Muffy Morrigan

Every writer has doldrums. I’m not talking about writer’s block, that’s a whole other ball of wax. No, I am talking about the doldrums, those times where we just lay stagnant, unable to move. (The term came from sailing and those latitudes where the winds would suddenly fail and the ships would just flounder.) I know them all too well. I can sense a story, feel it waiting like the breathless wind that never comes, and it just sits. I can toss everything off my personal ship and still it sits. I stare for hours at the computer and the words that should be flowing sit idle, lost in latitudes of the doldrums.

I have to admit a lot of my doldrums get caught up in the “what’s the point.” I get frustrated with my story and wonder if I will ever get it finished. Or I ask that question that haunts every writer from bestsellers to the writer of obituaries on the smallest paper in the smallest town on earth. Does anyone even read this stuff except me?

Then comes the gift of what I call the “Joan Wilder Moment”. For those of you who haven’t seen Romancing the Stone more than once, you might not get the reference, so let me explain. The heroine of the movie is a romance novelist who goes to rescue her sister from evil kidnappers in Columbia, and things go a little less than perfectly when she arrives. Finally she and the erstwhile hero make it to a small village—which turns out to be the stronghold of a drug-lord. As they are about to be shot by said drug lord the hero says, “Write your way out of this one, Joan Wilder.” The drug-lord lowers the gun and says, “Joan Wilder? You are Joan Wilder? The romance novelist? I read your books!” And of course, he becomes their staunch ally.

So, back to the Joan Wilder Moment.

In making reservations for an upcoming con, there was a “Muffy Morrigan? The Muffy Morrigan? I read your books!” Now, this was not someone who worked for the con, but rather an employee of the hotel that is hosting the con. It was a moment that reminded me why I am writing. Not just because I love my stories, but because I love sharing my stories. When someone is excited by what I’ve written, or is touched or—in the case of my story about gastroparesis—finds a little hope, I am blown away. Each time is like the first and I glow with the same lovely, fuzzy warmth.

I’ve found through the years that the doldrums almost always have a “Joan Wilder Moment” attached. Just like a ship lost in the windless sea finally catching the Trade Winds, so we can find that breathe of fresh air. Look for it. It will give you the joy and the momentum to sail on.

Writing Inspirations Part Three: Simplicity

I love words. I collected them like a raven collects shiny bits of things. I horde them, secreting them away to pull out on cold winter nights to look at and savor, to enrich myself with the depth of meaning, the foreign feeling, the difference they offer my life. I love words that are not common, but once were. In fact, I mourn the fact that so many wonderful words have left us to be replaced. For example—zounds as a swear word—once considered out on the edge, it means “by the wounds of God”. Now, just an out of date boring word.

That love of words carries over into my daily life. I love to hear different words, and while I am definitely not adept at learning foreign languages, I do love to have a few little words, small coins in my purse to pull out and trade when I am out of the country. I know how to say thank you in eight or nine languages, hello in seven or eight. And then the odd word that is utterly useless. I know how to say badger in Danish. Which is very useful in almost no conversation ever.

It’s odd, though, that my favorite writers, those that I idolize have very few… “big” words. What I mean is that they write with a simplicity of language, a parcity of words that makes what they have created so much more that mere type on a page. These writers have not fallen into the trap that bigger is better, or even that longer is better. They use a few short phrases and suddenly the beauty or horror, the love or hate they are expressing hits me in the gut and I am there.

One of my idols, Patrick O’Brian, wrote the magnificent Aubrey/Maturin books. The first book Master and Commander lacks something, and I know why. He had fallen into the trap he frees himself of later. By book three HMS Surprise, his language is beautiful. Those are books I read as much for the words as I do for the story. I love Jack and Stephen, but the writing is what I truly love. There is a moment in the book where he says “the winds had changed, the song in the rigging dropped by a full octave.” I have no doubt that should I ever sail on a ship is circumstances like that I will know that precise moment. And he does it so simply, so elegantly. No long words, no overblown waxing on. Only fourteen words and you know in your bones what it feels like, what it would be like to be there.

