Archives for January 2017

On Social Activism and Resisting

January 30, 2017

Hi there, my darlings.

How are you? No, I mean it. How are you?

It’s so rough out there right now.

I woke up on Saturday morning with nothing to do until the evening, when we had tickets to see Ira Glass at City Arts and Lectures. I planned to lounge in bed. I’d cleared work from my plate until Monday, and I was going to have a Day Off. I was counting on pajamas and muffins and knitting and maybe some cleaning out of books.

Instead, I read about the Muslim Ban. I got more and more upset, as you probably did, too.

What has happened in a week and a half? The brand new White House policy advisor, Steve Miller, actually organized white supremacist events at Duke University with Richard Spencer (the Nazi who got punched last week).

Steve Bannon, the ex-Breitbart alt-right (read: Nazi), has the same status of the secretary of state as of this weekend. He has not been vetted. At all. (There’s a theory that says he’s setting us up for an attack by ISIS. No sitting president has ever lost reelection in wartime.) And he’s in the driver’s seat now, not Trump.

There are strong signs that this is a coup.

Read that again.

There are signs that this is a literal coup, well-planned and orchestrated by Bannon. THIS ARTICLE says more and is scary as hell.

Saturday morning, watching all of it unfold, I felt hopeless.

Furious.

Helpless.

Yes, we should call our representatives and congresspeople, we know that. Calls are worth way more than paper letters, and emails/Tweets/FB messages are all but ineffective. (I didn’t know until this week that if you do write paper letters, send them to their regional, state-level office rather than DC. Good info.)

But my congressperson who’s waffling on voting No on Sessions and Tillerman is Diane Feinstein. None of her offices are answering their phones. At all. You get messages that say the voice mail is full.

The voice mail is full! There’s nothing you can do with that! You can keep calling, hoping a live body will answer (in DC, in SF, in LA, in SD, even in Fresno) but no one does.

I felt so hopeless I felt sick.

Then I saw the march planned at SFO. When I saw the FB page, only 9 said they were going. That was okay. I talked to Lala (who couldn’t go–she went on Sunday) about contingencies in case of my arrest. I made a hasty sign.

I went to BART and made my way there to find I wasn’t the only one.

For a while, we stayed on our sides of the street, letting traffic flow.

Then, led by a tiny elderly Asian woman who waited for the cops to get distracted and then stepped into the street. She gave a little “come on” sign with her hands and we all did.

It was a loud crowd, the chants never stopping, the mic-checks almost drowned out by the sheer righteous anger that surrounded us.

The ban is not our America.

It’s not what this country was founded on.

It felt good to fight. To resist. To yell as loudly as we could, “No ban! No wall! Sanctuary for all!”

And it’s just the start, my friends. We have at least four years of this to come.

What do we do now to resist?

Protests are important (and let’s face it, they can be soul-mending and even fun).

Calling your elected officials is essential. (We’re finally learning how to use our smart phones to make calls!)

But what else?

This is what I’m doing to make a difference:

Call: On the off-chance you haven’t seen this already, start with 5calls.org. You just put in your zip, and you get info on who to call with what message.

Swing Districts: Control of the House in 2018 depends on a few swing districts, and it’s time to start thinking about that NOW. Go HERE to find out the one closest to you, and then get to work there. (I’m CA Dist 7, see you in Modesto!)

Put “social activism” on your To Do list every day. Cross it off after you’ve made contact with someone. Today I crossed it off after sending a fax to Diane Feinstein (apparently faxes are good for something!) through this site from which you can fax both house and senate.

Arrest: Are you in a place of privilege that you could be arrested if need be? Lala and I are (no kids, no jobs that would punish us for doing so), but we are putting into place to set up care for the animals. (We’ll use IFTTT to send a text blast to the relevant people who have our house keys. A beloved friend who can’t be arrested but wants to help is our bail money. She’s set it aside on purpose, keeping it liquid for this reason, for those she loves.) Related: I’ve been a good girl my whole life. Kept my nose clean. It’s fucking NUTS that this is the conversation we’re having.

