When Imagination Is Out of Focus

photo courtesy of Pixabay 

"You cannot depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus." --Mark Twain

Left side of the brain is so often dominant over this way: details, to-do lists, things to keep track of. But I try to be intentional about keeping the right side of the brain awake and engaged so that writing is not neglected.

Some of my favorite activities?

• photography
• haiku
• writing prompts
• walks
• playing with the children
• reading
• journaling

Is your imagination strong at the moment or a tad out of focus? What do you do to refocus it?

_________________________________

History From A Redwood's POV

photo courtesy pixabay.com

"What a story a redwood stump could tell, with its 2000 rings of annual growth. One of the outermost rings carries us back to the landing of the Pilgrims. Count back from there: 1600, 1500, 1400, 1100--you are still only at the First Crusade. Keep on counting, year by year. Your eyes will be sore and strained before you get back to the year when Alaric was sacking a fallen humbled Rome. And yet this proud, this lusty American tree was already a strong young giant. When it was a sapling the Chinese were inventing paper. When it was a hopeful shoot, Pompeii, the pride of pagan pleasure cities, was buried under the ashes of Vesuvius. As the seed sprouted, Christ was born in Bethlehem." --Donald Culross Peattie, Trees

Not a botanist nor a naturalist, still I'm fascinated by trees. A sycamore plays prominently in my first children's historical novel. Thus I was fascinated by this author's take on the redwood tree. Donald Culross Peattie's way of describing a tree that can live as much as 2000 years and tower to the height of a 35-story skyscraper (source) makes the subject a whole lot more interesting than just posting a list of facts. What a way to capture a reader's imagination and set an inviting stage for more exploration!

One thing leads to another. A quote to an image. A bit of trivia to a person and his history. Turns out Peattie, with whom I was not familiar before coming across this quote, was one of the most influential American nature writers of the 20th century (1898-1964). His love of nature was triggered, they say, from his boyhood growing up in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. He went on to write more than twenty fiction and nonfiction books.

Though privileged to travel to California a number of times, I've never visited the state's famous redwood trees--but thanks to Peattie's writings I can at least "see" them more vividly now in my head. And since two of Peattie's books on trees have been compiled into one volume, A Natural History of North American Trees, I have the promise of more adventures into the world of trees when my copy, which I've ordered, arrives. I can't wait to read more of his work.

(Though I must admit that a real-life, up-close-and-personal visit would get my vote for really seeing the redwoods!)

Writers. Books. Imagination. Taking us places we might not otherwise visit. The words of Donald Culross Peattie, and the promise of his books, captured my imagination this week. What author or book has captured yours lately?

_______________________________

"Nodes" and Potential Story Connections

February 2015

"I discovered that if I trusted my subconscious, or imagination, whatever you want to call it, and if I made the characters as real and honest as I could, then no matter how complex the pattern being woven, my subconscious would find ways to tie it together--often doing things far more complicated and sophisticated than I could with brute conscious effort. I would have ideas for 'nodes,' as I think of them--story or character details that have lots of potential connections to other such nodes--and even though I didn't quite understand, I would plunk them in. Two hundred pages later, everything would back-fit, and I'd say, 'Ah, that's why I wrote that.'" --Tad Williams

Do you trust your imagination to come through for you in your writing? Have you ever experienced an "ah-ha" moment when an unexpected but welcomed detail bubbled up from your subconscious and surprised you, making you ask where did that come from? Doesn't it make you want to push through to the end of that first draft in order to see how all those "nodes" connect?

There's hope in the midst of the pain of a first draft. Just look for the gift of the nodes and trust they will eventually connect to build a commanding story!

___________________________________

Words-of-Week Survey: Are You Lucy, Linus, or Charlie Brown?

graphic courtesy weheartit.com

The scene is bucolic. The three characters in the Peanuts comic strip (Charles Schultz,  The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 5, 1959-1960) are lying on their backs on the top of a knoll watching the white, fluffy clouds float by above them in the sky.

Dialogue:

Lucy: Aren't the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton. I could just lie here all day and watch them drift by. If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the formations. What do you think you see, Linus?