That simplicity is being lost. Of course, there have always been writers that overwrite, but the great writers really don’t. Even during the height of the florid Victorian era, the great writers don’t give you more than you need. Too much sugar ruins the dough, as does too much salt. The balance is difficult.

It’s getting harder for writers to find that balance today. We don’t value words. In a world that blithely accepts words shortened for texting, then allowing them into every day written language we are put to a test. And then we are further faced with the onslaught of new words. Words created merely because someone didn’t know that there was a fabulous word for what they are describing that already existed.

How does this affect me as a writer? It challenges me every time I sit down to write. I want my words to be beautiful. I want the scenes I create to live on, and I want someone to be in a moment and think “this is just like [fill in the blank]”. Will I ever be Patrick O’Brian? Maybe when I am ninety, when I have written hundreds of books and used my “instrument” of writing for many more years, I still doubt it.

Simplicity. As I write I stop myself many times and think “do I really need that word?” I don’t know if it comes from years of writing news and being held to a strict word count, or years of reading O’Brian, Twain, Christie and others, but I look at my work and question every word, every scene. Have I overwritten? Under or over-described? Can a simple word work? And then the biggie—did I just use that word to show off that I know that word whatever it is? For example “mellifluous” do I need to use that word? Or can I say “His voice was like the best chocolate.” It depends, and I need to search myself and decide if I want to use the word for its sake or to show off.

Simplicity.

Easy to say, harder to write, but worth the effort every time.

Writing Inspiration Part Two: Aware Reading

I honestly think that to be any kind of a writer, good or back, fiction or non-fiction—even news, you must first be a reader. It would seem obvious, to write you must read, but I have been surprised by how few writers read beyond the scope of their field. Fantasy writers read fantasy, mystery writers read mystery, paleontologists read dinosaur books. That never really made sense to me. I am a voracious reader and like a kid presented with a new food, I am willing to try almost anything once.

It’s someplace where many writers fall down. They get stuck in their own genre and see themselves as only compared to Joe Guy the greatest Fill In The Blank Author on earth. There is danger there. First, maybe Joe is awesome, maybe you adore his writing and want to write like him. But, he is not to everyone’s tastes, so focusing totally on him might be a mistake. Secondly, you run the risk of ending up in an epic rut that is hard to write your way out of. Then there is the third problem, if you read only in one genre, you tend to think everyone gets it, and will understand you when you reference it; that is not always the case, particularly in genres that are on the outer edges of the fringe.

Actually, I think you should read four books outside whatever genre you write in for every one in your genre you read. For example—you write classic science fiction, and awesome it is, but you shouldn’t just read sci fi. Try a mystery, maybe a romance, perhaps a fantasy and toss in something off-the-wall. Wander into the non-fiction area of the library (or Kindle store in the free section) and get something way out of your usual comfort zone. How about Myth, Ritual and Religion by Andrew Lang available free from Kindle? Or a personal favorite The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll, also free on Kindle.

So what did I mean about “aware reading”?

For me, every book I read brings me something new, even just a tiny turn of phrase or a new word. (I love to collect words, even if I never use them.)  Whether a novel or a non-fiction, there is something there that adds to my awareness of my own craft. I admit sometimes it is an awareness of something I don’t want to do, or don’t like, but that is a valuable lesson as well.

So what am I talking about? First go out and find something you wouldn’t usually read. Novel, short story, poem, or a book on String Theory, find something. Read it. Then think about it for a minute. While you think, ask yourself:

How does this affect my sense of my writing? Or does it?
Is there something here that I can use?
Does the prose flow in a way I like?
Do I like the words, the very bare bones of the work?

I know that feels a bit like a college class, and it will at first. But after you become aware of reading this way, you will realize you have been reading that way all along; pulling in bits and savoring them, keeping some discarding others. Maybe a scene was particularly vivid because of the way it was described and you unconsciously mimic it in your next work. Perhaps there was a fantastic word, that was just the word for your latest blog, story or article.

Whatever it is, it is there waiting. Just hop out and give it a chance.