19th Century Writers, Productivity, and Us

photo courtesy sxc.hu

"Prowling about the rooms, sitting down, getting up, stirring the fire, looking out of the window, tearing my hair, sitting down to write, writing nothing, writing something and tearing it up, going out, coming in, a Monster to my family, a dread Phaenomenon to myself..." --Charles Dickens in a letter to a friend, February 19, 1856, while working on Little Dorrit

Does the above quote describe any of your writing sessions of late, even though the new year has barely begun? Take heart. You're in good company!

I came across these words of Dickens in an article from the archives of the New York Times: The More They Write, The More They Write, by Jay Parini, dated July 30, 1989. In it, Parini discussed the productivity of some of the great writers of the 19th century and shared insights into their peculiar habits that helped them sustain their high level of writing output.

He wrote about Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832) whose work included 27 novels and a 700 page journal: "The ferociously driven author always had at least two projects in the works at any given time, and...two desktops (which) helped to keep them separate." Two desks? That would be a luxury. Can we also have an extra day in the week?

Honore de Balzac (1799-1850), who wrote numerous books between 1822-1848 (eight books in 1842 alone), drank potent cups of coffee. "To spur himself on," Parini wrote, "Balzac used heavy doses of coffee that he prepared in the Turkish fashion, infusing the grounds in cold water, then heating them; he gradually used less and less water, creating a brew as thick as mud--a caffeine riot." Maybe some chocolate, too?

"Dickens (1812-1870), he added, "had no will to resist taking on new projects. Since his novels sold exceedingly well, publishers were only too willing to get him to sign on the dotted line. At several points in his career, he worked simultaneously on two or three novels while editing a journal and managing the affairs of a vast extended family. His energy level was such that he often took long late-night walks to cool his nerves." Yes, walks. I can identify with that, but not late at night!

Yet, Anthony Trollope (1815-1882), author of over 60 novels, wrote only three hours a day. Trollope was quoted as saying, "All those I think who have lived as literary men will agree with me that three hours a day will produce as much as a man ought to write." His plan was to write 250 words every quarter of an hour. Three hours sounds reasonable, but 250 words every 15 minutes? Hmmm....

So what can we take from this? A few thoughts:
1. Productivity is a personal thing.
2. Productivity...ahem...takes work.
3. But productivity doesn't always mean driving ourselves to exhaustion.
4. Productivity is a result of balance, being realistic, and discovering our own personal rhythms (and limits)--although the examples of others can be a source of inspiration, including 19th century authors for the 21st century.

Getting an insight into a-day-in-the-life of the famous Charles Dickens makes me want to re-read one of his all time classics, A Tale of Two Cities. The opening line has stayed with me since high school: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

Sort of describes the writing life in general, doesn't it?

Do any writerly idiosyncrasies help keep your words flowing? Unusual patterns or habits? Do you struggle with "Charles Dickens"-type days? Any plans to read a classic this year?

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Grandma's Bell, Little House on the Prairie, and Genealogy Stories

Grandma's school bell and quilted pillow

"A long time ago, when all the grandfathers and grandmothers of today were little boys and little girls or very small babies, or perhaps not even born, Pa and Ma and Mary and Laura and Baby Carrie left their little house in the Big Woods of Wisconsin."--Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House on the Prairie

My grandmother never wrote on the scale of Laura Ingalls Wilder (and of course there would only be one Laura anyway!), but she did write down the story of her childhood. It is recorded in a little 22-page booklet for her descendants to enjoy. Yes, though she was grandma to us, she, too, was once a little girl. In her story she tells of mischievousness (my grandma, really?), escaping the 1913 Marietta flood, loss of loved ones in the 1918 influenza epidemic, and dashed dreams--including the fact that she wanted to be a teacher but, except for Sunday School teacher, never achieved that goal.

