We Reap What We Sow, in Fiction
By Heather Webb | September 26, 2015 |
It’s harvest time again. Tomatoes and squash, apples and peppers overflow from the bins at the local farmer’s market. The scent of dried grass and decaying leaves float through the air. Cool mornings are welcome—and so are the finished pages of my latest manuscript that I can almost put behind me. I’m finishing a novel that has challenged me tremendously this last year, not just as a writer stretching and growing in new directions, but as a writer in an ever-shifting industry. Needless to say, it’s been an emotional year and my journey with this book has been a rocky one. But now, as my manuscript ripens, I’m glad I stayed the course. I’m proud, even. Each novel teaches us something about ourselves as people, as writers. What I’ve learned is to…
THINK LIKE A FARMER
Trust Your Intuition: Farmer’s combine their years of learning with an innate connection to their land, their animals. Writers work the same way, with time and practice. Is there something nagging you in the back of your brain about your WIP? Some dangling plot thread, some weak character? Perhaps it’s the tone. Is it humorous enough? Does it evoke a sense of doom? Does this premise feel like “the one”, or the one for now? Perhaps your gut is telling you to take a chance in a new direction. Learn to trust your instincts and intuition. There’s a reason a siren is going off somewhere in your subconscious. It’s trying to tell you something that could turn your manuscript—or your writing career—inside out.
Watch for Patterns: Farmers track weather and seasonal patterns, the yield each year, and the varying needs of their livestock and crops so they may grow strong and healthy, flourish. Keep a writing almanac to track your own habits. Which part of your writing process gives you the most trouble? When do you feel good about your manuscript? Low? How does your word count vary from week to week? Tracking your routines is an interesting lesson in who you are as a writer. Better yet, it may serve as a tool to help you shake off the gloom and self-doubt when you need it most. When I reach forty thousand words in a first draft and again around seventy, I decide I’m a talentless hack and should give up altogether—until I checked my writing journal to see how I faired with the last book. Sure enough, it happened at the same spot in a previous manuscript, same feelings. A reassurance I can push through and bring my current ms to fruition.
Pruning, Watering, Coaxing to life: Sometimes the crop doesn’t want to cooperate, but the farmer understands nurturing is the key to bringing them to life. Nurture your manuscript; work in layers, delve deeper, pay attention to when it needs trimming. But don’t just nurture your manuscript—nurture yourself. Writing is exciting, painful, stressful, depleting, inspirational, and above all lots of work. Taking care of ourselves through the process allows us to bring something fresh and meaningful to the page day after day. Which brings me to…
WHAT WE PUT IN, IS WHAT WE GET OUT
Like anything else worth having this life, the energy and love and effort we put into a project SHOWS. To cultivate a ripe, juicy manuscript, be sure to seek…
Inspiration, aka rich experiences, tastes, and ideas: In order to write valuable, true, meaningful stories you have to leave your circle of comfort. Go out into that big wide world and gather new experiences. Try skills or hobbies you’ve never tried before, foods. Travel to “that side of town” or a different country. Authentic experiences engender authentic characters and conflict that’s REAL on the page, not to mention all of those juicy world-building details. Expand your world.
Scheduled time: Treat your writing time as if it were sacred. During these designated time slots, don’t make appointments, don’t go to lunch with your neighbor, don’t decide to repaint your house. Shut off your phones, close off the real world and enter the realm of the make believe. If you don’t treat your writing time with respect, it won’t respect you and you’ll find you aren’t gaining traction. Repeat after me: WRITING TIME IS SACRED.
Emotional selves: Practice ways to tap into your emotional well and bring it to the page. Meditation, journaling, and writing prompts are a few tools I’ve used in the past. But also, being cognizant of how I feel from day to the next is helpful. If I’m in an upbeat, energetic mood, I head to straight to the more active or playful scenes. If I’m feeling low or sad, I focus on the scenes in need of emotional depth. Dig beneath your many layers of defenses and funnel your emotions to the page. If you don’t, your pages will lack the compelling factor that hooks readers.
Above all, be positive, open, and hopeful. Don’t look behind you. Keep your eyes on your crop, and prepare for a ripe harvest. What will you do with your yield? In which direction will you go? With a homegrown, well-tended project, the sky is the limit.
How do you tend your manuscript and/or nurture yourself while working on a project?
What a delicious and beautiful post! You’ve truly captured the season and reminded me of my own pattern.
As a person, I don’t look forward to the fall or winter because it means cold temperatures and my body craves the heat of summer. But as an artist I relish how the fallen leaves and the snow cover, which removes the vibrant “colors” from the world, coax me to go inward, to delve deeper into those emotional spaces that have been lying dormant. The colder months provide the space I need to nurture the ideas and truths I have avoided, and with patience and time give me the courage to unearth them. I am much more productive in the fall and winter.
