Maureen Bush's Blog, page 24

Rain in June

We’ve had far more rain than usual for June, which is normally the rainiest month in Calgary. We’ve more than made up for a dry winter, and we’re feeling a little waterlogged.

The garden, however, is loving it. It’s growing wildly, struggling to make up for the losses from the dry winter (some of my bushes were hit hard). We’ve not quite moved into the full June overblown opera-singer everything blooming at once time (the peonies and roses are just starting to open), but the irises are gorgeous.

And, after years of pollen allergies, the allergy shots are taking effect and I can work in the garden. I sit with my laptop and a cup of tea, and pretend to write while I listen to the birds and enjoy the flowers.

Maureen

Writing: A Mobius Strip

After my June 4 post, Writing and Doubt, a writer friend, Rebecca Upjohn, referred to the never-ending Mobius strip of creativity. I think she’s exactly right, and that’s why it’s so confusing. You never quite know where you are, or even why you don’t know. It’s like being caught in an Escher drawing.

Here’s how to create a Mobius strip:

Cut a strip of paper roughly 11″ long and 1″ wide (just cut it off a piece of writing paper). Hold the ends together and get ready to tape them into a circle, but flip one end over first – it becomes a circle with a twist. That’s a Mobius strip. Then play with it and let your mind bend. Try drawing a line down the centre of the outside of the loop, and see what happens. More brain pain.

If you want to bend your mind further, try to follow the mathematical explanation on Wikipedia.

Maureen

 

Boxwood in the Garden

I’ve had a boxwood growing in my garden for five years, and I just scored another. I had to fight for it – Plantation brought in 24 last Thursday, and by that evening, when I arrived, they were all sold. This week I tried again, and managed to snag one for myself. Buxus Calgary.

To me, they smell like Spanish gardens. Boxwood is what’s used for the low hedging in Spanish gardens (and, I suspect, in other European gardens), and it gives the gardens a citrusy-musky scent, the perfect undertone for roses and lavender.

Mine aren’t noticeably fragrant until I bury my nose in them, except on hot, humid days when the smell carries a little further, and I can pretend I’m at the Alhambra.

My photos of the boxwood were dull, but I caught a nice shot of part of the garden with the late sun shining through the neighbour’s trees.

Maureen

The Renovation Dance

Once again. still, forever, I’m doing the renovation dance: working around guys working in the house, working through waiting and hammering and questions and oops. Leaving the house to avoid paint fumes and fresh varathane on the floors. Working at the library, in the park, at a coffee shop.

Somehow my work continues, but it’s interrupt-driven, coming in fits and spurts.

And some days, that’s a relief. I can’t dive into the new project until I finish the old, with its multitude of details, and the endless renos keep me from getting there, keep me, again and again, from needing to dive into a new story and failing. That’s the hardest moment and the greatest fear. What if I can’t? And how do I do it anyway, with all the endless interruptions? How do I simply take that leap, and immerse myself in the new story?

I’m picking away at it, working on bits, pretending to make some headway. Telling myself, no, really, it is all progress. It’s all useful. It’ll help later. But I still don’t dive in. Perhaps it’s a fear of falling.

Maureen

 

Writing and Doubt

I found a lovely quote by Julia Cameron: “For an artist, “I don’t know” is the hard time. It is the season between seasons when you are not sure what you are making and if you are making anything worthwhile. All artists go through seasons of rooted joy and seasons of rootless restlessness and doubt. It goes with the territory. If we knew, always, what is is we know, there would be no new land to push forward to. We would do and redo what it is we do – and that is not the artist’s life. Ours is a life of invention.”

Sitting with “I don’t know” and doubt and restlessness is an odd thing. Confidence comes with experience, but not, I think, for writers. The doubt returns, over and over, as we struggle to pin down exactly what the story is trying to be. And yet it’s that very exploration that’s so fascinating.

Maureen

1000 New Words A Day

I’ve had a very successful week making writing the focus of my days, in spite of renovations and a twice-dead furnace.

But I’ve been totally one-upped by Art Slade. He’s going for 1000 new words every day. Including weekends, holidays, and, he claims, Christmas and his birthday. http://arthurslade.blogspot.ca/2012/05/1000-words-day-or-else.html

1000 new words every day? On top of editing and plotting and all the stuff that sucks away at a writer’s time?

But he’s right. That’s the way to do it – new words. Every day. And then editing. And then all that other stuff. I’m not sure it’s even possible. And that’s gonna nag at me.

Maureen

Storyboarding

At the Young Alberta Book Society meeting last Sunday (a great day all-round), Carolyn Fisher gave a talk on storyboarding. It was intended for writers of picture books, as she had noticed a lack of understanding of how the text needs to be structured to fit the format of a picture book.

I’d brought a picture book manuscript for the critiquing session, so I was particularly interested in the storyboard discussion. After, I sat down with my story and divided it into 15 segments, (picture books are usually 32 pages long, which breaks down into 15 illustrated spreads). I thought about how the page breaks add pauses to the story that can be used to build tension, and checked how much text would be on each page. Then I edited, searching for a good flow for the story. It was exciting to take a new look at the story – to see it with fresh eyes and find ways, I hope, to make it stronger.

Carolyn’s graphic for storyboarding can be found on her blog, http://www.carolynfisher.com/.

Maureen

 

Writing First

In a great commencement address Neil Gaiman gave (at The University of The Arts), he said, “There was a day when I looked up and realized that I had become someone who professionally replied to email, and who wrote as a hobby. I started answering fewer emails, and was relieved to find I was writing much more.”

I too have been doing too much other stuff, and losing track of the time I need to spend writing. So I’m turning my day upside down – actually returning it to what it used to be – writing first. Well, I’ll shower and dress and eat, meditate and do a little yoga. Then – I’ll write. No Facebook, no desk work, no whatever. Writing first. Push appointments to the afternoon, whenever possible. And write. Do other things when I need a break. And write.

Neil Gaiman said, “Make good art.” Whatever happens in your life, make good art. He says it much better, with absurd examples, but, basically, whatever life brings, make good art. For me, that means keep writing, through the endless interruptions. Keep writing.

I can’t claim to be making good art, as Neil Gaiman does, but I can try. I can write.

Maureen

Apple Blossoms

Probably my favorite time in the garden and my favorite scent: when the apple tree is in full bloom.

Maureen

Experiments in the Garden

Occasionally (well, perhaps not so occasionally) I’ll plant something that’s pushing the gardening zone limits for Calgary. I’ve had lots of failures, but some successes too. Boxwood, which smells like a Spanish garden when the temperature is just right; vining hydrangea, which blooms, a little; and, flowering for the first time this year, two lenten roses. Hellebores, in Calgary.

They opened white, and I was disapointed they were the same colour. I’ve seen pictures of wonderful dusty shades. But each is shifting as it ages. One is white with more and more green, and little red dots near the centre. The other is morfing into green on the inside, and pink on the outside. I love watching the change, the flowers new every day.

Maureen