W for Wend

“Wend: to go in a specified direction, typically slowly or in an indirect route.”

That pretty much is how I write: specified direction (finish) slowly or indirectly.

I know where I want to go, just not how to get there.

When you start to write, you know you want to say something. Maybe it is to say how to make biscuits or what your purpose in life is. You have to start somewhere and end somewhere else. You don’t want to end where you started unless the journey is what you are trying to sell.

Let’s say you want to talk about biscuits. Your specified direction is the recipe. Now, you are wending your way to the end. Moving slowly, or indirectly.

Moving slowly, you could tell the story of how you made your first biscuits and the results. Then you could list the recipe.

Story done.

You could do it indirectly by talking about your grandmother. You could tell how you spent time with her and what you did.

One of those things you did could be the biscuits. You made them one morning for the family with grandma, but you did all the work. They don’t know that and tell grandma that those are the best they ever ate.

Which could easily move in to the next story.

When you write you could picture wending your way through a garden as you try to put together your story, whether it is biscuits or flowers.

Here is to wending your way to a great story and great career of writing.





Being able to put words together to tell a story is a gift. We can all write. We just can’t all write a story, or don’t enjoy the telling of the story. Those of us who can and do have a gift. And we should share it.

Nothing is easy about the gift and anyone who has a gift for doing something, whether it be making an awesome loaf of bread to singing an aria, will tell you it isn’t easy. Oh, we say it is no worry, no problem and the reason we say that, is we don’t want to admit to you that it is work. Especially when you don’t want to do it, but know you must because of deadline or a promise. There are other times when you sit down and you have two thousand words in two hours. Other times, you may have two words that you deign to keep.

But it is pure joy to get a piece done and have someone read it and say, “Fabulous!”, of course, that all goes pffffffffffffffffffffft when someone else reads it and is not impressed. When you take both into account and average out and it becomes, well, average, life seems okay then and you can move on to the next piece.

I think that when people say you have a gift for doing something, they think you can do that thing without thinking about it or having to learn to use it. You have to think how best to use it.

You have to learn to use it.

If as a writer you think there is nothing to learn or that over time you haven’t learned something, look at something you wrote 2 years ago. How does it look? How does it sound? You still have words, sentences and paragraphs, but don’t they look different? Don’t they sound different? Yes, they do. Because you learned how best to put them together. Aside from learning how best to put the words together, you have to learn about your subjects. You need to do research.

Unless you are a seventeen-year-old, you don’t know everything.

You know what feelings feel like, love, hate, passion, joy, but you don’t quite know how I feel. If you write about me you want to know how I feel and then you have to find a way to show those feelings to the world.

The writer’s mantra is ” Show don’t tell”.

Telling is: She went home and had dinner.

Showing is: She dragged herself to the car and noticed that the tank was close to empty. She slammed the key in the ignition, ground on the motor and when nothing happened knew she had to walk to the station three blocks away to get a can of gas and then trudge back.

My wish is that my gift to you is an understanding of having a gift and learning to use it.




Writing, Writing, Writing

I have been thinking about writing. You know, putting letters together to form words and then putting them together to from sentences and sentences into paragraphs and presto change-o you have a blog post.

Um, yeah.

That is, if you do it.

I just wrote I have been thinking about it.       And thinking.          And thinking.

Well, I decided to DO it.

I have slacked off writing because: my feelings were hurt. My thoughts wouldn’t come. The words stayed in my head.

I don’t know why I think my feelings were hurt, maybe because I didn’t walk into resounding applause everytime I walked into the office, or no one asked about my writing.

My thoughts wouldn’t come because they weren’t invited. You know, a thought comes through and you say, ” No, thanks. That’s a bad one.” So they don’t feel invited and stop coming.

The words stayed in my head, because I wouldn’t sit down and let them out.

You choose an excuse. There are many. I can’t use the one about two many people in the house, there are only two of us and my husband gives me the space to come into the office and computer and work on getting those words down.

And what do I do? Facebook. Games. E-mail. Staring at the screen.

Well, that’s over for now. I am writing.

I have had a tough time coming back to it, because I had convinced myself that it really wasn’t worthwhile. Sound familiar?

I truly thought only beginning writers had this problem. Well, I have been writing long enough that beginning doesn’t describe it anymore. I am a writer.

So I have to write.

Just sit down and write.

I have come back to it many times and left it just as many.

I am here to stay.

I will come back tomorrow and do it all over again. Another subject. Another story.

The subject may still be writing, but it will be a different story.

Do you have something in your life that you love that you keep leaving in a heap on the floor? Well, I am picking up my heap and making it a story.