August 19, 2012

Steinbeck's Nobel Speech

Saw this today and had to share it: Steinbeck's Nobel Speech. 

Also puts me in mind of what has happened with the band Pussy Riot in Russia (follow the link, for real).

Let's never underestimate the power and responsibility of words, especially when expressed through art.





August 05, 2012

New Toolbox & A Borrowed Mantra

I've been obsessing over my new writing program, Scrivener (for Windows). If you've never tried it, I recommend giving it a go (you can get a free 30 day trial here)!

As with anything, there is a learning curve. But, I now have ALL of my notes (from 2009 through last night's 3:00am wake-up-with-an-idea scribble), all my pictures, all my lists, all my music, all the tools, (not to mention the actual manuscript) in one big glorious toolbox that I can navigate with ease. With ease, people! And it's so nice not have my desk caked with yellow post-its anymore.

A new toy can be a distraction. But, it can also be an inspiration. I've been watching a lot of tutorials and playing around with the program and, as with the 7 Sentence Story Test from my last post, I found areas that need some attention. Just by setting up the scrivener file.

If nothing else, learning something new makes you use your brain. The brain is lazy, it loves assumptions. "Don't worry, AJ," it says, "There are no causality issues in your outline. Just keep going and you'll be fine."  Until I hit those issues and am knocked on my ass. Learning something new, doing something new, is like a storm-warning blast to the brain. It resists, but then it starts to hum and jump, and before you know it, you're solving problems that save you from that ass-hitting-pavement moment.

Learning, doing, something we've never done before (like writing a damn novel!) is hard. But you know what? It is fun. And it's noble. As Phedre no Delaunay learned, "All knowledge is worth having."

So I will leave you with this. I watch it. OFTEN. It gets me inspired, every time.


 
zefrank.com

PS: Someday, BoyChild is going to ask me what I wanted to be when I  grew up. My answer will be "a writer". Then he'll ask, "Then why aren't you a writer, Mommy?" I refuse to accept that my answer could be, "Because I never tried."
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