Start learning about that same privilege. I can only speak to white women, but start here. Already feel you’re a good intersectional feminist and ally? Level up here.

Get organized, on a grass-roots level. I’m part of a local crafting group, and this was done in the first meeting:

Write down the social topics that matter to you (it might be a long list)
Have people sign up for those they’re most interested in.
Get a leader for each topic.
Each leader disseminates that info to the people interested, with news and plans of action.

By dividing, we can conquer. My particular group meets once a week for an hour and a half, in person. Knitting is in our hands and we’re taking action.

Every HOUR it seems like the news gets worse, and we can’t all fight all the things all the time. But we can help each other hit the high points, break through the noise, and take action.

Together.

Don’t despair.

I know that’s hard, but there are more of us, who value the rights all of human beings, than there are of them.

Keep fighting. (And keep talking. Comments open. Polite comments of all types will be kept and cherished. But come into my house with fists swinging, and I’ll delete you right out of my house, and you won’t even get a gluten-free muffin to go.)

And remember to put on your own oxygen mask first. Too much? Step away. Rest. Read something light. Take a bath. Then come back swinging. We’re in this together, petals. We’ve got this.

Writing Rituals: Allowing them to change

January 28, 2017

I got an email earlier this week from someone trying to sell me something that asked me what my writing routine was. The goal of that email (not this blog post!) was to get me to buy a piece of software that would improve my writing rituals. (Before you ask, you don’t need the software, I promise, or I would totally tell you about it.)

But it got me thinking about rituals.

A ritual is a ceremony that is made of actions performed in a prescribed manner.

And oh, lordy, do I love a ritual.

I have so many rituals in my life. A sampling:

The way I push the dogs out of my office every morning to lay out my yoga mat and move my body around for thirty minutes.
The way I heat my oatmeal for four minutes exactly, and then add the frozen blueberries so I get an infusion of insta-cool which means I can get to the eating part of my day faster.
The way I polish my glasses when thinking about emotion, as if that would make it easier for me to see.

I like rituals with everything, everywhere.

When I’m in a strange city, I set up a routine on the very first day. I unpack my clothes, putting them into drawers and setting my paperwork in order on whatever desk I have nearby. I find a new “favorite” cafe and go back often. I used to bring a scented candle when I traveled until I almost started my agent’s apartment on fire (true story) and now I don’t bring extra flames with me. I even unpack in a tent.

And I really love my writing routine, which is always changing.

I know that’s contrary to the usual advice of “always play the same music” or “always have the same scent in the air.” Shouldn’t writing rituals be rules that you’ve set yourself and that you follow, hard and fast?

Look. Life isn’t static. It’s always, always changing. If I’d made myself stick to the same cafe where I used to get excellent work done, I’d be there right now, hating the smell of onions (they added cooked food to the menu) and distracted by the woman talking to herself while wearing intricately crafted items made from foil (bless her, but I can’t tune her out even with white noise turned up to 11).

If I’d made myself stick to writing at 4am, I’d BE VERY SAD AND TIRED.

If I’d made myself stick to writing when the mood struck, I’d have no books written at all.

Old writing rituals die. New ones rise to take their place. That’s natural.

I’ve recently learned that the best routine for me in writing is putting my feet up. Who knew? It seems, for me, that sitting with feet down means email and tasks. Feet up (or standing) means making new words. (You can’t really do the feet-up thing if you’re in a cafe or you turn into one of THOSE people, like the people who Skype without headphones in public.)

My routine, though solid and predictable on a daily basis, changes over the long term. It’s always moving, always a work in progress.

That’s okay. That’s good. That’s life.

