Elizabeth: Muffling the Inner Critic

Okay, technically I’m not suggesting you go out and get drunk as part of your daily writing practice (unless you want to, of course, or you’re channeling Hemmingway), but there is a nugget of wisdom in the quote above.

It has been suggested a time or two, by people who know me, that with the addition of a little alcohol (a modest amount, not a “hold my hair while I retch” amount), I’m ever-so-slightly more charming and delightful.  I’m not much of a drinker, so just a small amount goes a long way toward giving the world a happy / soft-focus appearance and making stress and worry step back a bit.  It also does a great job silencing that inner voice that always seems to be worried about saying something dumb or doing something embarrassing.

When it comes to writing, your version of “drunk” may mean kicking off your process by listening to your favorite playlist, relaxing in a warm bubble bath, or doing a little mind-clearing meditation.  Whatever helps you get your mind in the story, and drowns out that voice that insists on judging every word you put on the page, is a good thing.

I’m out of bubble bath, but I’ve got a nice bottle of port in the kitchen, so I’m going give it a try (for research purposes, of course).  If it doesn’t help me get some words on the page, at least I’m likely to get a good night’s sleep.

So, what ways have you found to silence your inner critic so can focus on getting words on the page?

Nancy: The Long Road Home…and a Challenge

My happy place.

My happy (if unproductive) place.

I’ve done it. I’ve survived an intense 5-month-long stint at the day job that took me away from writing, home, and pretty much everything in life outside of work. With all of that behind me, I’ve had time to catch up on some sleep, re-read some favorite books (salve on the psychic wounds), and start relearning the daily rhythm of life.

The next logical step should be a triumphant return to writing. Pent-up story should be rushing through my veins. My characters should be whispering in my ear, telling me their deepest, darkest secrets, enticing me them to get them onto paper. Right?

Turns out, none of that’s as easy as it sounds. My story brain is stuck in neutral and I just can’t get it engaged.

In addition to rest and reading, I’ve also watched story in form of favorite shows and some movies, old and new. I’ve  set up a jigsaw puzzle by the back window of the house so I can look out over the forest behind us in all its springtime glory. But while I usually hear characters’ voices while I fit together the puzzle pieces, lately I just hear silence. Or worse. Continue reading