Close Encounters of the Moose Kind

Vacation mostly means reading, not cooking, cleaning, but still writing for me. I'm not sure I can take a vacation from writing. My head just goes on doing what it does anyway, but with much better scenery and much better inspiration. I write western historicals and this country is full of history and evidence of that. And for poetry. Actually, this writer's haven.

So, pack up trailer and head up to the high Uinta mountains for fishing, hiking, spotting animals, looking at wonderful scenery, seeing cattle ranchers at work and nature, hearing the whispers of bygone days. Perfect. The fishing is mostly for my husband and I go along when he goes down at the shore of the reservoir, but when the fishing is slow, often I wander back to the truck to read.

I was deep into Kaki Warner's new book Bride of the High Country when for some reason I looked up and saw a few other fishers pointing behind the truck. Of course, I looked.
The black dot was a moose. Slowly I put the bookmark in my book. I didn't want to lose my place, then got out my camera. I slipped out of the truck, but left the door open, afraid shutting the door would scare the moose, and I started shooting.

He got closer.

This was my picture of when he stopped and looked at me. No, there is not a moose in this picture. I was trying to remember if he was one of those animals you do  not want to look in the eyes. I think he was trying to figure out if I was a threat.

I almost missed this one, too. I was busy trying to start my heart again.

Finally, a full picture.

Peace reigns and my heart is almost normal. I told my husband, if I had had my big camera I would have much better pictures. Yeah, right.

Negative Talk

Negative talk. What do you do about it? Especially, when it comes from your own harping self.  And it will. You can bet your heart, it will.

“No one’s waiting for that book/poetry/essay you’re writing. (Fact, no one is.) Which reminds me of a quote I found somewhere: Facts is stubborn things and can’t be drove. –Mrs. Gamp. I’ve often wondered who Mrs. Gamp is/was and why quote her. Well, besides that she’s right. But facts can be tricky things, too, depending on just how they are presented. Still, no denying, no one is waiting for what I am writing.

“That novel you’ve worked on for ??? years, sweated, cried over, worried about, edited with that fine tooth comb, well, it won’t make it past the slush pile, which is really, though they don’t tell you this in the workshops, classes and conferences you’ve attended, the garbage can.”

Who knows if this is true, could be. There are times I’m certain of it, or the mouse in the corner read it, then used it for bedding, or they just have a revolving mailbox or…

“Conferences are a waste of time. You won’t get the appointment you need, and there is never enough time to present your ideas in the best light. Does anyone really listen? Besides, you’re so nervous, how can you have a chance of getting anyone to listen to you with your weak, shaky, hesitant voice, anyway?”

Might be true, too. Is true as far as voice goes. Although I find most editors/agents etc. are honestly looking. Who wouldn’t want to find that next big book? The one everyone is talking about. They’re, also, kind and helpful as they can be. It really is all you can ask/hope for from them.

It must be human nature, that negative talk and I’d say, writers or anyone in the arts must be the worse. For one thing, there’s so much to doubt. Your ideas, your craft, your work, your time, your ability. For another, what we do, what I do, is just so dang subjective. And if you’re anything like me, you ask yourself, at least once a day, ‘what do I know about good writing/art? Or, does anybody get me? My writing?’ (Umm, do they?)

But hey, I know what I like, right? And that’s another thing, how do you like yourself objectively? Which is what you’re doing when you say you’re satisfied with what you’ve just written/rewritten/rerewritten, right? How do you ever satisfy yourself when you are OCD, unsure and shy?

We say all those things( the negative talk, the doubting, the rationalizations)  to ourselves, aloud and in frustrated whispers. The thing is, we also, listen. We wouldn’t say these things to our best writer friend or artist. We wouldn’t say these things to our kids or our husband when they are trying to do something they love.

When my kids tried to learn to ride a bike or swim. What did I do, even after hours of holding onto the bike seat, running along behind, panting and swearing I was too old for this…stuff and I had to lose a few (translation, a million) pounds? Or paying and driving my kids to extra swimming lessons when I really didn’t have the time or the money until—finally, finally they got it.

