Exciting News!
You can hear me discuss creativity, working slowly (the best way) and how different places around the world inspire me on the Chasing Creative podcast!
Pop over here to listen....
http://www.chasingcreative.com/place
Exciting News!
You can hear me discuss creativity, working slowly (the best way) and how different places around the world inspire me on the Chasing Creative podcast!
Pop over here to listen....
http://www.chasingcreative.com/place
I am so excited to announce that On Our Street has been short-listed for the Bolen Children’s Book Award. This is such an honour, and it reflects the wonderful team of editors, authors and publishers who worked on this book!
The results will be announced in mid-October. But, quite honestly, to have been short-listed makes me so happy and grateful already!
Shall we have another coffee break? Wait, I’ll just pour the frothed milk over our coffee to make lattes. I’ll have mine decaf, no sugar. How do you like yours?
It’s Friday; which bitter sweet as I look the list I had for this week. It was long. I accomplished most of my important tasks, but not all of them. We are early risers, so I’ll work at dawn on the weekend days, before we head out for fun and games with our three-year-old.
At the end of the week I try to take a deep breath, and to be gentle with myself. Did you know that “inspiration” is latin for “breathing in.” I can’t think, or be inspired, unless I’m relaxed enough to let the breath flow freely. I chatted about that in my last monthly newsletter (which is a monthly meditation on creativity). Not on the list? You can read the back issue at THIS LINK, and if you’re inspired, please sign up. Next week I’ll be talking about being gentle with ourselves. I promise you’ll be inspired.
Anyway, if you were here for coffee we’d talk about lists (how to do you make yours? Bullet journal? Sticky notes? Digital app?), about breathing, about being gentle with ourselves even midst the chaos of daily life. And how important it is to stop and smell the fragrant coffee.
What are your plans for the weekend? And please head over to read the back issue of my newsletter. It’s my gift to you for being such lovely and inspiring friends.
Autumn is the perfect time of year for writing.
Gone is the glaring sun that lasts until almost midnight and erases all the dusky shadows of inspiration from the mind. The evenings draw in, we retreat inside, and reacquaint ourselves with the deepest musings of our hearts.
For, admit it, we didn’t write much in the summer did we?
The afternoons were too hot, and the long evenings were perfect for lounging, sipping cool drinks, and listening to the echoes of neighbourhood children playing in the twilight. In the summer it feels ungrateful to be sitting inside at a computer when the weather is glorious. And trying to work outside is never advisable, as the sun glares on the screen and the heat is too oppressive for linear thought.
We might have had good intentions to finish that novel, or start journalling, or write a short story. But summer beguiled us into thinking it would last forever, and we would always have tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and went and transformed the world into russet and flame and amber. The air is full of the tang of apples that have fallen from the tree and are slowly fermenting, of wood smoke and leaf mould. Fruit and foliage are being changed alchemically from one thing to another. The afternoons are moist. The harvest moon hangs low over the horizon. The evenings are crisp. And you mark the day on your calendar when you need two duvets instead of one.
Transformation and harvest; fruit to wine; grain to bread; trees from green to red.
Autumn is all about transformation and harvest, and that is why it is perfect for writing. We feel that transformation in our souls, and want to reap the rewards.
Just think of harvesting those plump ideas, hanging pendant and ripe for the picking from the idea tree in our minds. They grew full and juicy during a long, hot summer of growth, and now they are ready to be transformed into words on the page.
The margins of our life is smaller in the darker days. Our routines are concentrated in one or two rooms: for me it is the kitchen and the studio. I bounce between the two ferrying freshly brewed cups of tea, or refilling my paint-water jar.
Winter has always been the season for storytelling, and for the reading of long novels.
In the ancient days winter fell on the small villages and darkness descended on the hillsides. People retired inside to sit and eat and drink, where they could lie in blankets and reminisce about the summer’s conquests. They would spin stories of magic and adventures.
Now, we might not tell stories by the hearth-side, instead we watch boxed sets and netflix dramas, and we stack our bedside tables with thick novels. Those are our modern epics.
