Overall, my bottom line rule for writing, as I mentioned in my blog last week, is “Whatever works.” Some writers, professional writers, do not write every day. (I think Ann Patchett has described herself as one who does not.) Sometimes one must stop and plan ahead or revise. Sometimes one has to go to the doctor. Some writers write in bursts.

I have not yet written today. The kids woke up in the night and I couldn’t get back to sleep even when they did. For an hour or so around 2 a.m., I read (A.S. Byatt, a quiet, brilliant book called Still Life that has hooked me without a driving plot, or with a subtle one attached to the span of life itself). My usually high, but now quite deflated morning energy had to be spent catching up with my students’ and clients’ weekend emails. Then it was time to edit others’ books and then to write this newsletter.

But in November, I always write 1667 words each day with NaNoWriMo. I can’t quite tell you how. It is a combination of determination, goal setting, avoidance of public humiliation, the impetus of the group, and the deep connection to the story that is forged by regular contact and forward momentum.

And I have been realizing that what my teachers told me in college, what writers often say to their students, is true: you must write every day if you do not want to stay an amateur. You don’t have to write well or gladly. You have only to write daily. Make it a habit. Build muscles from rote routine. Stop making it a choice, an option, a chance. Stop looking for inspiration from within or goading from without. Use whatever best time of day you have, if you can; try to stay well rested and well fed and well loved. But if none of that is possible, write anyway. Write anyway.

Despite the world’s tragedies and minor interruptions or because of them, despite the demands of your family, your friends, your social network or because of them: write anyway. This will be my new mantra, and I urge it on you as well: write anyway.

When I am teaching (as I am all the time now), I tend to think more conversationally than when I am abiding inside my head, spinning tales. Lately, it seems there’s been a lot I’ve wanted to share that’s excited  and inspired me. Here are three of those items:

1) Haruki Murakami’s memoir, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

At first, I was almost disappointed in the fit-of-my-shoes and tracking-of-miles-run-in-a-month mundanity of the book. But after I finished it, the full impact of his practice as a runner, his inevitable decline in the face of the body’s mortality, but his perseverance nonetheless, gave me the triumvirate of the writer’s being: the brain (lover of plot and planning, of revision, perfection and an impossible certainty), the storyteller (crazy, intuition-driven, passionate troubadour, who can do everything you hope and more if the brain will shut up), and now, the athlete. This is the writer who knows that how it feels to get the words down is irrelevant. The key is to put in the miles, to go the distance, to establish and maintain daily routines.

2) Robert A. Heinlein’s Five “Rules for Writing.”

1) You must write.

2) You must finish what you write.

3) You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.

4) You must put the work on the market.

5) You must keep the work on the market until it is sold.

In a remarkable little essay, Robert J. Sawyer then takes us through each rule, showing us how fully half of all people who want to be writers fail to follow each rule. He adds a sixth, too.

(I’ll spend more time on this at another point, but let me say here that knowing what it means for a particular work to be finished—Rule #2—will make it possible, I think, to follow Rule #3 with success and a sense of integrity.)

3) A writer friend forwarded a “weekly reflection” from Mark Nepo about the long and material apprenticeship various cultures expect of their various artists and craftspeople. A perfect counterpoint to Heinlein’s light-a-fire-under-your-derriere Rules, Nepo’s gentle reminder pointed to a love of the process, of making progress rather than arriving. It’s not on his web site, but a bunch of his writing and information about him is there.

Every month, I host a FREE Answers and Encouragement for Writers Call on the third Thursday.

Here’s how the calls work:

1) You register by clicking here (easy peasey) and get a phone number and a pin.

2) You call at the appointed time–Thursday, Oct. 15, 5 p.m. PST.

3) I am there, brimming with ideas about your writing success. We talk. Feel stuck? Think that your problem may not even be able to be put into words, let alone cured? Talk to me. Seriously. I love this stuff.

4) You leave the call inspired, knowing your next step, excited to get back to your writing.

You can check out past calls–download ‘em as mp3s–under the FREE STUFF FOR WRITERS section on my site.

There are several reasons why these calls work to engender your success:

1) Just getting out of your head and putting your struggles before others moves you forward. You find that you are not alone. You hear some different approaches. You remember that writing, too, is a conversation.