The writing magazines and books are full of ways to combat the negative talk. All the ideas work for a while, but for me, the best advice I’ve ever heard is a two-prong approach: One, I found in Writer’s Digest’s presents: Write Your Novel in 30 Days. It was in the first article of the magazine, How You Can Write a Book in a Month by Victoria Schmidt and it was secret # one. Talk about hitting me over the head to get my attention, but it had not a thing to do with negative talk. Still, it stayed with me, filtering into every aspect of my writing. ‘Work “as if.”’ To Victoria Schmidt that means to keep moving forward, not stopping to rewrite and it works beautifully for that. I just love the way doing that keeps those first pages flowing, but I’ve twisted it to use against that negative talk, too.

 I work as if I am published, as if those negative ‘facts’ have no bearing, as if I’m already past that. So, when a negative thought comes along, as it will, I tell myself I got past that, already. It no longer applies, no longer troubles me, it’s for my ‘agent’( I really ought to give the poor guy a name. Any suggestions?) to worry about and most of the time that works.

If I’m still not listen to myself about anything but negative, then I ask, myself, (‘cause who else is there, in my head, and if there are more people in my head, I have more to worry about than I thought, but I don’t think I ought to go down that road or…), am I the best witness to these negative statements?’ and ‘do I trust myself?’

Sometime, I’m not the best witness to the facts. None of us are, look at how bad we are as witnesses to crimes. Odds are not good we can describe that criminal that stole the gum or the car that hit us and drove off.

Let’s face it, every time you pick up a writer’s magazine there are reminders of all the changes going on in publishing. They will affect us. No doubt about it. It could be negatively, too. But…it could be the best thing since the computer to come along for us writers. Depends on what article you read. How the heck do I know which article reflects the pulse of the publishing industry? Experts can’t. So I don’t listen.

I don’t mean I don’t keep informed. I just very purposefully move on ahead, trusting that the writing is the first thing to worry about, and first things first, right? I’ll get the book down, rewritten and polished, then reassess the publishing world, as it is right then. I’ll trust I’ll make the best decisions for me, then. I won’t make decisions until then, ‘cause things are a changing.

Then, I’ll read the quote I keep in my bookcase, eye level, so I see it every time I reach for my dictionary or thesaurus: I couldn’t wait for success, so I went on ahead without it.

I trust that rejection won’t kill me and I can handle the hurt. I’ve been rejected before. I will be again. It is part of the work. I’ll remember that boy I had the wild crush on when I was fourteen. I survived, got stronger and found out it was for the best. I’ll trust that often not having success at that moment is a blessing. I’ll just do another rewrite, if I think it’s necessary, start another book, or send this book out again. I’ll work on as if I’m a success.

I’ll trust that if the book/poem isn’t any good or not selling I can rewrite, resubmit, keep trying. I’ve come this far, which is a success all its own. I can and will keep trying.

I’ve decided that we can believe in the positive or the negative things we tell ourselves, but what we ought to do, what I’m trying to do is be a good friends to myself. Be my own cheerleader, pep club, atta boy.

Ok, not everyone will succeed to publish. I’ll say that again, breathe it in, let that idea live inside me, as a fact. Not every boy who wanted to be a pro football player made it. Not every singer on American Idol wins, but worlds open up, opportunities happen when you take a risk.

I think about actors from old TV shows that we never see again, once the show ends. What happens to them? We think their lost or broke but they just go on. We all do…unless we do something stupid, but I’m not stupid. Most of those actors end up having wonderful, fulfilling lives. Their time in the spotlight, a sweet memory. Many continue working as actors, just not in that spotlight, but they don’t care because they are doing what they love. And those who mourn the spotlight and demand it back, they are the ones who crash and burn. Which life do I choose?

Remember and I’ve quoted this more than once here: The grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love and something to hope for. —Joseph Addison. Aren’t we lucky, writing gives us all three.

I’ll end on a quote from Jay Leno to his wife—Just do it and see what happens.