There’s a relief when it’s six o’clock and almost as dark as midnight. There’s nothing else for us to do but dive into the soul and write (or read). And let our imaginations roam through the margins of reality.
Or, when you rise in the morning and the sky is still dim with the pre-dawn glow. There is no harsh light to pierce the delicate membrane of our early morning imaginations. We can keep the mysterious and limitless post-sleep dreamlike state alive as long as possible. How much easier it is to sit quietly, intently, writing.
So, my writing self welcomes Autumn with joy.
What is a notebook?
A notebook is paper, card, glue, and perhaps a twist of thread to stitch the binding together.
The components are simple.
But notebooks are magical. As soon as you purchase one at the stationery store and scrawl your name in the front cover, it has been transformed.
It is no longer
just
paper, card, glue and twine; it is an extension of you. When you add yourself to the ingredients list it isn't just
any
notebook anymore, it's
your
notebook. There is no other like it in the world.
You add your thoughts, your habits, your visions, your goals. It is messy. It is neat. It is dog-eared. It is imbued with your personality and emotions. Sometimes your notebook is the only safe place to express those emotions...
Not only that.
It is your notebook at this specific time and place. A notebook you bought and used two years ago will bear no resemblance to the notebook you bought yesterday. In that interval of time you have changed and matured, and the notebooks will reflect that.
To make your notebook extraordinary, and like no other, all you have to do is sit down and: write, scribble, sketch, glue, paste, cut, doodle, or do whatever else you feel like doing at that moment.
And then it is yours.
And it is extraordinary.
Because you are extraordinary.
This weekend I spent some time organizing my studio, and I thought it might be fun to take you on a tour of my notebook collection and show you how I use them.
I have been keeping journals continuously since I was 12 or 13 years old. I started in sweet looking cloth-bount diaries, then moved on to Mead 5-star spiral bound scribblers, then decided that I needed to be stylish and chic, and graduated to moleskines.
I write an entry almost every day. Normally I describe what happened that day (or the day before, if I'm writing first thing in the morning), and outline my thoughts about my projects or things that might be happening in my life.
However, I don't always write journal entries in my moleskine journal. I keep a concurrent journal in a Scrivener file and sometimes I brain-dump my thoughts into that. It's nice to be able to type at the speed of my thoughts, instead of waiting for my hand and pen to catch up.
I'm not precious about my paper journals. They're messy. They're full of scribbles. They're peppered with mis-spelled words and incomplete sentences. Sometimes I only have the time to write quick lists about the day -- things I saw, things I thought about -- in a rapid logging style. My journal is for un-selfconscious experimentation and expression. It's where I push my voice to its limits and figure out what my heart really wants to say. It is utterly private, but at the same time, there isn't much in there that is deeply secret or unsharable.
I recently moved from a moleskine pocket sketchbook to a normal sized one. At first I liked the smaller size of the pocket book because I could wedge it between diapers, wipes and bottles in my hold-everything bag. Now that Little One is older, and we don't need to bring the kitchen sink on every outing, I've opted for a slightly larger notebook. It gives me more freedom to decide how large I want my sketches to be.
This sketchbook is all about daily experimentation and play. I'm not enamoured with the moleskine sketchbook paper. It only does an adequate job of dealing with watercolours and some pens bleed on the paper. That being said, I quite like that I can't be precious about what I'm doing. I feel free to make mistakes because these drawings are only for myself.
I have many other sketchbooks which are the workhorses for my various jobs and projects. For those I normally use A3 or A4 Seawhite of Brighton sketchbooks. They're big, bulky, fantastic, and rarely leave my studio.
This is where I have to admit to you that I'm a nerd; I'm completely, hopelessly nerdy. When I'm reading and I come across a word I don't know, want to use more often, or think is particularly lovely, I write it and its definition down in this little notebook.
I don't know where I got this book from and it started off as something different. It's first iteration was as a book of lists: things I wanted to bake, things I loved, etc. But, it turns out that a book of lists didn't inspire me.
But a book of words?
Heaven.