2) Saying a goal or desire out loud is second only to writing it down. I just picked up a book my mom was reading (by those Chicken Soup guys, sure–but they have found a measure of success, a measure in the millions, if you want to count that way), and in the passage I read, they said, Think about a goal that you were crystal clear you wanted five years ago. Chances are, you have that today. And I thought, Five years ago, I knew I wanted to have kids, a family. Knew it. Would do almost anything to get it and wanted it more than anything else. And lo and behold! I’m overrun with two-year-olds. So pick up the phone and work some wanting-it-bad mojo on yourself.

3) I don’t have formulas. This is a creative art, folks, and the best way I can help you is to talk to you, suss out what thrills you and what moves you and help you get on and stay on the path toward that–and not on any other path. Not on my path, for example, which is where a lot of reader/ writers will accidentally guide you. It’s about clearing your path, clearing your vision.

Okay, I’ve posted some testimonials on my site, if you want to hear it from someone else.

Finally, I hear from some folks who don’t like telephone conferences, but I want to say that this is something else altogether. This is more like National Public Radio, like Michael Krazny’s Forum when people call in, say. Who doesn’t like listening to that?

Atchity and Me

I am writing this off the top of my medicated head as I recover from wisdom-teeth extraction, so take it with a grain of ibuprofen and go get Kenneth Atchity’s great book A Writer’s Time for yourself. I began teaching my Book Writing Cycle (BWC) this week, and one of the techniques I am recommending is based on Atchity’s use of index cards. I’m going to explain something about this system, as I’ve applied it to my own projects. Recently, I’ve switched over to Scrivener, so that my index cards are computerized. We’ll see how that goes . . . (My To Do List is also computerized, has been for a year or so, and I’m still on the fence about it . . .)

The Math

The idea with the index cards is that you will gather up a bunch of them, doing exploratory and then focused research (which, for fiction, and even memoir, is already a lot more open than for non-fiction), and then organize them, and then use them as stepping stones when you write your first draft.

Since my BWC participants are all going to write a full manuscript in seven weeks, in November (as part of NaNoWriMo) and for three weeks in December, they have (coincidentally) seven weeks from today to collect their cards. So the first thing to do is the math. Let’s say you want to write a 300-page manuscript (at 300 words/ page, that’s 90,000 words). And let’s say you want 2 cards to carry you across each page. You’re going to need 600 cards to write the manuscript. But not all cards you create will survive to your final stack (more on that soon), so you aim for, say 700 cards. You can toss 100 and still have enough.

Including today, there are 50 days until Nov. 1—manuscript launch day. In all fairness, Atchity gives twice this much time to research and doubles the number of cards per page to four (though he’s more flexible for fiction), but we’re working in an accelerated timeframe. That’s part of the fun and challenge of NaNoWriMo and the BWC.

So: in order to gather 700 index cards before Nov. 1, starting today, you have to create 14 cards/ day.

The Cards

What the heck is on these cards?

For the “expansion” phase, Atchity has you wandering in the stacks of the library, making your way through various books and interviewing people, too. Interviewing for fiction is fun—more focus on quirks and sensate detail than just the facts. I also make my way through books on writing—currently John Truby’s The Anatomy of Story, for example—and use the suggestions and exercises in there to spur ideas that go on cards.

When you sort the cards in preparation for the focused part of your research, Atchity suggests that you be sure you have enough dialog, action and setting cards. So those are three good categories to focus on. Character cards are important, too. I also have notes like, “Maybe Lucy and Magdalena went to high school together and the whole pink elephant scene happened between them.” A lot of my cards start, “What if . . .?” What if Lucy were writing a book about Magdalena’s ex-husband? What if Edward and Magdalena already had kids? What if Magdalena’s trouble about the truth of her book happened at the same time as Edward’s job sent him to Israel? Some of my cards contradict each other. At the gathering phase, I’m not worrying about that. More will be revealed. Always. As long as you keep wondering and writing down your notes.

In essence, if our job as writers is to ask questions whose answers we do not know and then to answer those questions, index cards, those neat, open, blank spaces, give us the tiles in which we begin to explore answers. Something from nothing, here on this 5 x 7 rectangle. It’s manageable and exciting at the same time. You have a blank stack of cards, 14 cards, and some bit of time in front of you. So you make notes. You turn to the world, you turn to your imagination, you spark ideas—and you write them down. That’s it. There’s a lot of intuition and trusting of your storyteller in this system.

