Thanks for reading “Just Keep Writing!” Subscriptions help me do more of this newsletter-writing thing, so if you would, please consider a paid subscription!
And hey — I have a free workbook, “Jumpstart Your Writing in Six Steps,” available here. And reply to this very email if you’re interested in my coaching services! Or if you just want to talk to me about anything.
In Country News this week, a groundhog ate my petunias.
I should be annoyed about this, but how adorable is it that I’m dealing with wildlife chomping away at flowers instead of, say, someone off their meds pooping on our stoop? This is almost as wholesome as the spring when Hazel decided that her favorite snack was fallen cherry blossoms. To be fair to the groundhog, I didn’t witness it beheading the petunias, but 1) I’ve seen the groundhog waddling around our backyard, absolutely unconcerned by our sitting right there, and 2) the internet has told me that groundhogs like petunias so 3) who else is it going to be? Scott?
Because I’m so new to non-city living, I find it all endlessly charming. I feel like I’m in a Richard Scarry book. (I’m driving the pickle car.)
I understand we’re supposed to get rid of the groundhog, or at least make his new home under our shed less hospitable, but instead I named him Bert Cooper. You know he’s singing “The Best Things in Life Are Free” to himself. Maybe Robert Morse has been reincarnated as a groundhog! What? You’re delusional.
A WRITING TIP FOR YOU
Like everyone, it seems, I’ve been in a creative rut. (“Everyone” being mainly my clients, who are all complaining about feeling off their game. “Just keep writing!” I exhort, like a true hypocrite.) So: Cowed by the blank screen, the blinking cursor judging my paltry efforts, I turned to my old pal, the legal pad. Legal pads are less intimidating than notebooks, which have covers and feel too much like books. My scrawls would only ruin them.
So every (weekday) morning, I’ve been handwriting for about 20-30 minutes, then later I transcribe whatever I’ve produced into a doc, which also tricks me into feeling like I’m writing even more, so my productivity feels much higher than it has been. So what if it’s only a little more? A little more than zero is a lot, and you can quote me on that.
Writing longhand slows you down, but that’s not such a bad thing. It also makes you less inclined to delete what you were working on, and you develop more awareness of your inner critic demanding that you backtrack. It’s a lot more violent to cross out a few lines than it is to lean on the delete key for a moment or two. So you don’t, and then you realize that the world doesn’t stop, that no one comes to arrest you for poor writing. And you keep going.
IN LESS HAPPY NEWS
RIP Treat Williams, star of (among other things) Hair, one of my favorite movies of all time. I wrote about my love of Hair many years ago on Finslippy and I joked that Treat Williams taped gypsy-moth caterpillars above his eyes “after he lost his eyebrows in a motorcycle accident” and now I think I might be psychic? I will certainly never joke about anyone being in any accident ever again because of my Powers.
At any rate, please enjoy Mr. Treat Williams at the height of his powers, in possibly one of the best musical numbers ever; don’t you even try to fight me on that.
I have heard that song in my head for the last 24 hours. Thanks for keeping it there. PS I still remember one of my favorite writing teachers telling us that we were only allowed to use those black and white marble composition books for our idea journals or we would never think that the paper was worthy of our words. Best writing advice ever.