My sister collected bells, mostly U.S. state bells, but we also found the little gem featured in the photo above tucked away in her collection. The label affixed on the inside simply reads, "Grandma's Bell." I often wondered about its history. Was it Grandma's inspiration, reminding her that even if she had not attained a teacher's degree she could still be influential? Had it been a gift? Did a one-room schoolhouse teacher who knew of her dreams bequeath it to her?

Two things happened recently that prompted some of my reminiscences. My 5 year-old granddaughter started reading the Little House on the Prairie series (yay, Angelica--another generation to be warmed and inspired by Laura!), and my cousin Amy floated a pretty neat challenge at the first of the year that seems to have exploded. Let me explain.

Amy is a certified genealogist. We have her to thank for the details of our family's genealogical tree on my mother's (and her father's) side. Amy blogs at No Story Too Small, "Life is Made of Stories." In her profile she says she doesn't think she's been to a cemetery she hasn't liked. She is seriously good at what she does.

Well, I have to brag on my younger cousin. Amy proposed a challenge for 2014 to her readers: "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks." Not only is she posting about her ancestors once a week (some mine, but she writes on both sides of her family), but she's also running a recap each week of those who have accepted the challenge and are posting about their ancestors on their blogs. As of week three, she is up to 242 links! What fascinating reading. Oh, imagine multiplying our own stories by those of each person around us, enlarging the circle, generation after generation. How many Little House on the Prairie series could we collectively write??? Amazing information at No Story Too Small. You can get lost in the links each week.

Amy's first of 52 posts featured, ta-da, our grandmother--along with photos and little details even I didn't know about. She started with Grandma because, as she says, she credits her for instilling in Amy her love of family history and genealogy. Funny, but I've credited our grandmother for instilling the love of writing in me (though I suspect Amy got her writing talent from her, too) since Grandma not only wrote that short history of her childhood but also poetry.

See, Grandma, you were a teacher after all.

And so I share this for all who love stories, history, genealogy, and just plain old inspiration to get out there and do what you love, and love as you go. Along the way collect your stories, pass them on. Who knows, maybe someday someone will say, oh, yes, she was a little girl once and what a neat story she lived to tell.

Love you, Amy--and if you're reading this, watch your mailbox. I think Grandma would want you to have the bell next :-)

Have you traced your family tree? Any stories pop up that you would want to pass on to those who follow after you? Has anyone in your family written about their childhood that gets passed down generation-to-generation?

"And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see--or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read." --Alice Walker

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On Looking Out Windows and Joan Walsh Anglund

Robin in winter snow January 2014

"A bird does not sing because he has an answer. He sings because he has a song."

                                                                                                   --Joan Walsh Anglund

I watched the snowfall this morning from an upstairs window. Floating flakes. Thick, blowing flakes. A cloud of swirling particles in silent white motion. How beautiful it all looked. Of course I was content to savor the beauty from a warm perch.

Downstairs hubby was also watching the wintry bluster from the vantage point of our porch room. I know this because I heard him say, "There's nothing sadder than a robin in a snowstorm." Oh dear. Poor thing. I hadn't even noticed.

But at about the same time I glanced at the shelf next to my chair and noticed a thin, almost-forgotten volume tucked away--Memories of the Heart, by Joan Walsh Anglund. I remembered that I had bought it at a library's used book sale a couple of years ago. Opening it up, I realized it's a treasure worth revisiting.

Familiar with Anglund's work? She's author and illustrator of more than 120 books according to her official website (here) maintained by those dedicated to keeping her work alive.

Born in 1926, Anglund lived in Hinsdale IL and Redding CT. She was educated at the American Academy of Art and the Chicago Art Institute. The popularity of her winsome words and illustrations peaked in the 1960s and 70s. Her themes were built on love, friendship and faith. Among her most popular books are A Friend is Someone Who Likes You, What Color is Love, The Brave Cowboy, and Love is a Special Way of Feeling. Later, images of her endearing round-faced characters and beautiful words translated into dolls, stationery, featured mugs and other incidentals. You might have seen such items in gift shops and Hallmark stores.