Here’s another metaphor: the index cards are firewood you are gathering from the floors of the forests where you wander. When you write, you will burn your way through them to keep things hot.

About half, or two-thirds, of the way through your card gathering phase, you take stock of what you have and what you need. You need more information about Edward’s journey to Israel. You need more about Magdalena’s book and Lucy’s motivation. You need more dialog cards. Whatever. The last phase of your gathering, what Atchity calls “Contraction” is about filling in the gaps.

The System

And so, the day arrives when you have your 700 cards. (Atchity gives you days to sort and road-map with vacation days in between. Again, for BWC folks we are modifying this system so that we can jump in and write like crazy.)

Atchity’s rule is “NO THINKING” for the first part of the sorting. Here you are making two piles: Yes or No. You ask yourself, Is this card dramatic or not? Will it create a memorable scene or image or not? Yes or no? He suggests you go through the entire pile once and then quickly again, to be sure you got it right or to adjust.

The next stage of sorting is into piles. First card goes into its own pile. Does the second card join it or begin a new pile? Go through all the cards, creating piles. Then go through them again, correcting and confirming and looking for ways to combine piles. He suggests putting rubber bands around your piles, so you can then move them around, looking for a natural order—beginning, middle and end—to your novel. Somewhere in the book, he also suggests that you order the middle of your book into “beginning, middle and end,” and do this as many times as you need to keep the middle taut.

Basically, he’s applying non-fiction research and writing methods to fiction, allowing for a lot more open, loose application of the techniques. If you stop needing the cards, he urges you to let them go and keep writing. They will be there as a roadmap if you lose your way or your momentum.

Order and Creativity

I was a strange child. I make up plays and played dress-up and wrote stories, but I also loved filling in the blanks in notebooks. Atchity’s well-organized system reassures me. In the end, I will move back and forth between the plan and my own urges and intuitions. But note, the plan itself is based largely on intuition. Having a structure creates a pathway for your intuition. It gives you a way to begin that does not ask you to know where something belongs or how it will become a book. It gives you a way to proceed until you have a book.

Janet Thornburg is the author of a collection of short stories, Rhurbarb Pie (from Thunderegg Press). She teaches at City College of San Francisco and performs solo shows known for their hilarity. This is her experience of last year’s Book Writing Cycle:

One day last fall when I was checking my email at work, between a penis-enlargement ad and an update of my American Express balance, I found a message from Elizabeth Stark about her upcoming NaNoWriMo classes.  She offered preparation, support, and follow-up for writers bold enough to commit to writing 50,000 words in the month of November.  I’d been tinkering with dead-end revisions of a novella for a year, and the idea of writing 50,000 NEW words in one month made my mouth water. “Sign me up!” I emailed back to her.

I’m the kind of writer who polishes the beginning of a story for weeks and then has to discard it as soon as the real story gets rolling.  I routinely sit and fret over a word for twenty minutes and then scratch the whole sentence.  I spin my wheels and then whine because I don’t have time to finish anything.  Taking on a challenge like NaNoWriMo seemed like it would either break me of those habits or kill me.

If I’d tried it on my own, I would have written thirteen beginnings, scrapped them, quit, and said it was a ridiculous idea anyway.  However, because Elizabeth was coaching and encouraging me and because my fellow students were consoling and inspiring me in our group Skype gatherings, I learned at last the skill of pressing onward in spite of imperfection.  I learned how to write a first draft through to the end.  A HUGE first draft.  I found new kinds of writers in myself–dogged, sloppy, sleepy, wacky, wildly intuitive writers who all worked together for just one goal: to make that day’s quota of words.

I finished 50,000 in thirty days.  It was a glorious writing coup.  I highly recommend Elizabeth’s classes.  Amaze your friends and family.  Amaze yourself.  Write 50,000 words in November.  Whew!  Did I REALLY do that?

Want to do it, too? Sign up here.

David Woolbright is a Professor of Computer Science at Columbus State University in Columbus, Georgia.  A mathematician by training, he’s taken a couple of writing classes over the years at Davidson College and Oxford University. Last year, he wrote a novel. I’ve read the first couple of chapters, and it’s really good. Here’s what it was like to accomplish this:

I didn’t expect to write a novel.   And I only had a couple of vague ideas in the back of my head about possible novel topics when I signed up for Elizabeth’s first writing course at the suggestion of a friend.  I did have some free time, and I thought her course might help me learn how to build a plot for a short story, or perhaps a first novel that I might write sometime in the future.