Here are a few of the words therein....
caparison:
ornamental covering for a horse
fulsome:
complimentary or flattering to a excessive degree
dilatory:
slow to act; intended to cause delay
furze:
gorse (a type of plant). Thorny, evergreen, small yellow flowers, grows in the moors.
pellucid:
translucently clear
plaints:
another way to say "complaints"
numinous:
having a strong religious or spiritual quality.
Will I ever use any of these words in every-day writing or speaking? Probably not, but I love knowing that I have enriched my vocabulary with them.
Whenever I read inspiring passages or facts I copy them into my inspiration notebook.
In essence, this is like an old "commonplace book," which is defined as a notebook into which notable extracts from other works are copied for personal use.
I'm on my third commonplace book. At first I copied clichéd quotes and song lyrics (I was in my teens). In my second book I copied beautiful paragraphs from novels, and useful paragraphs from non-fiction.
In my third book, in addition to recording beautiful and useful things, I'm also trying to incorporate more poetry.
I need more poetry in my life.
My Easter resolution this year was to keep a gratitude journal. I've flirted with the idea for years; scribbling little notes in the margins of my journals or day planner, but I've never stuck with it for longer than a few weeks, because I've never had a concrete plan.
I realized that if I listed three things I was grateful for every day, that would be 1095 happy things to remember over the course of a year.
I wanted a special notebook to motivate my in my quest for gratitude, so I ordered the gorgeous "Line A Day" diary from Chronicle Books, which is a perpetual diary that runs for 5 years.
Think about this: five years of daily gratitude would record 5475 happy moments.
My day planner is a black moleskine notebook with squared pages. I have quested high and low, though stationery stores across three continents, and never found my perfect planner. My main requirements are: a weekly view where the daily portions are vertical instead of horizontal, so I can write lists; and lots of space in the margins for weekly lists that are not day-specific.
For much of last year I used a planner that I had made in inDesign and had printed at our local Notting Hill printing shop. However, after six months the ring binding was in shreds and pages flew hither and thither whenever I opened it.
Since moleskine notebooks have the strongest binding of any notebook I know, I bought a book with squared pages and ruled the spreads myself.
I LOVE this little planner of mine. It is my brain. It is my time-keeper. It keeps me sane and helps when I feel overwhelmed. Everything gets written down, so nothing is forgotten (at least nothing important).
And, there are plenty of pages in the back for me to keep notes on projects I'm working on, books I'm reading or want to read, random lists, and weekly recipes so that I always have the ingredients lists on hand.
It's a mess, but I love it.
Do you have any notebooks you can't live without?
And, would you like a more detailed tour of any of the above notebooks? Please leave a comment to let me know.
And, as always, show your love by pinning on pinterest, sharing on facebook or twitter, or hearting in bloglovin!
When I open my front door I step into a cloud of purple fragrance. It is sweet and intoxicating. At my feet the bees are getting drunk on the nectar from the hyacinths. My window boxes are an open bar with an infinite tab.
I love to see the bees waltz, bourrée, and fox trot around the hyacinths, muscari and daffodils.
Sometimes, when I'm stuck in my studio with a fog of thoughts and worries clouding my senses, I think I hear the flowers knocking on the door, wanting me to come out to play.
So, the other day I did.
I drew a fairy, and she and I cavorted with the spring flowers for an afternoon.
My mom stayed with us for a month and helped to look after Little M while I tackled a few creative projects that were gathering dust in the corner. I had the liberty write and draw freely and exuberantly.
I finished the dummy for a new book for Penguin Random House South Africa. And I made headway on two personal projects that I had been bursting to start. One has completely changed shape after a transformative weekend retreat at Gladstone's Library; the other is plodding along at a slow pace, but I'm very happy with its progress.
So... success all around.
But it's interesting to notice how success "feels" versus how you "thought" success would look when you were imagining it.
I didn't write 500 words per day.
Not even close. But if you consider that a picture might be worth a 1000 words, then I didn't do so badly.
I managed to close the door and turn off the internet.
But I ended up sleeping most of that time. I'm convincing myself that sleep can be as restorative and inspiring as drawing and writing.
I wanted to page through the dictionary.
I did look up a few words words (asperity, restive, adumbration...) but otherwise the tome gathered dust on the floor beside my bedside table. Perhaps I'll open it more now? One can only live in hope.
