Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Writing Rules I Can Live With

by Susan

I chafe at lists of writing rules, all the nevers and don'ts that imply there is one way to tell a story. If I want to use a dialogue tag other than "said," Mr. Leonard, I will. (She opined.) Despite that, a couple of years ago I wrote my own list that I'm reposting this morning.

Photo by Neha Deshmukh on Unsplash
Coffee first, then food.
Live dangerously. Lick the batter off the spoon.
Eat what you want. Listen to your body.
Make a mess. Clean it up.
I love you, but stay out of my kitchen when I cook.
Food is forgiving. Create recklessly.
Recipes are mere suggestions. Experiment.
You can never go wrong starting dinner with sizzling onions.
Although there are limits. Sizzling onions over ice cream? Doubtful.
On the other hand, I could be mistaken. Try onion ice cream if you want.
When in doubt, err on the side of too much butter.
Vanilla, too. Measure it over the bowl so the extra spills over.
Garlic makes life complete.
Fresh is better.
Invest in good knives. Chop with confidence.
There are no rules.

Photo by PICSELI on Unsplash
Coffee first, then writing.
Live dangerously. Release the muse.
Write what you want. Listen to your soul.
Make a messy first draft. Clean it up.
I love you, but stay out of my room when I write.
Words are forgiving. Create recklessly.
Writing guides are mere suggestions. Experiment.
You can never go wrong finding the sizzling, red-hot core of your story.
There are no limits to that sizzling core.
I am not mistaken on this one.
When in doubt, err on the side of too much writing time.
Self-care, too. Fill yourself until you overflow.
Words make life complete.
Fresh is better.
Invest in your editing. Chop with confidence.
There are no rules.

I'd also like to share Chuck Wendig's post, A Very Good List of Vital Writing Advice — DO NOT IGNORE! With a language warning. I'd have to meet him in real life to be certain, but I think the man might swear more than I do, which takes some doing.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017


guest post by Rich Keller

There are moments in your life when one door closes while another opens. This doesn’t happen on a regular schedule. It can take place anywhere and anytime in your life. It can be so subtle that you may not even know it. Then again, thunderous crashes and creaks can represent the closing of one portal and the opening of another. For me, the path between doors led to a revelation in which many more journeys will take place.

For privacy reasons, I shan’t go into too many details. Be assured I’m not seriously ill, or going to war, or heading off to Alpha Centauri with my new alien friends. For simplicity sake, let’s say I came to a great epiphany during one of the lowest points in my life. A change in my domestic situation provided a great gift … freedom. And I decided to utilize this precious commodity by shedding many of my unneeded objects though minimalism and transforming myself into a digital nomad.

For clarification, I am not traveling across the Sahara on the back of a camel while I try to get a signal for my laptop. The ever-growing community of digital nomads use the opportunities the current age of communication provides to work from anywhere across the globe. They shed mortgages, cars, bills, and personal objects to work and play for extended periods of time in places like Costa Rica, Vietnam, Hungary, and Thailand.

Instead of seeing the world through the microcosm of the media, they experience it firsthand.

For creatives, including myself, taking on the world as a digital nomad is so right. I’ve always been a traveler, gaining experience for two weeks each year when my father took us on our annual summer vacation. I learned more about this country than I could through textbooks and AAA pamphlets. And I took this love of travel into adulthood.

Unfortunately, the culture of consumerism drew me in. I bought houses and cars, thinking I would feel better if I could keep up with the Joneses. But, I never did keep up nor feel better. The weight of bills, lawns, and oil changes kept the love of travel at bay. In turn, it also kept the creativity on simmer instead of quick boil.

Thing is, we’re a nomadic society. Think about your great, great, great, great, etc. ancestors who walked across Pangea and the land bridges which once spanned this planet. They had to be creative to survive. And they didn’t “settle down” to spend time rocking on their rocks and complaining about the kids who wouldn’t get out of their mud pits. They continued to move, to explore, to see things from a new perspective.