I will admit that a few things always remain, though, and I’ll list them here in case they’re of use to you:

I use Write or Die to catch my first drafts. No jump-scares, no kamikaze mode, I just have the screen go to red when I’m not writing, and I get a puppy image when I’m done.
I use Post-its like some people put parmesan on pasta — everywhere, with gusto.
I write in silence at home, and with white noise when I’m out. (Years ago, I used to write with music, but I can hear the rhythm of my words better with no melody.)
I use Sharpwriter pencils. Always Sharpwriter. Plain, cheap, basic, reliable. (Like me!)
Scent is helpful for me, so I burn incense or put a pan of cinnamon/clove water on a low burner (CAUTION: FLAMES!). It’s not so much what it smells like as the fact that the air just smells nice.

Don’t worry if you’re still finding your way into your perfect writing routine. If it’s changing, that’s good.

Play.

Explore.

Experiment.

I’d love to know your writing rituals. Leave a comment!

Ep. 032: Honorée Corder

January 26, 2017

Honorée Corder is the author of 20 books, including You Must Write a Book, and Prosperity for Writers. She is also Hal Elrod’s business partner in The Miracle Morning book series. Honorée coaches business professionals, writers, and aspiring non-fiction authors who want to publish their books to bestseller status, create a platform, and develop multiple streams of income.

Craft Tip: Always be bettering your craft. Always be learning.

Listen above or subscribe on:

iTunes | Stitcher | Youtube | Facebook

Sign up for Rachael’s FREE weekly email in which she encourages you to do the thing you want most in the world. You’ll also get her Stop Stalling and Write PDF with helpful tips you can use now to get some writing done (free).

TRANSCRIPT BELOW:

Take a Novel Writing Class at Berkeley (online) With Me!

January 24, 2017

Next week, on February 2, 2017, my class Developing the Novel starts at UC Berkeley Extension!

Explore the craft of longer fiction and how to meet its creative challenges. Each session includes a lecture on craft, supported by discussion of assigned readings and exercises to unlock the potential of your ideas. Learn how to develop characters, language, voice, pace, tone, theme and setting, and participate in a group critique of student work. Enrollment is limited.

– SIGN UP HERE –

Ep. 031: Gwenda Bond

January 19, 2017

Gwenda Bond writes YA and children’s fiction. Her novels include the Lois Lane series, which bring the iconic comic book character front and center in her own YA novels, and the Cirque American series, about daredevil heroines who discover magic and mystery lurking under the big top. Her nonfiction writing has appeared in Publishers Weekly, Locus Magazine, the Los Angeles Times, and many other publications. She has an MFA in writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. She lives in a hundred-year-old house in Lexington, Kentucky, with her husband and their unruly pets. There are rumors she escaped from a screwball comedy, and she might have a journalism degree because of her childhood love of Lois Lane.

Craft Tip: When you’re starting a scene, ground the audience in the scene, where the character is and what they’re doing, rather than in the character’s head.

Listen above or subscribe on:

iTunes | Stitcher | Youtube | Facebook

TRANSCRIPT BELOW:

[Read more…] about Ep. 031: Gwenda Bond

Wrangling Time Like the Varmint It Is

January 15, 2017

[In the effort to blog more often, I might sometimes crosspost my emails meant for my writing group if they feel relevant to my life and are something I’d like to remember later. In that spirit, here’s this post on time management.]

I started tracking my time in earnest this month, and it’s had a huge effect on my life almost instantly. It’s like when I started using You Need a Budget – I’d never really understood money and debt until I started tracking it. TopTracker for time is doing the same thing to my brain, and I’m really thinking about the way I use my hours.

Biggest surprise so far?

A lot of time blocks I didn’t consider work actually are part of my work. Earlier this week, I had to send an international wire transfer to reserve a block of rooms for a Venice writing retreat. I found that my credit union had stopped doing them, and I had to literally switch banks in order to get it done. That was three hours that I would normally have just whined about, three hours lost from my work time.

That banking kerfuffle? That was work time.

Mind = blown.

Did you read the recent article, Why Time Management is Ruining Our Lives?

Oy. To know that even Merlin Mann wishes he hadn’t gone quite so far down the productivity wormhole? That was rough to read.

I worship time management.

