Inspiration has struck! Now what?

There are times when an idea is so overpowering that it takes on a life of its' own.  It simply will not allow you to put it to the side and take time from it.  All those pesky things like family and that 9-5 job are such annoying distractions.  This type of story telling is like a sprint.

There are other times that an idea takes a more meandering path.  It can strike and light up your life for a minute, a day, or even a whole week and then it kind of fades away.  It is as if the passion has ebbed away. 

I have also had ideas that I keep bumping into.  I had put them to the side and moved on to other interesting tid-bits to only have them show up again. 

What is the point?  Well it is about developing the idea or concept to the proper point.  What is the proper point?  Well that is what makes this craft interesting, challenging, and exciting. 

I have heard it said that you cannot go back and write in the same way as when you put aside the idea, draft, manuscript etc.  Well that might be a good thing.  Some of those concepts needed a fresh angle, a more developed perspective.  Maybe it was not the story that needed time to develop.  Maybe it was the writer that needed to grow into it?

My point is that as a writer it is our job to write.  To do that we need to work on developing the idea  until it becomes the story it was meant to be.  You need to dedicate the time to doing just that.  Time to develop not only the idea but the story.  While doing so you are also developing as a writer. 

Thank you for reading my blog.  Please feel free to leave your comments.  If there is another topic you would like to discuss let me know.

I wish you all the very best and happy story telling.

T L Scott

How to find time to write in a chaotic world

How to find the time to write in a chaotic world.

As I am writing this my children are playing.  They are not the quiet sort.  They are very energetic and really get into whatever adventure they are undertaking.  My wife is chatting away on the telephone with a friend.  When this is done we will be going out for the day to attend to family business.
I say all of this because most of you are like me.  We do not live in a vacuum.  We have lives that need to be tended to.  We have families that demand and deserve our attention.  Most of us have full time jobs as well.  I am including you home makers as well.  You may not punch a time clock but you have a salaried position that is very demanding.  Keeping up the everyday business of running a home is work!

So now that we have established that we are busy and pulled in many different directions, when do we find the time to follow our passion of writing.

We make the time.  That may sound cliche' but it is the only way.  I have talked with other writers who carry around their idea book.  It is a small notebook that they keep in their purse or pocket.  When inspiration strikes them they take out their idea book and jot down the inspiration.  I have one friend that uses breakfast and lunch to work on his story lines.  He puts his notebook next to his bowl of cereal or his lunch tray and works on his story.

I have found success using both of these strategies.  I have also learned through trial and error that my best time to write is in the morning.  If I wake up and power up my trusty laptop before anything else I am able to get in some really productive storytelling.  I also try to write before going to sleep.  This may only be for 15 minutes or so, sometimes for hours on end, but I find that whatever idea I am working on it is usually richer after letting it simmer overnight.  On the nights that creativity is flowing I have found myself surprised to see that it is 3 am and time has literally slipped away.  I admit that I really love the feeling when that happens.  The next day at work I am paying the price though.  Unfortunately I am not one of the people that work very well on only 4 hours of sleep a night.  I like my sleep.  I like a good 8 to 10 hours of sleep.  Unfortunately I also like to write and my busy day takes up most of my time so sleep is sacrificed on the mantle of creativity.

So in summary capture inspiration when it hits by jotting down your ideas and ways to develop them, take advantage of situations like breakfast and lunch when you can write while you are doing something else, and make time to immerse yourself in your story.  For me the best time is in the morning but find out what works for you.

The biggest advice I can pass along is to keep at it.  There will be a million and one things that get in the way.  Things that demand your attention will always be around.  Focus and find the time to follow your passion of writing and you will be a writer, and writers write!

All the best,

TL Scott

First of all thank you for taking the time to read this.

Ok what do you do when the dreaded writers block gets ahold of you?

Well before we go there let's pause for a moment to talk about what writers block is.  I know that the answer to that is as varied as the people reading these words.  With that said I will share my thoughts on this topic and encourage you to do the same.

I have found that writers block for me has come in various stages and for different reasons.  More often than not it is because something is not working in the story.  That has been for different reasons at different times.  It has taken a hold of me because a scene in the story just did not "work".  I knew that it did not work but I was trying to force it into the story anyway.  It was an interesting angle but it simply did not fit.  I knew it did not fit and I could not get past it.  I therefore became a blocked writer.