I hoped to read with reckless joy.
And I did. This isn't a difficult resolution to make because it's what I always do anyway.
And finally. I wanted to feel proud of anything I could accomplish,
even if it was less than I had hoped for, because being a stay-at-home/working mom is tough. Yes it is. No question. And I'm so proud of the small steps I've taken this month.
This month of rest and creativity has given me a lot of courage.
To all you readers who might be stay-at-home/working moms... it can be done.
It takes 3 minutes to sterilize Little M's bottles in the microwave. I often pop them in, and then quickly do a few chores in the kitchen. I wash a few dishes. I wipe the counters. I fold laundry.
It's amazing what one can accomplish in 3 minutes. I can do anything for 3 minutes, even the things I think are impossible, like sitting down to write or draw. (Someone, someday, will be able to run a 3 minute mile, even that's not impossible.)
Sometimes, when Little M is fractious and I'm exhausted, I divide my day into innumerable 3 minute parcels. That way things don't feel overwhelming.
I write for three minutes; I draw for three minutes.
I thread those little moments together like beads on a string, and suddenly I've accomplish more than I thought I could.
I'm not sure how I'll manage now that my mom has returned to Canada, but I saw a scintilla of light glimmering in the fog of confusion and exhaustion.
It must be possible....
It is possible.
The key is to realize that there's no way of knowing how to do it until you're in the middle of it, muddling your way through.
I'm just going to start and hope for the best. And hopefully I'll find inspiration, energy and a bit of luck along the way.
My mom arrives this week; I’m excited and nervous.
I’m excited because I haven’t seen her for half a year, and I can’t wait to sit at the kitchen table chatting about not-much-in-particular, with Little M crawling underfoot and clinging to our knees.
I’m nervous because it means I have to start working.
I have two rather important projects that need time, energy and creative spirit. So far I haven’t been able to concentrate on them, and having my mom around means I’ll have live-in nanny for a month. So… no more excuses.
What I’ve realized is that, in order to succeed as a stay-at-home/working mom, I need to completely re-imagine my writing life.
I used to stumble out of bed just before M left for work. I kissed him goodbye, made a cup of decaf (always and only decaf), opened the curtains just enough to let a shaft of light in (but not to much to pierce the morning dream-state), crawled back under the covers, pulled my laptop onto my knees and started writing. Or, if I had pressing illustration work to finish, I would hunch over my paintings at the kitchen table, still in my pyjamas and with my decaf in hand, to complete the day’s quota of illustrations. In the afternoon I would switch, either writing or illustrating depending on which I had done in the morning.
This is no longer possible; my mornings are unrecognizable.
Now, I jump out of bed at 7 am sharp while M is still in the shower. I fetch Little M, who is often already awake and playing with her stuffies in her cot. I change her diaper (usually poopy), make breakfast, pour her bottle. I try to coax spoonsful of porridge or fruit into her mouth. Meanwhile, I jump up to brew my cup of decaf in between her complaints at not being able to wield the spoon herself, and wiping mush off the floor.
I roll out the yoga mat and attempt a few serene sun salutations and other stretches while Little M climbs under, over and through. She touches my face while I’m in downward dog, she fiddles with my pony tail or climbs over my legs while I’m practising the splits, and she sits underneath me while I’m in the bridge, making getting down very challenging.
Then, I re-roll the yoga mat and open my computer and dayplanner to focus at the tasks at hand.
Little M roars around on her hands and knees, trying to explore any undiscovered corner or piece of fuzz on the floor. She bangs empty water bottles against the fridge. She watches the sudsy laundry revolving around in our front loading washing machine. She pulls her books off her bookshelf and pages through them, examining each page to see if any new characters arrived over night. (This means I need to read her a story, of course).
I take a deep breath and make another cup of decaf. Sometimes I clean something. Little M watches with fascination, thinking my scrubbing and spraying is some sort of game.
By 9 am Little M is ready for her morning nap. I snuggle her into her blankets and deposit her gently into her cot. I close the curtains and sneak out the door.
Finally. An hour and a half to write/draw/think/read/try to be creative.