Linus: Well, those clouds up there look to me like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean. [Points up] That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor. And that group of clouds over there...[points]...gives me the impression of the Stoning of Stephen. I can see the Apostle Paul standing there to one side.

Lucy: Uh, huh. that's very good. What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?

Charlie Brown: Well.. I was going to say I saw a duckie and a horsie, but I changed my mind.

Ah, poor Charlie Brown!

Actually, I can sort of identify with him. The past week has been relatively successful--the rough draft is moving forward, about 4000 words-worth so far. That in itself is amazing since I procrastinated so much on this project last year. I'm not looking back over the mess (see last post about the messy first draft here) to edit or fill in the blanks. Just pushing forward at this point. I'm afraid when I do go back, though, the voice will sound more like Charlie Brown than Linus.

But maybe that's okay. Duckies and horsies might be just what my story needs!

Are you Linus, Lucy, or Charlie Brown in your writing this week? Watching very many clouds go by? And how is your imagination faring?

______________________________ 

On Circuses, Invention, and Memorable Characters

"But the stories that astonish us, the characters that live forever in our memories--those are the result of rich imagination, perceptive observation, rigorous interrogation, and careful decision-making...When it comes to storytelling, invention is the mother of astonishment, delight and truth." --Orson Scott Card, Characters and Viewpoint

Went to the circus the other night, hubby and I, along with friends Vic and Connie (thanks for the glow-in-the-dark necklace, Connie!). Can you think of any better place for a writer to go to fuel up their creative tank?? It's a place that gives a nod to Mr. Card's list of elements for inventing stories and characters:  imagination, astonishment, and delight. Added to that, there's also...

 artistry

daring

the unexpected

tension

color and humor

stunning conclusions

What about you? From what did you draw a sense of rekindled imagination this week? Hope it was as much fun as the circus.

Have a great rest of the weekend, everyone...

__________________________

Lucy Maud Montgomery, on Adventure

"So ran the current of my life in childhood, very quiet and simple, you perceive. Nothing at all exciting about it, nothing that savours of a 'career.' Some might think it dull. But life never held for me a dull moment. I had, in my vivid imagination, a passport to the geography of Fairyland. In a twinkling I could--and did--whisk myself into regions of wonderful adventures, unhampered by any restrictions of time or place." --Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874-1942), author of Anne of Green Gables, from her book, The Alpine Path: The Story of My Career

*************

Like Ms. Montgomery, may our imaginations take us on wonderful writing adventures. Happy weekend, everyone! Got any adventures planned (writing or otherwise)?

Imagination Gone Wild

"Perhaps imagination is only intelligence having fun." --George Scialabba

I came home one day this week from a morning jaunt (thinly disguised as exercise :-) to an innocent question from hubby: "How was your walk?"

Well, I had rehearsed what I was going to say most of the way home. This is how it went:

"Oh, nothing unusual. Except...well, I saw a cowboy, got accosted by a bandit, was quizzed by a tax collector, and had a four-legged senior citizen teach me a life lesson."

What's that all about, you say? Did my imagination get the best of me?

Or did I run with my imagination?

Imagination: n. "the action of imagining; power of forming pictures in the mind of things not present to the senses...the ability to create new things or ideas or to combine old ones in new forms...a creation of the mind; mental image; fancy.

This is what really happened. At a point, I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see a guy riding a black horse and leading a spotted gray one across the road. Now once upon a time my neighborhood consisted of a few little farmhouses dotted randomly about, but no more. Most have been replaced by newer homes. So where did these horses come from? Where is the barn? Where was the rider going? He was not wearing a cowboy hat.

The bandit? Bandit--the name of a white yappy dog--ran toward me just after the horses passed from view. I swear this noisy thing was going to nip at my ankles. The owner, an older guy who had great difficulty walking, came out and tried to round Bandit up, all the while assuring me his dog would not bite. Yeah, right--did he get Bandit's word on that?

A friend drove up shortly afterwards, slowed down and kept pace with me for a little while. "Say," he said as he kept an eye on his rear-view mirror for any cars that might be coming, "you know your taxes are going to go up." He had noticed we recently had a new patio put in at the back of the house. "You think so?" I responded, and waved as he went on down the road. Not really a tax collector, but curious all the same.