Another time was when I found myself staring at a blank page for the start of the third chapter.  The harder I tried I could not get started.  The more I looked at that blank page the more frustrated I became.

I can almost hear the sympathetic groaning coming from you.

Well I did manage to get past the blockage without throwing my trusted laptop out of the window.

In the first case I wrote a quick summary of the situation that did not fit.  I then wrote down a summary of the story before and after that situation.  Once I had that I took a step back and looked for flaws.  Why was it not working?  The answer became blatantly clear that I was trying to put it into the wrong part of the story.  The character was too developed in the scene compared to the story around it.  Of course I could have used a technique to make it work with a dream or flash-forward or something else but that was the problem.  It was too obvious that it did not flow well.  By putting it into the story later on it not only fit into the story but added a depth to the story that was missing.

I used a similar technique in the second instance as well.  I distilled the story and then looked at the major progression points for the story.  I then broke down the major points of the characters and their interactions.  Once I had that backbone for the story I was able to work through it and with continued refinement I was able to massage it into a very interesting story.  "Fault Line" will be my next release.  More on that in future posts.

In summary I want to say that writers block can strike anyone for any number of reasons.  My recommendation is to take a step back and break down the story and then plot out the connection points of the story.  Once you have that basic format I have found that I am able to build on it until somehow the story is told.

Please share you thoughts.

All the best,

T L Scott

Hello faithful readers,

As I promised here is the first chapter in the forthcoming novel A Life Worth Living.  I would appreciate your feedback.

Chapter 1: Burning the Candle

         Three days earlier and 143 miles south west. . .

             One hundred seventy six thousand twenty four, thirty eight thousand nine hundred and sixty, two hundred thirty four thousand one hundred and six . . .RING, nine hundred seventy three thousand  RING RING. . . Oh hell! 

             “Becky, can you get that?” 

            RING. . .  A quick glance at the clock confirms what he already knows.  Becky, his secretary, has already left for the night, and he is yet again working way too late. 

            It’s probably Debbie on the phone to tell him to come home for a cold dinner. 

Knowing that his line of thought is broken he picks up the phone.

             “Thompson here.”  He says.

             “Do you have any idea what time it is?”  His wife immediately asks. 

             They are both all too familiar with this routine.  It’s not that Dave wants to be away from his family so much.  It’s that his job is not an easy one and to do it well he has to work hard at it.  That usually means not only late nights but also some weekends as well.  He likes to provide nice things for his family and it takes money to give it to them.  There is nothing wrong with that, right?  Unfortunately though, it usually means him sacrificing his time with them for time staring at rows upon rows of numbers.  This is just another night among many, working late yet again.  OK, there is something wrong with that.  There is just not enough time in the day to do all that needs to be done!

             “Don’t tell me,” she said sarcastically.  “You lost track of time again right?  You didn’t realize that it’s already past eight?  Sometimes Dave I feel like you prefer spending your time with Becky instead of me!  You know what?”  she asks as I hear her taking a calming breath.  “I don’t even care anymore!”  The edge in her voice is growing sharper as her voice gets louder.  “That’s not what’s important here.  What is important is that Aidan scored the only goal of the game and not only were you not there to see him do it, yet again, you were not even home for dinner so he could share it with you then!”  she told him. 

            “Do you want to know what he said about that Dave?  He said I should go easy on you because you were working hard for all of us!  Do you get that Dave?  He was defending you not being there for him.”  Debbie had dropped her voice and was speaking slowly, enunciating each word.  Dave knew from long experience that she did it to ensure that there was no mistaking what she was saying.  She only did it when she really meant what she was saying   and more often than not it was when she was really upset about something, like now, for example.

            “Dave, we have a great son and you do not spend nearly enough time with him and you know it!”  she fumed.

            The sad thing is that everything she is telling me is the truth.  I know it and so does she.  I want to be with him more because not only do I know how great he is, but also because I know he deserves better.  I just wish I could get it all done and have the time to spend with him and with Summer, our daughter, who is equally as neglected by me, and just as deserving of my time.  She is also pretty awesome in her own right.