And this is what I’m doing as a wandering creative. I want to see the world for myself, to draw energy from other cultures and environments, for that is bound to forge a new spike of power in my creative soul. Sometimes, this will be through my podcasts and videos. Other times it will be through my writing, and still other bouts of creativity will come from the challenges I make myself take. To minimize all of this into one statement … I’m going to take responsibility for myself as well as others in my life.

I understand this type of journey isn’t for everyone. However, should you have the chance, step outside of your comfort zone, close the door behind you, and seek out the adventure which is behind the new entryway. It’s the next step to determine who you really are.

Lynn chimes in...

I met Rich through my past involvement with the Northern Colorado Writers organization. Then I had the opportunity to be a guest on The Daily Author podcast, promoting Watch My Rising: A Recovery Anthology. Rich is a bright, humorous guy and I'm excited to see what he'll do as a digital nomad--hopefully he'll send back lots of dispatches from his travels!

Richard Keller is the owner of Wooden Pants Media and host of The Daily Author podcast. His new video and podcast series, The Wandering Creative, premieres in July. You can learn more about Richard, his company, and his books, at http://www.woodenpantspub.com.

You can listen to past episodes of The Daily Author on Blog Talk Radio, TuneIn, GooglePlay, and iTunes.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

My Failed Declaration of Independence

My husband, that slacker. Why isn't he in the kitchen fixing me lunch?
By Susan

This whole househusband thing isn't working out quite as intended.

My husband retired a month ago, much to my joy and delight. I anticipated a life with time for writing. Someone else will clean the house! Shop for groceries! Cook me gourmet meals every night!

I'd have a kept man... a cabana boy... a scullery lad. All those tasks interfering with my writing were off my plate, and I would devote my hours to the written word. Needless to say, those large swaths of time did not materialize. Nor has the vastly increased word count.

The grocery fairy left me presents!
Certainly, the house has been cleaner. The grocery fairy has been leaving fresh fruit and vegetables in the fridge. I can't complain. He stays busy. Living with this man is like living with a border collie. "Gotta have a project! Gotta have a project! Woof, woof, WOOF!"

But he's not at my beck and call like some handsome manservant. He has his own things to do: tackling all those house projects that built up over 11 years living in an old house, mountain biking up at Vedauwoo, playing guitar. And when I get home at the end of the day he wants to spend time with me doing something other than staring at me while I type.

Then there's the bathroom (groan).

A scrub of the scrungy tub led to a strip of dislodged caulk led to the discovery of water damage in a corner of the floor. Now we have no sink, no vanity, no shower hardware or walls, and half of the linoleum is ripped up. (I guess technically, it's vinyl flooring, but I love the sound of the word, "linoleum.") On the other hand, we've got $200 worth of brand new ceramic tile out in the truck waiting to be unloaded.

Oh, the joy that awaits us.
He'll do the work himself. (WOOF!) He's a DIY kind of guy. He even bought me a tile saw for Valentine's Day one year.

When he was kicking around the idea of retirement, I envisioned coming home with evenings galore to sit at my laptop. In my mind, it promised freedom, my declaration of independence from the tasks that weighed down my writing. But truth be told, my writing is only weighed down when I do not make it a priority.

As I write this, I think forward to my own retirement in 2,405 days, 7 hours, 33 minutes, 30... 29... 28 seconds (not that I'm counting.) THEN, I will have hours upon hours to write... won't I?

I won't, unless I declare my independence from the fears and anxieties that paralyze me. I must battle my inertia, ignore distractions, and develop the ability to say "no" to unnecessary tasks and obligations. I must make writing my priority.

I can do that -- as can you. We carve out our own space for writing. Maybe, just maybe, today is the day I declare my freedom and start putting the words on paper that I'm meant to.


My one concern writing this post is that some will think I'm making too light of Independence Day. I hope you do not take it that way. I wish you all a Happy Fourth of July. May this great country celebrate many birthdays to come.


And as I now get ready to hit the PUBLISH button, it's 2,403 days, 11 hours, 31 minutes, and 20 seconds until I retire. Not that I'm counting...