And the four-legged senior citizen? I greeted Cindy who was walking her slow, meandering lab, Cameo. "At least she's still moving," Cindy said of her 17-year old dog. "Ha," I replied. "I think there's a lesson in there somewhere for us, too!"

Don't know if I'll try to weave a story from any of these elements or not--but it was fun to craft a draft in my head and test it out on hubby.

It's sort of like something Thomas Edison said: "To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk."

Or Dr. Seuss--"Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!"

Where did your "thinks" take you this week? Any plans to stir the imagination in a new and fun way in the days ahead?

*photo: sxc.hu/

Mulberry Memories

"What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense, to fear no longer the terror that flieth by night, yet to feel truly and understand a little, a very little, the story of life." --Beatrix Potter, author of The Tale of Peter Rabbit

We went on our walk together this morning, hubby and I, something we try to do on Saturday mornings as a different routine than the normal weekly things. And lo and behold, we discovered that the mulberries are ripe.

The mulberry tree edges the road about a mile up the way. If you, like me, tend to keep your head down when you're walking (hubby always admonishes: "Get your head up! Look around. Don't watch your feet...") then the first sign of evidence are the purple splotches on the asphalt. But when we checked out the tree's branches, we marveled at the rich lode of berries growing there.

And the memories kicked in. I'm a child, along with a couple of neighbor kids, and we have crossed the road where it curves around the bend, skipped up the lane, and climbed the gnarled branches of the neighborhood mulberry tree. The owner doesn't care. We nestle in the crook of its branches, and stretch as far as we can to reach the plumpest, juiciest berries. The sun warms our arms. The breeze ruffles the leaves and cools our faces. We eat until we're full. It's one of my favorite summer memories.

For hubby, his memory bank kicked in as we passed a cluster of first-of-the-season daisies. "The end of the school year" flower, he says, the name he gave the daisy as a kid. He'd notice fields of daisies growing along the bus route those last few school days and know that school was just about over. Then he'd be free. Free to play ball--even if it meant just himself, with a rock and a stick and an imagination back on the hill behind the house. There he'd throw the rock up, hit it as far as he could--and pretend that the rustling leaves were his adoring fans cheering him on.

Oh, the childhood memories!

Recently, in our newspaper, columnist Paul Daugherty wrote a column about summertime ("How Summer Is Supposed to Be Spent"). In it he recalled how, as a child, his parents (who both worked) would leave a quarter on the bureau in the living room for him, and a handwritten reminder: "Have a good day and don't break anything." Armed with that 25-cents, "a bike and two good friends," he writes that he'd "throw myself at the day." He writes of being Roberto Clemente one day, Steve McQueen another, of sneaking into the tennis club pool or visiting the local pet store. He says, "Some days, we were bored. Kids need to be bored. Boredom is good."

He makes a good point as he continues: "The essential part of childhood is...being a child. Plan nothing. Risk. Extend...Loll. Dare. Engage. Run, jump, be fearless, look silly. The magic is in the day. Seize it. Find your own quarter on the bureau in the living room. One summer to a customer. This one's yours. Play."

I love his philosophy and think that we could use a bit of it in our adult lives, too. Especially those of us who write for children--as we explore such intangibles as imagination, creativity, wonder and the craft of words. What do you think? What's one of your favorite childhood summer memories--and how can you incorporate a touch of the child you were into the adult you've become?

A Mom's Story, With Love

"The world is a book. Those who do not travel read only a page." --St. Augustine

We've just returned from a trip to California, a trip with special meaning. Please forgive me for having a nostalgic moment here, but the following are thoughts I came home with. You'll see the purpose of this latest trip as you read along. All of this has little to do with the subject of writing except to say, run with your imagination where ever you go. You'll see what I mean...

Once upon a time there was a little boy who loved to fish, wander the creeks, and chase butterflies. He wasn't Christopher Robin, but like the boy in A.A. Milne's The House at Pooh Corner, he had his array of childhood friends, including Bert, Ernie, and a black cat named Tootsie-Too. He entertained himself for hours by building cars--on his bed. A bowl served as a steering wheel, various toys as engine parts, and a box covered in brown paper was decorated to look like a battery. The best of the best was when someone dragged in a real radiator for him. This child spent countless preschool-aged hours driving hundreds of imaginary miles to all kinds of imaginary places.