            This is a problem that has continually gotten worse throughout our eighteen years of marriage.  While I was in the Navy I was gone more than either of us wanted.   We decided to get out of the Navy and put the GI Bill to good use.  I went back to school and finished up my degree.  Debbie was great about supporting me.  She had already completed her degree and was a Registered Nurse. 

Even though she was working long hours she still made time to take care of the bulk of the chores around the house and to mentor me on some of the subjects I was struggling with, especially math.  In fact, if it wasn’t for her clarification of key points I know that I could not have gotten through it with the grades I did.  I knew that I owed her and I would always try to pay her vigilance back. 

            After I graduated I didn’t simply fall into the job of my dreams.  The market was not a very friendly one and I had to settle for an entry level position earning much less than what I had anticipated.  Fortunately we were not saddled with debt so it was manageable.   

It turned out better than I had originally thought.  The lessons I learned in the Navy served me well in the accounting world as well.  Attention to detail and a good work ethic made me a good sailor and a good accountant.  I was focused on the job and the company.  I attributed my eventual success to that strong work ethic.  I rose up through the ranks of the company rather quickly and now find myself in charge of the regional accounting department. 

I love the job, and for the most part, genuinely like the people with I work with.  I do not like getting calls in the middle of the night reminding me that I also have a family that needs me and my time as well. 

            Don’t misunderstand me.  I want to be with them.  It’s just that I would rather be at home making my wife and children happy instead of being reminded, yet again, that I had let them down, all the while knowing I have this audit to complete before the end of the month.  There has got to be a way for me to get out from under this heavy load!

            All of this is flashing through my mind as my lovely wife reminds me of my shortcomings as a father and a husband. 

            I admit, I am only partially paying attention at this point but, in my defense, I have heard this all before, several times in fact.  Well, that is until she catches me off guard: “You do remember that we’re going to my parents this weekend right?” 

            Long drawn out pause on my end leads her to explode.  “I knew it!”  She blew up!  “I always have to remind you about what is going on in this family.  I don’t care what is going on in the office!  We are leaving bright and early Friday morning as you promised!”  Now she is yelling. “Dave, the kids are looking forward to it and so am I.  Plus, you need the rest.  You’ve been working too hard and could use the break. Aren’t you looking forward to some fishing and spending time with Dad?” 

            She’s right again on all points.  I was looking forward to it, but like most things, it had snuck up on me.  I now realized that I had to get this audit done by the time I left the office tomorrow due to the long weekend for George Washington’s birthday.  Oh well, I would have to come in early tomorrow and then stay a little after work to wrap it up.  As long as there weren’t any other unexpected problems it should all work out.

            “OK honey, thank you for bringing me back to earth.  I’m leaving right now.  Is there anything you need me to pick up on the way home?”  I asked her as my eyes focused on the picture on the corner of my desk.  It had been taken how long ago?  Was it possible that three years had already gone by?  Aidan and Summer were on each side of Debbie and they were all making funny faces.  The picture had been taken on the dock behind her parent’s vacation house on the lake.  That had been a great vacation.  That was the reason it was on the desk.  No matter how bad the day was it always brought a smile to his face.  It did so this time as well.

            “No,” Debbie replied “just come home Dave.” 

The resignation in her voice hurt me deep inside.   After all this time I still loved her with all my heart.

            “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”  I tell her as I start to hang up the phone.

            “Dave?”

            “Yes dear?”

            “Don’t open the file again.  Just get up and come home.”  she said.

            “I promise.  I love you,”  I tell her.  The pause that followed made me very uncomfortable.

            “Me too.”  She finally said without a lot of conviction.

            “I’ll see you in a little while,”  I said in closing.

            Debbie said “See you soon.”

            I looked over the spreadsheet that had held my undivided attention for the better part of the last twelve hours and wondered, yet again, where things had gone so wrong.  The economy could not account for the negative yield by itself.  What was behind the dip?   I hoped the trend I felt that I was onto was not true.  Something did not add up and when that had happened in the past it was because someone had tried to cover something up.  I really hoped that was not the case here. 

            Bob had been with the company for as long as I had.  I knew his family. 

I hoped there were other reasons for the disparities I was seeing.  Oh well, that was a knot to keep worrying at tomorrow. 