And all I want to do is make another cup of decaf and stare at the victorian rooftops and swaying plane trees out our window. The hurly-burly morning has exhausted me.
Novelist Roxana Robinson wrote a poetic article about her morning writing routine in the New Yorker in 2013. She talks about how, if she answered emails or looked at the news, the delicate membrane of her early morning imagination would be pierced. She wants to keep the mysterious and limitless post-sleep dreamlike state alive as long as possible.
I can’t do that any more. I have to try to recapture that penumbral state hours later.
So, for the next month, while I have a little extra help at home, I’m planning to adopt a few writing principles to help me through this transition…
1.
Write and draw daily.
Even if it’s one line or one tiny gesture with the pencil. The ultimate goal is 500 words of either fiction or journalling every day and 2-3 spreads, sketched (even roughly).
2.
Close the door. Turn off the internet.
I need to give myself permission to seek solitude. Little M will be fine with my mom. The internet won’t collapse without my attention.
3.
Page through the dictionary.
Words are our resources, we need to know how to use them wisely.
4.
Read everything else with reckless joy.
(Fiction, poetry, self-help; it all inspires)
5.
Feel proud of what I am able to accomplish, even if it is less than my (probably) impossible expectations.
Being a stay-at-home/working mom is challenging… and amazing.
* * *
For this post I was deeply indebted the post my good friend Ayla wrote on her blog.
. The more you kiss or hug babies or young children, the happier they will be when they grow up. {That sounds like a wonderful plan to me!}
Virginia Woolf
. I decided to go to London, for the sake of hearing the Strand roar, which I think one does want, after a day or two of Richmond. {This is particularly appropriate after recent conversations of where we would move to if we left central London.}
Kate di Camillo
. Poetry. He liked the word -- its smallness, its density, the way it rose up at the end as if it had wings.
Poetry
.
D. H. Lawrence
. We ought to dance with rapture that we might be alive ... and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.
When I was a teenager I discovered an old notebook of my grandmother's in which she had written down the title of every book she had read as a teenager in her gorgeous, florid handwriting.
Seeing her notebook inspired me, and shortly afterwards I bought a small notebook from our local dollar store and started keeping a reading journal of my own. I have recorded 715 books that I read for pleasure since October 30, 1999 (which is weird, as I just realized that my daughter was born exactly 15 years later!).
I didn't realize when I started how much that little reading journal would influence my life. It has become a bibliography or road map tracking my personality, my worries, my likes, my dislikes and my fascinations.
1. To remember what you've read.
Sometimes I'll remember a story I read, but won't remember the title. Or I'll want to recommend a book that I loved three years ago... It's handy to be able to open my notebook, flip to the relevant page, and find the title and author.
2. To track your changing personality and reading taste.
Certain books speak to us at certain times in our lives. When I look back at the books I was reading a year ago, three years ago or 10 years ago I can see exactly who I was at that time and how those books nourished my personal quests.
3. To keep track of how much you've read.
If you're like me, you are a competitive reader. Each year I want to read more than the year before. The goal isn't always more books, but to read with more discernment. One year I read all of Shakespeare (except for the history plays). Other years I have had other challenges for myself. Keeping a reading journal keeps me accountable for my reading goals.
4. To record your impressions of a book.
My reading journal started out as a simple bibliography (Title, Author, Date Read), and hasn't expanded beyond that. However, I also keep a "Commonplace Book" where I collect quotes and passages that inspire me. This is like an extension of my reading journal.
5. It makes you a better reader and a better writer.
When you keep a book journal you are practising conscientious reading. You're reading with purpose, and giving focused attention to something invariably makes you better at it.
1. Selecting a container.
The decision here is digital vs paper. When I started the digital world wasn't nearly as advanced as it is now. I bought a little notebook from our local dollar store and started recording the books as simple bibliography entries. As that's how I started, I don't think I'm going to change my system. You could get a slightly larger notebook and include your favourite quotes, if you wanted.
I know that Moleskine does a special reading journal notebook, which might be a nice option.
If you want to go digital, you could open a word document, or even use one of the reading log websites such as goodreads or librarything. The thing with goodreads that frustrated me is that you can't record books twice, which means you can never record when you've re-read a book. (My husband always teases me about how often I re-read books.)