Wow, now that I’ve articulated my pattern, the limbo I’ve been wrestling with lately appears to have shaken loose. Hmmm. Perhaps I don’t mind the cooler air after all. Thanks Heather!
I’m with you 100%– the fall and winter are far and away my most productive times of year for writing. In fact, I don’t know how writers do it if they live in a location where the weather is mostly the same year round. Too much sun and warmth (though lovely) keeps me from going inward, just as you said. I just want to play and be outside and go to cookouts. lol.
I’m so glad you’ve catapulted right out of limbo! :)
Heather, you said a lot here that I related to, especially that “siren going off somewhere in your subconscious.” Such a brilliant and accurate description. Listening to that siren has helped me to make simple changes that have always ended up having big ramifications in my WIP. Although sometimes, the siren manifests for me as a testy mood, like the one I was in yesterday. This morning I woke up knowing why. Now I have to go in and create an attitude adjustment in one of my characters that will change the tone of a scene. And so the dominoes fall. I also love what you say about recognizing patterns in ourselves and the way we work. Being able to do this can eliminate days or weeks of wallowing! Thanks for a beautiful post this morning.
Boy do I know that feeling–the testy mood. When I’m wrestling with something that doesn’t feel quite right, but I can’t seem to figure it out, I get irritable myself. And the wallowing! We writers are so good at it. :) It’s always a relief when we find a pathway through it. Thank you for your comment today, Susan.
You are so wise, Heather. Next time I am flipping out about my writing I will try to remember your balanced, sensible approach. Can’t wait to read, I mean devour, your latest bounty!
I can’t wait to share it with you! Let’s hope it’ll be a good harvest. ;)
As a Farmer (Cherries, and Apple, Pears), & a writer (Queries, Damnable Tears), I find a lot of parallels between the two.
Yes! It seems we are in alignment with each other. Thanks for commenting today, Jame.
Thank you for this inspiring post, Heather. I just finished the second draft of an ms. after tossing out most of the first one–all while on a deadline. Needless to say, I’m glad and relieved to have reached this point. I think you are absolutely right that we have to trust our instincts and wait until a particular story ripens. When I’m in the middle of the process, I always forget that this ripening occurs slowly and in fits and starts, so I make everything much more punishing than it needs to be. Patience!
“I make everything more punishing than it needs to be”–you and me both! Sometimes I berate myself for not understanding a plot thread and how it will connect with the others right away, but it just needs time. I’ve learned a lot about trusting my process with this book. Good luck with your deadline!
Love this metaphor, Heather. I think the farmer-like thing I’ve had to learn is patience (like SK, in the comment above). I’ve found that the fields of my story-world need to lie fallow sometimes, but that time always provides a fertile base for the sowing of new ideas. And diligent work always leads to new sprouts.
Sometimes it seems like I’ll never harvest a marketable crop. Once again – patience. Being a beer lover (and even though I know how you feel about my hearty beer choices, I’m going there), it reminds me of hops. They say the Mighty Mitten is perfect for hop-growing (leeward side of the lake, near the 45th parallel). And we’ve got tons of craft brewers who’d love to use local hops. But Michigan hop production can’t keep up. You see, it’s a labor intensive crop. It requires special growing racks and harvesting equipment, and the plants take up to five years to produce quality hops. So it’s a big commitment up front. And then it takes faith and patience, and I’m sure no end of trial and error. There’s a lot of intricate detail work. It takes long-term nurturing, and all the while you’re at the whim of the both the environment and the marketplace.
Yeah, that all sounds pretty familiar. Guess I’ll stick with what I love so much – my ardent pursuit. Oh, and I’ll keep writing, too. ;-) Thanks for the inspiration, my friend! And cheers!
Shoot. I answered you, but it looks like it’s beneath Bernadette’s reply. Sorry about that. lol!
I needed this post. And Vaughn’s reply too. Sometimes on this journey I feel like I am repeating steps already taken. It’s true. Seasons although they come and go, come and go a little differently each time. I think I am beginning to understand what “seasoned” really means. Thank you.
I do as well, Bernadette, and sometimes that’s because we haven’t learned the lessons we need to, I think. Other times, I believe it’s just all part of the process. Patience, self-care, and love of writing will get you there. Keep at it. We’ve got your back!
Thoughtful, lovely comment as always, Vaughn. I hear growing grapes for wine production is similarly complex, difficult, and a rather large investment up front. Yet, if I had the cash, I’d give it a try. It’s interesting how we choose these pursuits which take so much care and attention. What does this say about us as people?
In any event, keep at it, my friend. Patience, as you said, is imperative and with all of the pruning and layering and learning you’re doing, I can only believe it will pay off with a fruitful bounty.
Great post – I needed this one today. I am sitting at that 40K agony right now. It’s helpful to know I’m not the only one who gets that!
Great analogy, Heather. And perfect timing for Thanksgiving in Canada!