A sample of Anglund's words from Memories of the Heart:

Thought is the work 

   of the mind

as 

love is the occupation 

   of the Spirit.

***********

Wisdom is 

                                        as the morning light

...a gradual 

                           illumination.

***********

What shall we hold 

          tomorrow

       but 

         the love 

            we gave

                 ...today?

Beautiful, huh?

The Anglund book I now want to track down is Look Out the Window. I wonder what I'll find inside those pages? Anything like looking out my window at the snow this morning? Hmmmm.

And the robin? Well, I braved the cold and stepped outside later today hoping to get a picture of him. There he was (although my above photo doesn't do him justice--but you know how long birds stay still!) He wasn't shivering or huddling. He was actually chirping. He was not letting the cold stop him from sharing his song.

Made me kind of wonder.

It's a new year. Maybe I need to do things a bit differently. Like open my eyes and notice things more. Get more of my own words down while enjoying the words of others. And sing.

Are you familiar with Anglund's work? Do you have any favorites from her book list, or novelties? Should we carry some of her themes more in our hearts this year?

Want to take a peek at more of Anglund's sweetness? I found pinterest boards dedicated to her. Here are a couple of links:
http://www.pinterest.com/patchsamkim/joan-walsh-anglund/
http://www.pinterest.com/gagumbug/art-of-joan-walsh-anglund/
Enjoy!
                                          _________________________________

On Beginnings, Hope, and a Journey Down the Stairs

photo courtesy of sxc.hu

The old year has only a couple of hours to go as I sit down to post, and 2014 is just about here. We all wonder what the new year will bring, don't we? For sure there's probably change ahead. That goes with the territory. Maybe challenges. Choices. And celebrations. We can't forget celebrations.

As writers we often add more to our question list. What goals should I set for 2014? Should I concentrate on word count, or keep record of writing hours? How many submissions do I want circulating in any one given week/month? How many acceptances should I aim for? What concrete goals should I set toward publication? What about those with young families where daily life is already packed with details--will catching a word here, a word there suffice?

In past years I've chosen a word or words to set a theme for the new year. In my first year of blogging I posted about targets (and repeated it here). In the second year (2011), my word was potential (here). The third year? Relax, write, create. This past year I went with the p's--potential, permission, pattern, pace, priorities. One trick I've used to stay productive yet not succumb to unreasonable pressure is to list my weekly/yearly goals and then tell myself if I hit 75% of those goals, I'll be happy. I've tallied this year and have come in at 77%. Yay!

Thus, thinking of a new year, I thought it might be fun to open writing books (I have so many on my shelves) and peek into the introductory inspiration laid out at the beginning from seasoned writers. I discovered three themes--and I'm adopting them as my themes for 2014. Take a peek:

1. Beginnings. From One Writer's Beginnings, by Eudora Welty: "In our house on North Congress Street in Jackson, Mississippi, where I was born, the oldest of three children, in 1901, we grew up to the striking of clocks. There was a mission-style oak grandfather clock standing int he hall, which sent its gong-like strokes through the livingroom, diningroom, kitchen, and pantry, and up the sounding board of the stairwell. Through the night, it could find its way into our ears; sometimes, even on the sleeping porch, midnight could wake us up. My parents' bedroom had a smaller striking clock that answered it. Though the kitchen clock did nothing but show the time, the diningroom clock was a cuckoo clock with weights on long chains, on one of which my baby brother, after climbing on a chair to the top of the china closet, once succeeded in suspending the cat for a moment. I don't know whether or not my father's Ohio family, in having been Swiss back in the 1700s before the first three Welty brothers came to America, had anything to do with this; but we all of us have been time-minded all our lives. This was good at least for future fiction writer, being able to learn so penetratingly, and almost first of all, about chronology. It was one of a good many things I learned almost without knowing it; it would be there when I needed it."