2. Decide how much or how little you want to record.
This is completely up to you. Do you want to write a book review and collect quotes for each book? Or do you simply want to record the title, author and date you read it? Those three entries are the absolute minimum. You could also record how you acquired the book or who recommended it to you (bookstore, library, borrowed from friend, found on the train seat, etc). And you could have a system for rating the book. I usually put a small dot beside titles I really enjoyed.
If you do decide to copy quotes, make sure you write down the page numbers for each one, or you'll never be able to find the original again (I've learned from my mistakes).
3. Number the books.
Your first entry will be # 1. Then number each subsequent entry so that you can keep track of how many books you've read since you started. I've read 715 books for pleasure since Oct, 1999. I didn't include the innumerable books I had to read for academic papers and research, as all those books would have been recorded in the various research bibliographies appended to my essays and dissertations.
4. Record the book when you've finished it.
If you don't, you'll lose track.
5. Keep a page or two at the back to record books you want to read.
Whenever someone recommends a book, or I read a book review that sounds interesting, I write the title of the book down in the last pages of my reading journal. That way I'm never stuck for something to read when I have no books on my bedside table.
Have you every kept a reading journal? Do you have any tips?
{Skidding on Laurie Lake Manitoba}
Story #1:
My grandpa spent the winter of 1942/43 working as a Conscientious Objector. As he was a Mennonite Pacifist, it was against his convictions to become a soldier during WWII. Instead, he aided the war effort by cutting lumber at a camp on
in Northern Manitoba. He was an avid photographer, and all the pictures documenting his time at the camp were carefully pasted into an old photo album. The young men must have had a lot of fun, as many of the photos are of the games and pranks they played.
Story #2:
Ever since I was a young girl, this picture has been an inspiration to me. I want to live my life like that young man hanging on the back of the tractor.
I want to hitch myself to the world and let the forward momentum sweep me off my feet.
Story #3:
My Grandpa died last week. I will miss him dearly. He was a quiet man; always the one observing; the one behind the camera. Did he know that when he took this picture 70 years ago that it would inspire his granddaughter?
I've often thought that there are many layers of meaning to the photographs we take. There are so many stories woven into each moment.
How many stories can you tell with just one photograph?
Do you want to join in on your blog? Choose one of your pictures and tell a few of the stories that surround it.
Feel free to link to your post in the comments below!
{Scene of the lake from a treetop: which means Grandpa must have climbed a very high tree!}
Whew!
I've spent practically every minute either relaxing with my husband or curled up under my duvet.
I'm not exactly sick, though I do feel like I'm fighting something that's gnawing at my lungs. Mostly I think I just need time to breathe....really breathe... deeply... slowly... fully.
I opened my day-planner on Monday morning, and was delighted to see nothing written in it for the whole week. No deadlines. No meetings. Just a page of days ready to be filled with enjoyment.
And what is more enjoyable than breathing? Fresh clear air (even in the big city) is so refreshing. And then there's the fragrance of blossoms and coffee brewing...Heaven.
I think I've spent three days sitting in my studio, pencil in hand, but not drawing at all. Instead of drawing, I watched the sun move across the white sketchbook page and the curtains dance in the breeze.
That makes me sound lazy. Which isn't true at all.
In our rushed culture we forget that some of our best ideas come in idleness. Inspiration comes when your mind has space to breathe. After all, the word "inspire" means "to breathe in". (from in and spirare which is the latin for "to breathe"). I wish I could write a book about the correlation between inspiration and breathing deeply, but for now, let's just give that thought some space to grow in our minds.
And while I was sitting and staring at the curtains in the wind some marvellous ideas for illustrations pranced through my mind. Oh! I'm so excited to start drawing tomorrow!
Life is busy. I'm constantly reminding myself to keep moving forwards, to push through the busyness, but also to take time to breathe deep and smell the roses.
I think that's what this little illustration is all about...
When life is flying at a fantastic pace, why not take the roses with you?
And remember to breathe deep and be inspired
(which might be the same thing, after all).
.
Follow your effort, not your dreams.
