Writing Outside (and from Inside) the Box
The pursuit of writing is time spent alone.
Necessarily, a writer spends a lot of time in her own brain, rearranging words, tweaking phrases, working to create the best sentences in the perfect order. Even away from the computer, she’ll notice interesting character traits, pay attention to other peoples’ turns of phrases, dream outlandish scenarios, making her sit up in bed to write down what cannot be forgotten.
But, in fact, the production of something readable takes multiple people.
I was reminded of this by my two biggest fans – my children – who once again encouraged me to not give up, even though I’m staring down the throat of sixty-six and my friends are retired or retiring. Happily.
Writing Conferences
Last fall, I attended my first writing conference in NYC, which was a wonderful, but challenging, experience. I learned a ton, was able to practice pitching, and found new friends. Many of us edgy and nervous as we waited for our turn to be rejected by an acquiring editor who looked to still be in college, or dismissed by an agent, who, while at least more mature, seemed frustrated with the choices that had landed her there, listening to uninspiring narratives on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
Plus, I paid for the privilege. Lots.
Still I did get to spend time with my daughter and her little dog, so that was worth it. Plus, I’m planning on attending another. So….
Writing Groups
One of the articles that made up the pre-conference required reading disdained writing groups as a waste of time. But I like mine. Being part of the F-Team (don’t ask about the “F”) forces me to submit new material every month – well, they don’t force; they’re actually really lovely people. Smart too. They read the work, provide feedback, and we commiserate over each other’s setbacks or obstacles, celebrate each other’s successes. It’s really a pleasure. And helpful.
Friends and Family
My friends ask how the writing’s going. Although, they might just be being kind, but that counts, doesn’t it?
My parents wonder where they can buy the book. I wonder that too. I hope it happens while they’re still alive to enjoy (!) it.
What I’m saying is: writing seems to take a village. Or a box.
The Box
While I was discussing my current lack of inspiration with my children, they mentioned “The Box.”
“Have you tried the box?” they asked.
It was a Christmas present from them, which they’d created many years ago. The box consists of prompts: characters, settings and conflicts. Like these:
Characters
A KKK member who forgot his hood
A nutcracker who is allergic to nuts
The less played with stuffed animal
A robot discovering how to feel
An eight-year-old boy with a goatee
A Shakespeare-loving jelly fish
Settings
The watering hole
Falling from the sky
In a white void
Under the bed
At a landmine factory
Inside of a burning house
Conflicts
Can’t stop sneezing
In a huge mess
Enemy planes off in the distance
Extremely itchy
Can’t get Queen out of head
Not tuna casserole again
Who couldn’t create narrative gold with ideas like these? While I’m not sure I can credit the box with any publishing credits, I do unfold bits of paper from time to time, take a walk in my kids’ imaginations, and smile.
What is certain is that the very best thing I’ve helped to create (because that takes a village too) are two extraordinary humans.




The characters / settings / conflicts selection reminds me of those segmented board books where you can swap out the head, torso, and legs to create many permutations of creatures. (Which in turn reminds me of the Dadaist exquisite corpse game.) The Oden clan is very creative!
Authors I’ve listened to credit travel to meet people, open their eyes to creative inspiration. Maybe you’re due for a new locale to shake things up for a few weeks - or take a new perspective on your previous jaunts by opening up your photo library of memories.
One recent novel I read last year was inspired by the lions outside NYC library.
Tomorrow going to annual author talk organized by local library. Could pass any insights from Marie Anne Fowler your way.