Okay, so I’ve written about rejection a lot of times. Like, a whole lotta times. But since the story I revised and returned to my wonderful editor is still deemed insufficiently engaging by her, I’m coping with rejection again. (Honestly, she gave me the option of cutting half its length, but I have officially washed my hands of the whole situation.) If I have to cope with it, I might as well post about it. Continue reading
writer
Exploring other media to conquer writer’s block
So, earlier this week, I had a case of the blahs. I suppose I didn’t technically have writer’s block–the problem was more that I didn’t want to do anything, not that I couldn’t write–but the results were the same.
My muddle
My best friend phoned. I told her my sad story. I didn’t want to write. I felt uncreative and just foggy in the head. She suggested I do something different, maybe go for a walk. Just don’t even try to write. Reboot.
The way out
For some reason, I’ve been getting back into art gradually over the last year. As a child and teen, I loved art, but like many people quit when I realized my mediocrity.
My collage poem.
I’ve been taking a lot of photos lately, even framing them and displaying them in my home. I’ve done a bit of sketching, as well, although that tends to send me back to a place where all I see is my lack of skill instead of getting pleasure from exercising what skill I have.
Anyway, after my phone call, I was itching to make a collage. I didn’t give into the itch right away, but as my kids settled in for homework this evening, I grabbed a couple magazines and a pair of scissors. Continue reading
Put some funny in your Adar
Purim is still almost six weeks away due to our extra Hebrew month of Adar this year, but it’s not too early to get silly. Writer Libi Astaire posted a hilarious “app” to repair your worst reviews. It’s pretty funny. She invites authors to go to her comment section and apply the app to their own negative reviews. I participated. Head over to her post to check it out.
Rehab for my Lame-O story
Last week, I resubmitted the Lame-O story that stressed me out a couple weeks ago. I found an ending that was logical, got some advice from my husband and my writing buddies about how to make the main character more sympathetic, and cut a lot of material that just seemed to distract from the main focus of the story.
I’m hoping the editor will now find it publishable, because I am simply sick of the story. Continue reading
Personal Geographic
Some of my readers know already that I’m a big fan of National Geographic. For someone who studied anthropology for years, it’s pretty much like periodical crack. (Yes, periodical crack can be read both ways.) I dig the magazine so much, that I spend an hour or two every month reading it cover-to-cover in order to scribble over any non-G rated language so that my children can read the magazine and become educated world citizens without losing their innocence. To some people, that last sentence probably seemed like a paradox, but if you’re an Orthodox Jewish mother with a graduate degree in anthropology and children, it’ll make perfect sense.
Garrison Keillor’s Personal Geographic
The February issue has a delightful article by Gerrison Keillor, all about his personal geography. He meanders his way through time and space, describing the landscape of “his” Minnesota: here’s where he went on a field trip, there he had his first job, his cousin died on that spot.
Your Personal Geographic
I thought this was a marvelous exercise for a writer: take a map, add the landmarks of your personal geography to it, then write. Or, better yet, map the setting of your story. Add the landmarks of your characters’ lives. Where did they meet? Where did they lose something? Where did they find something? Now, write.
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please share them in the comments below.
Ready for me to reveal more embarrassing truths?
I’m making appearance on Tablet again this week. Not being a shirker, I’ve revealed yet another embarrassing detail of my personal life: I am a reverse snob. (This is along with watching Afterschool Specials, being somewhat vain, making choices I can never really take back, and believing in ghosts...I know, I’m a bit of a head case.)
At the time a friend first accused me of being a reverse snob, I had no idea that such a label existed. It turns out that not only does it exist (there are definitions for it both on Dictionary.com and in the Urban Dictionary) but I indeed was one. At first I was proud of being a reverse snob…until I did some soul-searching.
The good news is that I’m now in recovery.
Rebecca Klempner 