My Evil Twin: New Orleans Notes, No. 9

I often hear people say that if they just didn’t have to earn a paycheck, if they could win the lottery or find someone to support them financially, they’d finally have time to write that novel.

I’m not sure I believe them. For one thing, I know plenty of people who write and are published even though they have other careers. For another thing, I’m an example of a person who occasionally has months at a time when I don’t work other than taking care of my home and family, and I still have trouble prioritizing and managing my writing time.

So I was quite interested in the panel I was given to moderate at Saints and Sinners in May. The topic was “Making Time For Creativity: How to Write With a Full-Time Job,” and the panelists included prolific and award-winning writers Jess Wells, Rob Byrnes, Greg Herren, and Martin Hyatt.

After I introduced the writers and made my confession about not always using my creative time for writing, Jess got the ball rolling by listing many of the things writers think we “have to do” that keep us from writing. I immediately sent guilty looks toward Tim, who was sitting on the front row, because I thought “going to the gym every day” would be one of those Who’d argue with that? time-spenders. Later, at the closing party, I told Jess we should do a panel next year called “Bitching You Into Writing,” because she’d motivated me to stop making excuses and get to work. She’s a brilliant and funny speaker, and if you ever get a chance to hear her, grab it!

Her co-panelists were equally witty and smart. Marty talked about how writers may, in a sense, be writing all the time. Even though there are periods when we’re not putting hands to keyboard, pen, or pencil, we are always observing, taking in, filtering, and reshaping information that will end up in our writing. I’ve found this to be true. It’s also been my experience that many of those things, like bad relationships and crappy jobs, that I resented over the years because I felt like they stole writing time from me, actually provided a lot of the material that I’ve used in nine novels.

Rob and I expressed differing views on “writer’s block.” I tend not to believe in it (since I do see myself as an example of Marty’s theory of “always working”), but Rob talked about some of the hindrances a writer faces, including how sometimes even though everything falls into place to give us the time and opportunity to write, the words just don’t come. I think most of us sitting up front and in the audience exhaled a huge sigh of relief when a couple of panelists simultaneously said, “And that’s okay!” Because there is no single rule that applies to all of us about how much or how often we should write. Maybe there are times we shouldn’t be writing.

One of Greg’s points about his own process is how he keeps folders of notes that include ideas he’s had, things he’s seen or heard that spark a story idea, great potential first lines, and various other jottings and phrases that he may use or turn into something. Other people who’d come to hear the panelists agreed that they do this, as well. Jim Gladstone wondered when notes for a specific piece of writing go unused, are they discarded or saved for potential later use?

After some discussion of that, Carol Rosenfeld suggested that those notes, and the words we use to develop or explore them, become a part of our writing process. It was a salient point and added to a general sense that as writers, we don’t have to feel guilty about everything we do that’s NOT writing. Doing other work, both menial and fulfilling, or extended periods of thinking about or planning our next writing project, can all fill the well of creativity that will eventually pour itself in our stories and poems and essays.

Me with Jess Wells.
Marty Hyatt during the panel.
Rob Byrnes and Greg Herren on the panel.
Jim Gladstone, S&S 2007.
Carol Rosenfeld, S&S 2006.

I had quite a good time, heard much to think about, and ultimately was glad that I, and not my Evil Twin Betsy, moderated the panel.

Independence Day

We grilled a weekend’s worth of meals on Friday so we could mostly stay inside away from the heat without using the oven this weekend. I did have errands to run, so I drove through River Oaks to see flags flying on the mansions of people who can afford to keep their lawns well-watered during the heat wave. Here are a couple of shots I liked:

Unlike certain cooperative Midwestern dogs, Guinness and Margot didn’t want to pose in t-shirts with eagles and patriotic slogans on them. Maybe they’re exercising their right to protest holidays that involve the noise of fireworks.

It’s settled

The dogs and I took a vote, and we decided that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my staying right here* with the fan blowing on us all until this heat wave goes away. Which I reckon should be late September. You only see Guinness in the photo, but Margot is under the bed in Fort Emo, and Rex is sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed awaiting Tim’s return.

*Except for going to the gym, of course.

Montrose: Bad and Good

Until Tim pointed it out to me, I wasn’t aware that one of my favorite little bungalows in Montrose is being destroyed. I was able to get a few photos before it’s gone:

In happier news, I have about two hundred photos that Tim took at the Pride parade available on Flickr for anyone who’s interested. Click here and enjoy.


The others aren’t like this, but I love the movement of this one!
Thank you so much, Tim, for manning the camera.

Happy Pride!

I fought a migraine all day Saturday, hoping to be rid of it in time to walk to Westheimer for Houston’s nighttime Pride parade. Sadly, the headache didn’t go away, and I thought the heat probably would intensify it, so I had to miss the festivities.

However, Tom and Tim went, and Tim took the Nikon. I have tons of photos to enjoy–I almost feel like I was there! Thanks, Tim.

First up, guess who was at the front of the parade? The Montrose Motorcycle Riding Club, that’s who. Which means you get to see:

click here for more

It’s not the heat, it’s the time off without pay

Some of you may remember Sniper Kitty from a few months ago. I hadn’t realized he was part of Compound Security, protecting the property from the Tim Stalkers, until Tim explained it.

Tim and Rexford are spending a few days at Green Acres, and somebody’s treating their absence like a big vacation.

Trust me, that was no cat nap. He slept there for hours, leaving only when I finally had to let the dogs out. (Sorry to say, they aren’t cat fans.) I probably need to start paying Sniper Kitty in water, just to be on the safe side.

One night in Bangkok…

Early in June, Mark G. Harris did a post about the late designer Edith Head and her book How to Dress for Success. Included in his post was one of Miss Head’s sketches from her book:

As soon as I saw it, I began my top secret Edith Head Project: to design and sew my versions of the outfits pictured on Miss Head’s models. Lynne said it was an ambitious project, and she was right. And even though it has taken a lot of my time over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned several things.

*I CAN follow directions when I sew. It still doesn’t always turn out the way I hoped, but I enjoy the challenge.

*The EH Project reinforced my enjoyment of using my blend of my mother’s sewing supplies and my own. It provided a happy means of thinking of her while I worked during this month that marked the first anniversary of her death.

*One night when I was buying small amounts of three trims at the fabric store, the associate asked what I was using them for. I said, “Doll clothes. Barbie doll clothes.” She asked if I was sewing the clothes for an exhibit or for a special little girl. I said, “A special little girl. ME!” That began a lovely conversation in which she told me that she learned to sew as a child by making clothes for her Barbies. A happy gleam in her eyes made me think she might intend to pick up that childhood hobby again.

*When I sew, I work out all kinds of problems in my head. I’ve come up with so many ideas for characters I want to write that sewing has now become synonymous with research to me.

*In the book Marika sent me–11,002 Things To Be Miserable About–one of the items is “adults with doll collections.” When I ruefully repeated that to Lindsey, she said, “It’s not a collection. It’s an OBSESSION.” And somehow, that made it better.

Scoff if you must, but I say a life without obsessions is a life unlived.

Here’s the finished Edith Head Project. For a look at all the designs with comments, I made a public Flickr group. Enjoy!

Thanks to Tom, Tim, Lynne, Lindsey, Rhonda, Marika, and a bunch of dogs, all of whom supported the Edith Head Project in a variety of ways.