He was a little boy who loved to take items from the pantry and stock his own playtime store on the screened-in porch, pretending to sell his stock back to mommy for a penny here and a penny there. Once he even sold groceries to the neighbor lady, who played along with his game so convincingly that mommy didn't know the box of baking soda had sold until she went looking for it.

The little boy grew to enjoy basketball, the electric guitar, and a family tradition of Friday night international meals. On those nights, recipes from a different country were prepared, facts about the featured country were shared, and a well-worn globe was pulled out in order to locate the country's position in the world.

The boy grew up to become, not a builder of cars, but an engineer in his own right. He accepted a job offer and moved to California right after college. He married a lovely young lady and, as time went on, opened his heart to his own little boy, Nicholas. And then...the day came when imagination became reality. He no longer chased butterflies, but he chased, caught, and ran with a dream he had dreamed for a long time--a dream to live in another country.

The day has arrived. He is about to embark on a journey that will take, not a car built on a bed, but a whole range of modern day marvels to make his dream a realilty. He has sold, not groceries from mom's pantry, but personal belongings like cars, furniture and appliances. This time next week all the preparations will have been completed, and he and his family will fly to...Spain. There they will begin their new lives.

And so, where proud parents (that's us by the way!) once stood back and marveled at a child's imagination, they now step back and wave to a grown-up son who is living out the dreams of that imagination. Birds once sang their songs outside his bedroom window. They've sung their songs outside of nine month-old Nicholas' room in California as well. The mural that Nicholas' mommy painted on his bedroom wall stands as a testimony of songs waiting to be sung in their new home far away.

We wish them smooth travels, bright-eyed wonders, and all kinds of good things ahead. And who knows what adventures will open up for those of us who cheer them on. The fun has only begun.

Keith, Suzan and Nicholas--we love you. Let your imaginations soar. We'll anticipate all the many stories that will only be yours to tell.

And don't forget to skype!

"People travel because it teaches them things they could learn no other way." --Lance Morrow

Imagination Revisited

"Write. The physical act itself will free the imagination." --Steven Taylor Goldsberry

We discovered a winner when we pulled out an old doll house in preparation for our granddaughter's recent stay. What to do with a two-year old when it's too hot to go to the park and all the old regulars--bubbles, puzzles, and Play-Doh--have become, well, old? The doll house, one her mommy helped put together when she was a little girl--was a big hit.

Angelica's reaction to the new-to-her plaything was precious. Eyes wide with wonder. Little voice exclaiming, "House!" The discovery of furniture, doll family, and even (ahem) a doll-sized toilet. She loved the piano--they have one at home--and ran fingers over keys as "B-I-N-G-O, Bingo was his name-o" played behind her. We even overheard her tell the children to "sleep" as she laid them on the bunk bed.

A child's imagination was reintroduced into OUR house. Priceless.

I've been thinking alot about imagination as I begin book two. Though some elements, like setting, shout at me, the story still remains elusive. I need to stir the imagination big time. Marshall Cook, in How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child, says most of us grow cautious as we grow up. "But inventors, pioneers, and entrepreneurs retain that childish ability to play 'let's pretend'. "

So, how to play let's pretend as an adult? How to dream up, create, craft a story using a lively imagination, holding nothing back?

One way is to dip into the experience bag of others who have gone before. One book I have on deck is Blake Snyder's Save the Cat. Though designed for screenwriting, it's also a great handbook for exploring the subject of storytelling. I also plan to play around with Cook's Skill of Master/Genius of Child writing exercises to help jump-start the process.

The most important way, however, is to simply write, with faith that the physical act itself will free the imagination. And that, because I'm a writer and I like to write, should be a little bit like child's play.

What do you do to help stir your imagination?

TMI

Historical fiction is one of my loves--I guess that's why my first children's book is in the genre. I've always loaded up on stories about history at the library or in bookstores--starting in childhood with Little Women, the Little House books, Caddie Woodlawn and the like-- and the pattern has carried over to writing.

But here's the problem--at least my problem--in writing historical fiction: TMI.