This is a truth that has been resonating deeply with me lately.
We often focus on what we dream for ourselves. In my case, it's dreams for my career as a writer and illustrator. Where we are in the present moment is never good enough, there's always more to achieve, a farther star to reach.
This month (February) I have an illustration exhibiting at Foyles Bookstore in London. It is an exhibit of the most promising up-and-coming SCBWI illustrators from 2012, and I'm very (very) proud to be included. I'm excited because I'm in this amazing exhibition, hanging with all the other amazing illustrators, but also because Foyles is the best independent bookstore in London. It's like a literary mecca for bibliophiles.
A few days ago I went to see the exhibition. I admired all the amazing illustrations, and then I sat in the bookstore cafe and thought about life. You see, several years ago I had a meeting in that exact spot with two editors regarding a children's book project for a major cultural museum in London. I wanted that job so badly, and I was so nervous as I was pitching my portfolio.
Did I get the job? Yes, I did. But... the project fell through due to funding and other bureaucratic nightmares. It was going to be my first major break, and I fell apart when the bad news came.
Sitting in that cafe, several years ago, I never could have imagined that my illustrations would one day be hanging on its walls.
I never would have dreamed it could be possible.
So you see? It was all those days of effort, working for the sake of working, and trying to open doors whenever I found them, that led me to where I am today. (Not my dreams)
I still have far to go; and I'm still dreaming. But I'm also so grateful for how far I have come. And I'm not going let setbacks keep me from working hard, for it's the hard work that will get you to where you want to go in the end.
What do you think?
This weekend I attended the SCBWI Cape Town Spring conference (2011). It was such a treat! The roster of speakers dazzled the attendees: Steve Mooser (SCBWI president and founder), Erzsi Deàk (founder of Hen and Ink agency), Nicol Faasen, and Stephan Spies (publisher).
The afternoon consisted of crit groups moderated by prominent South African publishers: Michelle Cooper (Tafelberg), Sally Howes (Watermark), Carol Broomhall (Jacana), Aldré Lategan (Human and Rousseau), and Miemie du Plessis (Lapa).
The consistent theme throughout all the talks and critiques was how we all need persistence. It can be hard to trust the process of creating, but this conference definitely affirmed the need for bravery and persistence when facing blank paper. There is a story within you; cajole it out of hiding with songs and soft words, otherwise it may remain in the shadows forever. Don't give up!
... and how does a chair relate to determination?
This is how a book or story has to start.
Something rings in my head, like Great Tom. A knell...
Then I must invoke the magic word.
Oh, yes -- there is one.
All truly successful writers know it.
I shall whisper it in your ear:
BIC.
It stands for
Butt In Chair.
Really. Hard work is the only real magic there is...if the book in your head is to get onto the page.
"Take Joy" (p. 84)
Oh, and what a chair it is! The most creative, writery chair of my acquaintance. Something Hemingway would happily sit in whilst smoking and drinking gin.
The various chairs around our house have aided me in editing (re-writing) 3830 words of my 45000 word story. Three days of work: one thousand words per day (minimum). They say Stephen King writes 2000 words per day, but he's special, I'm sure. Or, he has some amazing chairs.
Hopefully my chairs will continue to cooperate in the next month, as I pull and push my characters around a dusty town in North Africa.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.
--Lao-tzu
Sometimes when inspiration and motivation are lacking, all it takes is doing one small thing to get you back on the right track.
Projects often seem huge and overwhelming when viewed as a whole. So, you say you want to draw every day? Your brain whizzes forward an imagines 365 completed and fantastic pencil or ink drawings. There is no way you could achieve all that in one day, let alone one week.
Rather, start small. I was in Oxford the other day and knew that I would be too tired to complete a large drawing when I returned home. Instead, I whipped out my ballpoint pen and did a tiny sketch in my day planner. This sketch of the Radcliffe Camera in Oxford is no more than 1.5 cm square. But that is big enough to count as a drawing.
So, for whatever project or job you have looming over your head, just identify one small thing you can do right now to get started. Send that email, file those papers, dust your desk.
That small step you just took will lead you on an epic journey towards your highest potential.