a look and email me if you have any questions.

All the Different Ways to Write (A Post on Process)

I’m sitting at a table on a terrace in Ceret, France, thinking about writing processes. (That’s my view in the photo to the left.) Okay, I’m also thinking about the wine and cheese and bread we’ll have for dinner. And taking a walk through the charming town in a little bit. And the delicious quiche and salad I ate for lunch in said charming town.  Oh, and I’m thinking about my WIP, too. Proof is that I’ve written five chapters since I arrived here on March 3rd.

One of the reasons I’m thinking about process is because I read and enjoyed this post today. I love reading about people’s specific processes. The other reason is that I’m here amidst other writers, all of us trying our best to make great progress on our projects.  And it is fascinating to get a close-up view of how other’s work.

Here are some of the different ways to write:

Planner vs pantser.  Do you plan everything ahead or just go where the writing winds take  you? You’ll find strong and vocal adherents to both way. And, just as many like me who fall somewhere in the middle. I really, really, really need to know where I’m going next or I will wander off and read knitting blogs instead of writing. But I write what I call a loose outline, which is really more of a list, and allow the story and characters to develop as I go.

–Chronological or all over the place. I, with few exceptions, write in strict chronological order. I like to allow my chapters and scenes to build on each other. But I know plenty of people for whom this would be torture. They want to write whatever scene feels the juiciest to them in the moment.

–Write fast or edit as you go. I am of the write-as-fast-as-I-damn-can persuasion. And then I fix things in subsequent drafts. Often, I am convinced that what I am writing is pure crap. And sometimes it is. But just as often, I’m surprised by what I’ve put on the page. It needs work, yes, but it is not as bad as I’ve thought. A couple of writers here on the retreat are pushing to get to the end of first drafts and doing the write fast thing for the first time. It’s a bit uncomfortable for them but they are doing it!

–Marathoner or sprinter. Do you write in bursts and then take breaks? You’re a sprinter. Or do you sit down to write and only hours later stand up, realizing how much time has passed? Marathoner.

–Scrivener or Word. I really, really, really, want to like Scrivener but every time I try it I get so confused I give up. Once it ate my draft, too. And that’s just rude. So we’ve not yet become pals. So I’m a Word girl myself. And I do know that Scrivener has many rabid fans out there. I need one of you to sit down with me, hold my hand, and teach me how to use it.

–All one file or separate ones.  When you’re working on a long project, such as a novel or memoir, do you put it all in one large file, or create a new one for each chapter and compile later? (And yes, I know there’s “easy” ways to deal with this on Scrivener. But you’ll have to come show me.) I’ve done it both ways. I’m having a brain fart, but I’m pretty sure the last novel I wrote was all in one. The new one is in separate files. It’s a pain to go back and check things in previous chapters, but then so is scrolling and scrolling back to find what you’re looking for.

So those are just some of the different processes I’ve thought of as I sit in this lovely French town.  What have I missed? What processes do you follow?

Leave a comment or come join the Facebook group and share.

Indecision is the Devil for Writers

Indecision is my downfall.

If I know where I’m going next in my writing, it is no problem to sit down to my computer and get words on the page.  I can wrack up a good word count in no time.

But if I’m not quite sure what to write next, forget about it.  My brain gets fuzzy. I can’t seem to connect with my work. I don’t know what to do next and so more often than not I don’t do anything.

This goes for my to-do list as well.  Sometimes it gets so overwhelming that I just stare at it–and then go look for an interesting knitting blog to read.  Or, better yet, a writing blog, because then I can pretend I am working!

So lately my process with my to-do list has been to make a decision on what needs to happen next.  In today’s case, it was writing this blog post. And then I just focus on that until it is finished and I can move on to the next thing.  Here’s the key: if other things crowd my brain for attention, as they do, I remind my brain what I’ve decided to focus on. Once it is finished, I can look at the other things clamoring away and decide what’s next.

Funnily enough, as I was pondering this post, this post came to my attention. It outlines a very similar process, called the Ivy Lee process for productivity. (It is worth heading over there and taking a look.)

So how does this relate back to writing? For me, it means always knowing where I’m going next so that there’s no time for indecision to take hold. Once I’m rolling on a project, this is usually not a problem.  But sometimes writer’s block does strike–and it’s always, always, always because I’m not sure where to go next.

Things I recommend to prevent indecision from stymying your writing:

  • If you start to feel blocked, even a faint whiff of it, free write. Take the last line of the last scene you wrote and use that as a prompt.  Or just write out the problem as a prompt.
  • Maintain a list of ideas in a dedicated notebook. Anytime you have a moment of indecision, check out the list. It might get you going again.
  • Don’t slavishly adhere to chronology.  If the scene you’re working on isn’t lighting you up, move on to another one.
  • Create a loose outline. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Mine is just a list of scenes with notes about each scrawled about each one. But it really helps those moments of indecisiveness.
  • If all else fails, just choose something and go with it.  Not sure if your character should jump off a bridge or ride a merry-go-round? Just commit and write. You’d be amazed how often this works.  And if it doesn’t, you’ll soon figure it out.

How do you deal with indecision that blocks you? Leave a comment!

Or join the Facebook group and come chat there!

Photos from everystockphoto.