            I closed the file and put it into the filing cabinet and locked it for the night.

Fortunately, at this hour, traffic was light and I made it home in twenty minutes. 

As I pulled up to our comfortable house in our comfortable neighborhood and pressed the button on the garage door opener for our two car garage, I couldn’t help but feel some pride in what I had achieved. 

            To say I came from meager beginnings was saying a lot.  I had lived on my own since I was fifteen.  I worked two jobs at a time and also did odd jobs just to make ends meet.  I was able to put myself through high school but knew going to college was out of my reach.  My grades were not up to scholarship level and to be honest that was because I did not put as much effort into studying as I could have.  But, then again, I was working a lot, and there simply was no time to spare. 

            One day a friend of mine told me that he had decided to join the Navy.  I had never thought much past high school but immediately felt that this was worth looking into further.  I saw the Navy as a way to get me out of that small town in the Mid-West.  I had no idea where I wanted to go but I felt that my future was somewhere out there, yet unknown but I could feel it calling to me strongly. 

            Now here I stand, a grown man with a wife, two kids, and a mortgage. 

            I said to myself, “You’ve done alright kid”.

            Walking into the house I could hear the sound of the TV coming from the family room and a low bass beat coming from one of the bedrooms upstairs.  That would be Summer listening to her current favorite group up in her bedroom.  I knew it was not Aidan because he preferred to listen to his music on his headphones. 

            I hung my coat up in the closet in the foyer and set my satchel down in its usual spot.  I took off my shoes and put on my slippers.  Debbie insisted on not wearing outside shoes in the house.  Over the years it had become a part of the normal routine for all of us.  Routines can be rewarding she would remind me.  In this case I had to agree with her.  The carpet sure did wear better since she insisted on the new rule.  New rule huh?  That was over fifteen years ago now.  Aidan was just starting to crawl and she was concerned about keeping the floor as clean as possible.  The rule had stuck and now it was just another part of our daily life.

            I went into the family room and kissed Debbie on the back of the neck.  At thirty nine she was still the most beautiful woman I knew.  I often wondered what she ever saw in me.  Not that I ask that question out loud or too often less she start to wonder the same thing.  Although lately I fear she has been asking herself that very question. 

            It’s not that she’s doing anything really differently.  There just seems to be a kind of coolness settling in between us. Where before there was a burning desire between us, now there was a softly glowing ember.  That would be normal and even welcome except that we were not reaching for each other anymore.  The little things are what make a marriage strong.  Little things like a touch while passing, reaching across the table over breakfast while making a point, the simple desire to touch each other, to be in touch with each other.  That desire seems to have gone into a hiatus.  I still hold out the hope that it is only a temporary one.

            The mostly empty bottle of Moscato on the table and the nearly empty glass in her beautiful hand tell me that she is really upset.

            As I sit down on our brown leather couch, that in my opinion cost way too much and in her opinion is very stylish, although, I must admit, it still is very comfortable even after ten years so I guess it was a good investment.  I look at her and say “I’m sorry”. 

            She knows me too well.  Raising an eyebrow she asks, “What is it that you are sorry about?” 

            I decide to plunge right in and get to the truth at the very heart of the matter, at least in my opinion.  “I am sorry that I’m not here more for you or for the kids.” 

            Debbie looks me right in the eye and surprises me by saying: “Forget about me Dave!  The kids are getting older fast and you are missing out on things.  These are things that you cannot get back!  As much as they say they understand, it still hurts them when they can’t share these things with their Dad.  Listen, I know that you didn’t have a Dad that you could lean on but these kids do!  It’s just that you are so busy at work that you are not there for them.  Don’t get me wrong, you are providing for them very well financially and materially.  That’s great!  But they need more from you.  They need you!!  Ok, don’t forget about me because I need you too!  I know we have talked about this a lot but damn it you need to do something about working all of this extra time!  Nobody else does it.  Why do you need to?”

            Well . . .? ?  Why do I need to?  I have good people that know what they are doing that work for me.  Why am I the one that always stays late and comes in early?  Ok, part of it, to be honest, is because it is what I have always done.  It’s a habit I have fallen into.  But the question is: Do I NEED to do it?  I need to really look at this from a different perspective. 