I bow at its altar and offer my pittance of minutes stolen from the recesses of my Midori Bullet Journal. Even as a kid, I was obsessed with time management, wringing every possible drop from the hours I was allotted. I loved Cheaper by the Dozen and its look at Frank Bunker Gilbreth Sr’s early study of time and motion. I walked around the house making sure to batch my trips. Going downstairs to get a snack? I’d carry two books that had to go to the living room and bring back upstairs both my snack and my laundry. (This was when I was about nine, mind you.)

So I listened with bated breath this week as Kim Werker told me about her foray into time management with the app Asana. Maybe this would be it! Maybe this would be the one thing that finally got my time whipped into shape.

Because I’ve been needing help.

I’ve always been good at managing my time. I’m not the kind of person who looks down at a pencil and looks up to find the sun is setting outside.

But I’ve been scheduling too much.

I’ve forgotten what I can and can’t do. I’m used to overreaching and just getting what I want right before I fall out of the tree, and I have to say, that method is exhausting and leaves bruises.

Every year, I choose a word that I’ll keep in mind for the next year. 2016’s word was BRAVE because I knew I’d have to be courageous to jump out of my day job (I didn’t know it would take bravery just to get through the damn year itself.)

2017 doesn’t seem to have a word for me. Instead, it has a phrase:

“Can I do less?”

This is totally contrary to what I’ve ever done.

But it feels right.

I’ll still do everything, don’t get me wrong. I have plans to write three (maybe four) books in 2017, and I’m releasing three. I have two podcasts.* I’m teaching at Stanford and Berkeley.* I will write essays for my Patreon (and will, every 6 weeks, hand to god!). I’m creating a new online class.

I can do all this, and still do less within a day. How?

While talking to Kim, she said her assistant had built her schedule for her, including buffer room.

Wiggle room!

I never give myself any of that. My days are constantly scheduled full, from top to bottom. I work right up to every deadline I’ve ever had. When I get a migraine and lose two days, my whole schedule is hosed, and I have to redo everything.

This year, no.

This year, I’m building wiggle room into:

My deadlines (two weeks of it)
My weeks (one day a week, unscheduled, to be filled as needed)
My days (TWO OPEN HOURS planned, every work day. That can be used to do the things I didn’t see coming (and there are always tons of those every week), or to read (part of the job!) or to nap (part of a good life!).)

I’m scheduling three hours of Deep Work (loved the book by Cal Newport) into each morning. That time is strictly to do writing of new words, and revision of old ones. The rest of my work hours are scheduled for tasks, the myriad things that keep my world turning ’round and money flowing in.

Thanks to a suggestion from my mastermind group, I’m going to try to keep one day a week completely unscheduled (besides the deep work time). As it stands right now, that may be a different day each week, but that day can catch some of the flotsam and jetsam of the rest of the week.

I’m going to use a combination of Asana (for the reminders it sends) and my Midori to track my time.

My simple bullet weekly layout, with glitter washi!

(Above: Midori, with glitter washi tape! I don’t list the deep work on it, only the To Dos. See Thursday for a “free day” during which I’ll do both deep work and regular work, but I have no specific scheduled tasks that day.)

I’m going to give myself more time.

I’m going to schedule down time, every day.

I’ll keep you posted as to how it goes. How about you? How do you plan out your time? I’d love to hear.

xo, Rachael

***

The world is testing me. As I’m writing this to you, I just got asked to teach a paying gig that is right up my alley, but I do. not. have. time, and I’m going to have to say no to people I care about. Augh.
I realize that I’m whining about time management when writing is my full time job. I understand the place of privilege I’m in, and boy, do I appreciate it and never take it for granted.
I have a new writing podcast, did you know? J. Thorn and I are talking about making the transition to writing full time over at The Petal to the Metal. Come listen. We’re funny.
At Berkeley, one of the classes I’m teaching is in the Extension program and it’s online, so YOU can take it if you want to. It’s called Developing the Novel, and registration is open now. The class starts in two weeks, limited to 20 students.