I really had no idea that the first course was preparatory to writing a novel in the 2008 NaNoWriMo write-fest.  So when Elizabeth suggested we decide on a topic for the novel that we would write in November, I complied, but I never seriously believed there would be enough time to complete such an ambitious project.  I would enjoy the first, preparatory course and bow out.

Somewhere during that first course I changed my mind.  I found the writing exercises that Elizabeth prescribed were just what I needed to free a creative urge which I had long ignored and suppressed.  Amazingly, I learned to build a plot – and not simply the plot of a short story, but the plot of a full-length novel.

The online community of fellow writers who were enrolled in the course was especially encouraging.  We cheered each other on in our virtual classroom.  By the end of the month I decided to take the NaNoWriMo plunge and write a novel.  It was now or never.  Stopping at that point would have meant letting down my classmates and myself.

November was grueling.  Writing sixteen hundred words a day is not easy to do.  But I did it.   And in doing it, I learned that the most important thing is to keep writing and never look back.  Send your inner editor on vacation until the task is done.  Edit later.  I wrote so many words in November!  When I reread the novel it was like reading something that another person had written.  I didn’t remember much of it.  The interesting thing is that I liked what I was reading.  It was far from perfect, but I wasn’t embarrassed by it.  In fact, I was proud of it.

I can highly recommend Elizabeth’s courses as a way to get moving, no matter what  your level of expertise as a writer.  She has an amazing literary sensibility that you can leverage for your own work.  Her courses are crafted with just the right number of exercises, phone calls, and encouraging words.  The sequence of courses flow seamlessly to help lead you to a finished work.

I wrote a novel last November – looking back I find it hard to believe, but I did it.

Amy Truncale is a self-described “wife and mother in the Bay Area who loves to write and dream.” She dreamed up an amazing story last year, and here she tells us about the experience of writing a book in less time than it takes to make a baby:

Last year I wrote a novel in the month of November during the annual NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I was seven months pregnant and had been stuck on a book I started writing six years before. I hadn’t even looked at it in a couple of years, so I decided to write it over from scratch without referencing the old material in any way. I wanted my original inspiration back.

NaNo sounded challenging, fun, scary, impossible and wonderful, and it inspired me. A door banged open in my soul with the fresh air of possibility. That may sound a bit dramatic, but the thought of doing NaNo made my eyes wide with anticipation. It was an opportunity I had to take. There was another very important reason I wanted to undertake this task at that time. Simply put, I wanted my daughter (still in utero at this point) to have a mother that would model having the courage to do what she loves. That was a powerful motivation for me. I’m wise enough to know that she’s much more likely to do what I do, rather than what I say. So with that arsenal up my sleeve, I set out on a journey of creativity.

As I mentioned previously, I had been stuck in my writing for a long time. I needed to do something different, something I had never tried before. I had employed different techniques to move my writing forward in the past but always seemed to end up in the same place – inertia. I was looking for a new internal paradigm. NaNo happens in the 30 days of every November. Coincidentally, it is said that it takes 30 days to break a bad habit and replace it with a healthier one. I wrote a never-ending river of words last November that created a new mental pathway. The flow of momentum broke through little dams of dry twigs (I’m stuck) and brambles (I don’t know how to do this), rats’ nests (I can’t) and garbage that was previously creating blocks and distractions, making it difficult to write anything. Plus, I gained confidence as I experienced success! The goal was to write 50,000 words, and I did that. It doesn’t say to write 50,000 perfect words that create perfect sentences that make a national bestseller (although that possibility is open to you), it just says 50,000 + new words, period (well, not just random words – but you know what I mean).

In retrospect it still amazes me how easy I was on myself during this process. I always thought taking on a commitment like this would be painful, that I would have to chain myself to the desk and force myself to do it at knife point, sweat beading on my brow. Maybe being pregnant had something to do with this new gentle feeling towards myself. It forced me to slow down and take it easier than I ever had.

All I did each day was read what I had written the day before and then keep going. I did not critique anything. Previously crippled by my perfectionist left brain, I embraced the idea that it could be as bad as it needed to be – and sometimes it really was – but occasionally it was even good. My main goal was to KEEP GOING, not to write well. I had never let myself off the hook this way before. It was more than a revelation. Once I had accomplished the goal of just getting words on the page, I could shift my focus to creating quality through revision.