Once the audit is done and I am ready for the meeting and things settle down again. 

            No, No, NO!  That’s just a stalling tactic. 

I need to take the time to assess my job, not only what I am officially assigned to do in my position but also all of the little things that I take care of as well. 

            Maybe I should delegate some of it.  Am I keeping things too close to the chest and possibly stifling the progression of those under me?  Or should I hire someone new to take on the extra work that has crept on me and maybe others in the department as well.  Definitely this is something I need to look into seriously.

            With that settled, at least in my mind, I told Debbie that I would seriously look at it.  I could tell by the surprised and somewhat dubious look on her face that she was hopeful yet cautious. 

            I couldn’t blame her. I had made promises like this before only to have the same old pattern re-emerge in short order.

            I didn’t like seeing the look of doubt cloud her beautiful face and I promised her in my heart that I would follow through this time.  For some reason I felt that this time it was more important than ever before.

            With that settled, at least for now, we settled into a comfortable night together.  Well, somewhat together.  I ate the leftovers which she had thoughtfully left in the oven to keep warm while Summer continued to enjoy whatever new music group she was into and Aidan likely was either reading or studying in their respective rooms. 

            Debbie took up her place on the couch again with her stockinged feet tucked under her still attractive posterior.  I loved the way she curled up like a cat.  She had no idea how attractive she was just sitting there like that.  Lately it seemed that it was the only time that she looked like she was relaxed.  She really looked like the girl that I fell in love with back in school.

All in all, it was a comfortable evening. 

            I tried to deny the differences that had crept into our relationship.  It used to be that she would cuddle up to me and enjoy watching whatever was on the television.  Lately however we had fallen into a more distant relationship, not cold exactly but not close either. 

This was something that I was growing more and more uncomfortable with.  The sad thing was that I knew I was at fault.  She had made strides to keep our relationship interesting.  We still enjoyed our date night, even if it had gone from once a week to once a month or so.  We were both busy!  Even so, I felt us drifting apart and vowed to do something about it this time.

            As we settled into bed I had hopes of us coming closer together.  I was surprised at how much I craved her touch right then.  I knew it was not to be as she quickly reached up and turned off her light then turned her back to me.  I contented myself with reading up on the Wall Street Journal.  Not exactly dull but not the scintillating night I had fantasized about while sitting on the couch.

            Sleep came slowly and not exactly restful.  I kept going over whether I had created my own monster.  Did I really need to work so much?  Could I be more efficient and thus spend more time with the family that I loved with all my heart?  I chased these thoughts throughout the night without any clear resolution, until I looked at the digital readout that was mocking my tired eyes at 5:15.  I resolved to get a head-start on the day.

            Planting my feet on the wood floor never failed to make me smile.  When we were deciding on how to design the house I left most of the decisions up to Debbie.  Officially we agreed that since she was going to be home more than me due to her taking care of the kids, then she should have more of an input on the house.  Unofficially, and more honestly, it was due to her being much better at designing a good home than I was. 

            One thing that I would not budge over though was having a real wood floor in the dining room and the master bedroom.  She argued with me about putting her feet on a cold floor in the morning.  We solved this with a simple yet creative solution.  She picked out a rug.  In truth, she did not fight me very much over it. 

            I really enjoyed feeling something real that was mine.  On top of that, the temperature difference helped to wake me up. 

            I walked into the bathroom to go through my morning routine.  Push-ups, brush teeth, push-ups, shave, push-ups, get on scale.  How could I have gained two pounds since yesterday?  I tried to tell myself that it was muscle weight. 

            Self answered: Bullshit!  Self called it like it was.

There was no way that starting back to doing push-ups yesterday and this morning produced two pounds of muscle.  Now, the piece of chocolate cake after lunch that was a possibility. 

Stepping into the shower I turned on the water.  Debbie always turned the water on first to let it warm up.  I liked to feel the cold water first.  It felt refreshing and really woke me up.  I still took “Navy” showers.  It was a habit that had been ingrained into me.  Plus I still thought that it made a lot of sense.  Get wet then turn off the water to soap up then turn it back on to rinse off.  Some habits never wear off I guess. Plus there was only so much fresh water.  Why waste it?