The Hieroglyphics of Notebooks

My first serious writings go back to childhood when I kept diaries and wrote letters by hand. I loyally (well, as much as a pre-teen can) wrote to various pen pals, like my grandmother, and then sporadically used small diaries, secured by tiny locks and keys. I was a better letter writer than a diarist. My early attempts at journaling in the diaries show my self-consciousness. It still feels self-indulgent to write about myself. But, welcome to my blog (ironic wink here😉).

What I appreciate about those early writings is the demarcation of time. My age, the date, my thoughts show where my head was at. You can image at 12: "No one will ever love me for X, Y, Z reason!" Ouch.

I stopped journaling in high school and college. It wasn't until about ten years ago that I took up writing to myself in random notebooks, but those were mainly to start the novel I couldn't get out of my head. I'd take the kids' abandoned Pokeman spiral notebooks from school and re-love them. Then friends, my husband, other writers, started giving me tiny journals. I have a nice collection. I didn't become suddenly prolific though. Maybe I became more diligent at jotting the occasional gem of an idea down. There was also an index card phase (which I've recently revived), and I was not above using a crayon.

By no means do I have an astounding collection of handwritten work. What I do have are snapshots of the past. They tell me who I was at a time when I was wondering who I was. Sometimes, more often than I'd care to admit, my writing didn't go much beyond "no one will ever love me" (no winking here).

Recently, I flipped through a notebook in my drawer and picked a nearly blank one to find a poem I couldn't remember writing and the title of a book, which I've since read. Both notes to myself were several years old, both a remembrance of what was going on then, the life stuff, the good and the bad. Ironically, I just mentioned the name of the book to someone and went on to describe the gist of the story, which was darkly dystopian.

My point is: notebooks are like hieroglyphics, and mine are a mirror. Sometimes it's nice to see your old self; sometimes I wish I looked different.

Sending 2021 Out with a Swift Kick

Okay. I'll admit it. I was on Tinder this year. What an awful place. Whew, I survived and probably won't be going back. But if YOU are in the market and are an eligible bachelor who finds yourself on that (or any) humbling online dating site, here are a few words of gentle but sound advice. 

These missteps will likely reduce your sex appeal:

1. No photo

2. No introduction statement

3. Your age is ≧ 0 

4. Pictures include girlfriend OR unidentified female clinging to your neck

5. Majority of your pictures include your dog. Just your dog.

6. Head cut off in photo

7. Selfie in bathroom mirror (Does everyone think this is sexy?)

8. Toss-up, selfie in car (They sure think this is sexy!)

9. No clothes (Seriously, I saw more than I'd like.)

10. Frown or no smiling pics

11. Another toss-up, selfie with earbuds

12. All pictures include exercising

13. A third toss-up, posting pictures of feet, in socks, shoes, or bare

14. Wearing a clown costume with a blue wig. In every photo.

15. Misspelling the word “too”

16. You’re already married

17. Chastising anyone not searching for a hookup

18. Begging for a response: “C’mon ladies, swipe, please!”

19. There are more ellipses … than words … in your personal … statement.

20. Declaring: “I like to do it!”

21. Posting phone number because “If you don’t call, someone else will!”

22. Toss-up #4: Using acronyms/phrases/words requiring the use of the Urban Dictionary: ITB, sapiophile, AMA

23. Overusing emoticons ☹☹☹☹

24. Statements that life is short, so “Sister, you better take a chance on me!”

Well, I didn’t take a chance on many. I did laugh a lot. See ya, 2021. We had some fun.

Normalizing Your Writing Practice

Using trendy language and tropes generally isn't a great idea in writing. But I'll use the word "normalizing" in this post because it goes straight to the subject. If you're a writer, if you are trying to cultivate a practice while wondering what the hell you're doing, or whether what you're doing helps/hurts/accomplishes your goals, then one sure thing will support you: a writing cohort.

Sorry to use such a $2 word: cohort. It sounds academic when it's just shorthand. I'm not talking about a critique group. Those can be helpful, too, in other ways: to keep your word count up, to keep your stories honest. But a writing cohort is something more loose; it's the people you know who take their writing somewhat seriously, have produced work that actually goes out into the world for other people to consume, and who are actively working on future work to publish. These are the folks who'll normalize your experience by reflecting on their own. They're the people you'll discuss: "Here's where I'm going. How about you?" You need this conversation once in a while to "normalize" your habits/practice and not feel alone. It reminds you why you are doing what you are doing and that you aren't astray. 
 

This blog is subtitled: Notes on a Writing Life. I can't tell you how to live a "writing life." No one really can. It's as individual as your DNA. How many words you write in a day/month/year has nothing to do with your worth as a writer. "Making it" by getting an agent and a book deal may be your goal. That's all fine and good. But there are many iterations of "making it" that have nothing to do with commercial success. Success comes in many forms and by many paths. Understanding the individuality of your experience by checking in with your peers helps you to discern what's best for you.

I have some good writers in my life. Novelists. Poets. Journalists. They are incredibly interesting, dedicated, outlandish, unconventional, wonderful, decent people. I hope they get from me what I get from them. My habits, foibles, successes, and trials aren't unique. My goals are to keep writing and not stop, to write something people can enjoy and possibly learn from. Here's where I'm going. How about you?