2. Hope. From The Writer's Book of Hope, Getting from Frustration to Publication, by Ralph Keyes: "Sit at desk. Examine blank computer screen. Cursor blinks impatiently. Small fan hums within. Neighbor fires up leaf blower. Mail truck rumbles by. Kid's voice pierces closed door: 'Matthew hit me!' Spouse opens door, mail in hand. Hands over two manila envelopes addressed to you in your own handwriting. Spouse wonders when you'll be ready to quit. When indeed?"

3. A Journey Down the Stairs. From Finding Your Voice, How to Put Personality in Your Writing, by Les Edgerton: "A final word before we begin seeing exactly how to get to our own voices, lurking within. Relax. Yep, That's the word. Relax. Even though there are lots of exercises and examples and other nifty ways to get to your voice in the following pages, what we'll be involved in isn't thermonuclear physics or household plumbing or anything like those two incredibly complicated sciences. This is all about the voice you already own and have the owner's manual for. What we'll be trying to do here is have you simply remember stuff you already know to a T but have just misplaced in the basement of your mind. So...sit back and enjoy the trip down the stairs. You won't even need a flashlight. I've already switched on the light for you. Just use the handrail."

The things we need are there--our beginnings, hope, and a journey of exploration.

I think it sounds like a year of fun, don't you? What words/themes would you add?

Happy New Year to all who might happen to drop in!

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The Most Valued Ornaments

photo courtesy sxc.hu

"The ornaments of our house are the friends that frequent it." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

 Counting friendship as one of life's many blessings...

Thanks to all my friends (some I've yet to meet in person!) for your kind support and visits here. Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday filled with joy and peace--and cherished friendships.

Merry Christmas!

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Snow Days, Summery Touches

Butterfly Garden December 2013

"One must maintain a little bit of summer even in the middle of winter." --Thoreau

My contribution to Thoreau's idea, butterfly wind chimes in a winter's garden. Any summery touches in your wintry world?

Just wonderin'....

May your hearts be warm though your feet be cold!

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Snow Gifts

Garden Friends December 2013

"He brewed his tea in a blue china pot, poured it into a chipped white cup with forget-me-nots on the handle, and dropped in a dollop of honey and cream. He sat by the window, cup in hand, watching the first snow fall. 'I am,' he sighed deeply, 'contented as a clam. I am a most happy man.' --Ethel Pochocki, Wildflower Tea, 1993

Snow arrived today (estimates of up to 7 inches!), bringing with it a sleigh filled with gifts:

1. An excuse for another cup of favorite tea. Savor.
2. A good book to read--particularly next to a window with a view of the wonder. Snuggle.
3. A slower pace. Sigh and Smile.
4. Beauty and freshness, a hush and a stillness. Serenity.

About Wildflower Tea (Grades 1-4) from School Library Journal: "'One sunny Monday in May, an old man went out with a basket in one hand and a walking stick in the other...He stooped to caress a white stone polished smooth by the water and there, by the toe of his shoe, he spied some violets their faces turned up to his.' So begins a lyrical, seven-month record of a nature lover's scavenging. In November, the bounty he has reaped all summer provides his wildflower tea." 

Who was Ethel Pochocki? 
From Goodreads: "Ethel Frances Pochocki (1925-2010) was a children's book author living in Brooks, Maine. She developed a passion for books and writing working at the New York City Public Library. While raising eight children, she turned to writing in the early morning hours. Her writing career began when she won an essay writing contest about her experience taking in inner city kids with the Fresh Air Project in New York City." 

From About the Author, Amazon: "Ethel Pochocki described herself as 'an ordinary person' who happened to 'make soup and raise kids and write stories.' Both kitchencraft and the experience of raising children--eight of them--contributed to a whimsical, down-to-earth and understanding touch...she concocted adventures with the ordinary but vivid ingredients of life--'books, cats, music, frogs, hollyhocks.'"

Ethel sounds like someone I could relate to--"making soup, raising kids, and writing stories." Though I'd never heard of her before, I'm thinking about checking out her books now.

But maybe not until the snow stops falling.

How do you enjoy a snow day?

Hope you're able to enjoy it in safety. Have a super weekend.

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