There are many books on writing on the market. I know because I own quite a few of them. There is some great advice for how to go about writing a book, yet most concede there is no direct ‘how to’ guide. I suppose it’s because of the nature of novel writing; that is, it is a different path for everyone. What Elizabeth Stark has created in her Book Writing Cycle is nothing short of revolutionary, and I have never heard of anything else like it. I honestly could never have done it without the support of this class/group, specifically designed to coincide with NaNoWriMo. It’s a tremendous resource for writers, and I am grateful to be a part of it. Writing a novel is about following your dreams. Whether the path is symbolically straight as an arrow, meandering through meadows or jumping into the abyss with arms stretched like an eagle, all that matters is that you take a step, and then another…

Gretchen Atwood took part in the Book Writing Cycle last year. She blogs about “Sports Race Politics America” and has written a profound and important book (see below).

Last year I wrote the first draft of The Lost Championship Season, my nonfiction book about the racial integration of pro football in 1946, with the help of Elizabeth Stark’s classes and National Novel Writing Month. I can’t remember most of the details of that experience and for that I heartily credit both Elizabeth and the wonderful folks at NaNoWriMo.

Let me explain.

Early last fall I had been lurching this way and that trying to get traction with the draft of my book. I am a hard-headed midwesterner and thus prone to both “go it alone” on projects and beat my head against a wall with the fervent belief that if I just keep adding more effort to a goal I will get there.

Turns out I was wrong. For some people writing works as a completely solitary pursuit but I needed more. I needed structure, community, and inspiration. The Book Writing Cycle and NaNoWriMo provided that.

NaNoWriMo identifies one of the biggest blocks to actually finishing a draft–worrying that it isn’t good enough as you go and shouldn’t I really tweak that section more before moving on?–and bludgeons it with a sledgehammer. The only rule? Hit your word count. Doesn’t matter how good it is, how much you’ll rewrite it later, whether you’ll cut the entire scene or say, “Screw writing!” and join a convent afterward. Just get the words out and move on to the next day. Don’t look back, don’t hit the brakes, just write.

So 1667 words a day was my goal. And Elizabeth’s daily check-ins, weekly phone calls, and online message boards were the perfect complements to NaNoWriMo. I could have tried NaNoWriMo by myself and I would have failed. Why? No additional structure and accountability, no community of writers to struggle with and be inspired by. My goal of completing a draft had now been committed to other people. I loathed the idea of failing in front of my peers. And I got great suggestions from Elizabeth and the other writers when I got stuck. We even developed some friendly competition and gently egged each other on to greater accomplishments than we would have achieved otherwise.

And the exercises, though geared toward fiction, were a great help to my writing as well. The essentials of good storytelling apply whether doing narrative nonfiction or fiction…compelling characters, tension, movement (action or emotional), etc. The exercises helped me increase narrative tension (both within a scene or within a segment of the story), address weaknesses in the pacing of my book, craft compelling scenes and improve the dialogue. Sure, I couldn’t make up whatever I wanted to but I could choose to describe someone’s conflicted actions or draw attention to what he/she did *not* say in a similar way a fiction writer could.

I don’t remember the specifics of the day-to-day writing of that first draft because I achieved the mindset of “whatever happens, keep writing” and so I did. I hit snags and I wrote some strong passages and it all just kept flowing into the draft. To this day it is one of the writing accomplishments I am most inspired by. Sure, finishing a book is also challenging. But getting the first draft done, in a month no less, shows how incredibly *possible* writing a book really is.

Devi Laskar is an old friend of mine from graduate school. She took last year’s Book Writing Cycle course: planning, writing and revising an amazing novel. (I just got to read a good chunk of it, and I was blown away. You’re sure to get a chance to read it yourself in a few years when it’s a NYTimes bestseller. You heard it here first.) While Devi has not one but two master’s degrees, including an M.F.A. in Writing from Columbia University, she faced her own challenges while writing an entire book last year, as you shall see:

I think moms are some of the most creative, resourceful people on Earth. They are able to multi-task (it is practically a prerequisite of being a modern mother to be able to talk on the phone, make a sandwich, change a diaper and tie a shoe simultaneously!) and accomplish so much for their families during the day. Every day. But it is a thankless job and if you’re successful at it, you’re taken for granted. Unfortunately, it is the same in the vast world of creative writing – some of us are able to multi-task and get “things” done but we (the writers) often take ourselves for granted at the end of the day, and leave our most creative ideas swirling inside our heads and not on the page.
As a mom of three girls, I have found it to be challenging to get my brilliant future-Pulitzer-prize winning thoughts on to the page some years. Yep, I said it: years. When my oldest was merely an only child, I was writing so much – especially when she took naps and at night when she was asleep. I was organized, I was motivated, I was in charge. I was making time for myself, even if that time meant a half-hour here and a half-hour there. A few years later, I had three little girls and I was lost in the vacuum of diaper duty and late-night feedings, and chained to the vacuum cleaner, too.
My daughters are now a little bit older, they go to school and I’m back to writing again. It is a matter of consistency. Just like we make time to eat and sleep and take showers, we writers must make time to write. I was very proud of my family last year when I told them I was going to participate in NaNoWriMo – they knew I had to write 1,700 words a day and they left me alone for those few hours when I did it. If they caught me slacking off, they’d offer me alternatives: “Hey mom, can you fix A….” or ,“Hey mom, can you make B….” or, “Hey mom, why don’t you drive me to C…” and quickly I’d scurry back to my writing table and churn out more sentences. I finished NaNoWriMo, got my 50,000+ words and gained so much more confidence – I felt I could go back to older projects that had been languishing in my desk drawer and finally finish them.
I feel the Book Writing Cycle was a real asset. It was great to be on a schedule and to have a community to commiserate with – we checked in with each other frequently and our conference calls with Elizabeth helped immensely. I felt as though I started friendships, and the course helped me to focus on the book at hand.
And that leads to me to my most important point: it’s about quality, really, not quantity (although if you have both, it’s great to have both). There are plenty of writers out there who are lucky enough to be writing full-time and they are constantly stuck. If you are a busy mother, like me, eek out that 30 minutes or one hour during the day and make it YOUR TIME. Put it on the schedule of your busy day, sometime right after the early morning shower and before the dinner dishes are put away. Start slow. Buy a cheap spiral notebook and a pull out a ballpoint pen that comes in a package of ten. Tell yourself that all you have to do today is write 10 sentences in the notebook, and then you can go do something else. After a month, you’ll find your notebook is full and you have a wonderful go-to source of inspiration that’s all your own.

The following is the letter I wrote to the brave group of folks who started–and yes, finished–books with me last fall. I thought it might be useful to anyone gearing up to write a book. If you want to join my group, check it out HERE.

Dear Book Writers,

Why a Frame? Why are we starting with plot (and character)?

It has been my experience that the hardest thing to go back and put into a novel after it’s written is a strong plot based on a deep sense of character. In other words, actions must grow out of the motivations and psychology of your character.

Now, you can create a character who will, by nature, do the actions required of him or her in your plot, OR you can create a plot that grows, naturally, out of the will of your character. In either way, you want a character with some serious motivation and a backbone (even if it’s initially hidden from us or from him- or her-self).

Writers can work for years on books, so there are very many things one could do in preparation for writing a manuscript. In fact, I urge you to write at least a page every day where you are just thinking on paper (or on screen) about your novel. Writing about writing is actually a much more powerful planning tool than simply thinking about writing. It’s the power of the keyboard or the pen–the power, if you will, of writing.

In these pages, you can think about your characters’ histories, about the setting of your novel, about images that move you, fragments of the world that inspire you. Think about the underlying idea or theme that drives your story.
By the same measure, when you are writing 1670 plus words a day in November, you will be thinking and writing about these things all the time. That’s what’s so powerful about NaNoWriMo and the writing life itself. Right now you are tilling the fields.

Together, we are going to have three intertwined foci:
1) Building a strong, logical, exciting plot
2) Based on a motivated, backboned, interesting character
3) While revving the engines by inspiring each other and addressing any real questions or fears.

For some of you, this may be so effective that you will always use this approach in all future books that you write. For others, you may learn that you want to start with place or imagery, that your plot grows more naturally from an exploration of other material. For now, I ask you simply to respond to all the challenges: to try. Anything you do will move you further down the path of your writing life, which is to say, the project of creating worlds.

JOIN THE BOOK WRITING CYCLE HERE.

Warmly,

Elizabeth