Yes, TMI as in "too much information." Not  too much in relation to research, getting the facts straight, being true to the period, representing life as it was in the particular era--that's the first thing historical fiction writers will address. You've got to know who your character is, where she fits in to her time frame, where she comes from. But most of what has been researched, catalogued, stuffed in the brain--if used--will be an overload. What we're looking for here is story--a good one. Not a history lesson. So I'm open to inspiration in dealing with the problem. Here are a few words on the subject:

"The best research doesn't do any good if you can't tell a great story--gripping for children, who are often interested in things that we aren't, and bored by things that we think are cool...you have...to keep them reading."--Jennifer Jensen, Suite 101

"When we convey dialect, we should use a light touch to keep the text readable and so as not to parody our characters. In historical work, the dialog shouldn't be too historical-- a few thees and thous go a long way." --Paula Fleming, writing-world.com 

"The good historical novel is the wise selection of the right fact for the right effect. It doesn't surfeit the reader by too much information, it doesn't starve them with too little." --Caro Clarke, caroclarke.com

And perhaps the most helpful words of all come from Ann Rinaldi, author of over 40 historical books including The Second Bend in the River and Nine Days a Queen:

"...and so it is that historical fiction writers build on facts and take the leap of imagination..."

Yes--imagination! The big key. I'm so ready to drop my TMI overload and take the leap.

Wanna' go with me?

The Reveal

Don't you just love those HGTV shows? Well, maybe not everyone likes them as much as I do, but House Hunters is my favorite. I also sometimes watch the "reveal" shows--those where someone needs a basement renovation, or help with a project gone bad. Homeowners are always thrilled at the "reveal" of the finished project.

Thus my lead-in to the reveal of my last post--the answer to the mystery photo. The answer is reminiscent of a remodeling job gone bad, too, but more on that in a minute.

As a review, the previous post was prompted by the discovery of Cook's book, How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child (Writer's Digest Books, 1992) on my shelf. As I've delved into its pages, I've tried my hand at some of the author's "exploration" exercises. About approaching a subject first as you think you see it, then as a child might, Cook says, "When you fantasize this way, you teach yourself two important truths about your writing. 1). There are no right answers, only possibilitites; and 2). It doesn't really matter where you start. Start anywhere, dig long enough, and you'll strike the core."

So, since there are no right answers, only possibilities, my inner five-year old became convinced she saw a pile of autumn leaves just waiting to be leaped into--or buried under.

As for the real story, one through adult eyes, Lindsey and Shannon were right on in their comments when they said, "wallpaper." The surprise is in where this wallpaper can be found. I wish, Lindsey, it had been in a Victorian house!

Here's the reveal. Ready? Ta-da...drum roll, please...this photo comes from the (ahem) bathroom of a downtown Indianapolis hotel room where we stayed over the weekend when in town for a basketball game. Believe me, it's easy to become claustrophobic in the middle of this print.

So there you have it. Just a fun writing exercise. I'll try to post more of Cook's tips soon. But I promise: no more ugly wallpaper.

Skill and Creativity

Mystery picture time! What do you think this is? First reactions count--don't spend too much time thinking about it.

Got an idea? Okay, try again. This time, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and step back...into childhood, maybe as a three, four or five-year old. As you open your eyes, revisit this picture through that child's eyes. What do you see?

I glanced up at my book shelf the other day and saw a book I didn't recognize. The title is How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child, by Marshall J. Cook. When did I buy this book? Better yet, when did I read it? I sure don't remember doing either.

But there it was, second shelf from the top. And it cried out, "Read me next--read me next!" Curious, I pulled it down. It's now on the top of the list of books to read this week. It will be my writing inspiration.

In the meantime, the title has already inspired me (see how powerful the right title can be?). We know a lot about the skills of writing--that's probably a writer's strong suit since we're constantly studying the craft. What we don't always get is how to write with the genius of a child--tapping into creativity and imagination. I'll be reading the book to explore this side of writing--and will share some thoughts on the subject in my next post.

To jump start the process, I thought it would be fun to pose my mystery picture question. What did you see at first glance? What did you see through a child's eyes?

I'll share my answers with the review. Can't wait to see what you think!