Miss Demeanors

 One morning last November, I strolled into the Market Basket just over the Sagamore Bridge, the entrance to Cape Cod, to pick up a few items on my way home to the tindominium. Right in front of me stood a display filled with various sizes of freshly squeezed orange juice with a sign saying, “Squeezed Today.” I headed right for it, reaching for one of the largest size bottles.            Then I heard the voices of the invisible committee, sitting on my shoulders, whispering in my ears. “Orange juice, Michele?” asked one. “All that sugar,” said the one on my other shoulder. I silently told the orange juice was good for me. Vitamin C. “Sure, if it survived the pesticides,” chortled a voice. “How old do you think those oranges were before they were squeezed?” sniggered the other. I told them to shut up and placed the bottle in my basket, wheeling it quickly away into the bakery section before I was shamed out of buying orange juice by them. I glanced at a package of fresh baked pecan cinnamon rolls, which I had never noticed or purchased before, and defiantly put them next to the orange juice.            The next morning, my husband and I sat in the toasty November sun, reading the Sunday papers, welcoming a new week with fresh orange juice and warmed pecan rolls we even buttered. I refused to listen to the committee of “they.”  You know who that is. It’s the preface to a sentence that starts with, “They say you should never eat these three items if you want to rid yourself of belly fat” or “Always tell your children the truth about…” They is a very diverse and busy committee, especially now with the Internet and social media. Sometimes they can be identified as a source from Huff Post or even the New York Times, but often the committee’s roots are vague and its name an acronym no one had the time to figure out. They tell us how to spend our money, raise our children, what foods we must and must not eat, and what to read before we die with such authority, it’s hard to resist. The committee’s advice is often distilled into lists. “Ten Reasons Never to Drink Milk in Your Coffee.” “The Twenty Things You Must Do to Live Longer.” It’s exhausting.            Writers are faced with these lists all of the time. On any given day, Facebook will have a dozen lists telling a writer what she should do to become successful. Some of these lists are from professional agents and editors and can be very help, but others come from less reliable sources and can cripple a writer. In 57 seconds, Google handed me more than 93 million choices for advice for writers.            I certainly take Elmore Leonard’s Ten Rules for Writers that the New York Times had to persuade him to share seriously, probably because it isn’t dished out as dogma. “Try to leave out the parts readers tend to skip.” But even one of Leonard’s rules was a myth debunked by Lee Child, who pointed to successful authors who start with weather, another Leonard prohibition. Child says the rule that a writer must show, not tell a story is wrong and that it’s fine for a writer to tell a story.            Getting an agent can be as difficult as writing an entire book, so advice from professional agents like my own, Paula Munier, who has penned three excellent books on writing, can be helpful. Agent Jessica Faust of Book Ends recently blogged five very helpful “Do’s and Don’ts” for writing a query letter. Jane Friedman’s blog is filled with great information. There is wonderful information available for writers. You just have to remember three things (and now I’ve slipped into writing a list of my own): 1. Consider the source of the advice and its credibility. 2. Remember that some of the most successful writers have hit the NY Times best seller lists by abandoning well established writing conventions.3. Writing advice, be it in a list or any other form, should help you to write. It should not shut you down.           Take one example on this last important point. “You must write every day” is a rule spouted by many wonderful and successful authors. When I worked as a lawyer, mediator, and adjunct professor, I would arise early to review my case for the day, head out to court, return to the office to meet clients and conduct mediations. At the end of the day, I’d drive to Boston to teach law students who miraculously invigorated me. When was I supposed to write? Oh, I listened and watched lawyers, clients, court officers, and judges and took notes, jotting down ideas. But writing everyday wasn’t going to happen. Did I quit because I wasn’t a real writer if I couldn’t write every day? No. I’d write for ten hours on weekends, considered writing a priority when I’d take a vacation, and managed to write eight books, two of which were published during that time.            So go ahead, read the advice after you’re sure it’s coming from a reliable source. Then, start writing. And while you’re doing it, treat yourself to a glass of orange juice.    

  In earlier posts, I’ve shared what it was like to come to the decision to downsize from a ten-room house by the ocean to a mobile home, which isn’t mobile, in outer Cape Cod. Part of that decision was motivated by a thirty-year desire to spend winters in St. John in the U.S. Virgin Islands, where we had vacationed for decades. We’re just about to return to the “tindominium” on the Cape after our second winter here in St. John.            We are not living in a luxurious villa in St. John. We live in a sweet one-room cottage with a separate kitchen and a “bedroom area” next to our “living space.” There is a covered porch that runs the length of the cottage and overlooks Hurricane Hole. And there is a community pool for our tiny community of five.             Our winter cottage is in Coral Bay, where the bumper sticker, “We’re all here, because we’re not all there,” was inspired. We live among artists, writers, musicians, activists, and environmentalists, some of whom are supposed to be retired but you’d never know it. I’ve met real characters here that defy imagination and beg to be placed on a page. They don’t have to plead with me.            The transition to smaller quarters has been easier than we imagined, but we were really only living in three rooms in our former home in the end. The other seven were occupied by “stuff” now long gone, or at least most of it. Living in a warmer climate in the winter and on Cape Cod in the summer allows us to do most of our living outdoors. Our porch is where we perch most often when we are home. I write there, but also often take my laptop to a quiet shady spot on a beach where the fresh salt air seems to enhance my word count. There is a rooster who frequently visits me when I am writing. Sometimes he will sit on a branch and take a nap, occasionally opening one eye. Whether he is checking to see if I am still writing or that I’m keeping an eye out for him while he has his siesta, I don’t know, but it seems to be working for us.            How has life changed? We find that downsizing the size of our living quarters has made our lives huge. We have met many new wonderful friends with whom we share food, music, and island festivities. We don’t worry if we should be “working on the house” because we rent the cottage, which hasn’t diminished our affection for it as our little island home.             There have been some challenges. We have one car and one bathroom, but we’ve adjusted. Our kitchen is tiny but that didn’t stop us from cooking a kick-ass Bolognese and berry clafouti for friends the other night. Steve works part-time a few days a week at the local recycle center where he gets to meet lots of island folk and tinker with items they bring in to donate.  We’ve created individual space for each other even in a tiny cottage.             The sunrise each morning seems as if it were meant just for us. But soon we will be fluttering those wings we rediscovered and will return to our tindominium on the Cape with adventures planned in Provence, Dublin, and Virginia.                Writers often talk about “place” and how important it is to a story. I’m finding that it is the space I have cracked open within myself that is opening me to places I only dreamed about and letting me write my own story.     

 Procrastination, how do I practice thee? Let me count the ways.            The practice of procrastination isn’t limited to writers. Most procrastinators can remember “cramming” for an exam or starting a term paper at the last minute. I remember when I was in high school waiting until the night before all of the lab reports due in my chemistry class for the entire semester were due. I agonized over what my notes written months before meant, and vowed never to put myself in the position of pulling an “all-nighter” ever again as I finished the last report. I peeked out my window to see if it was light yet and saw that I had missed the heavy snowfall that had occurred during the night. There was no school that day! I had stayed up all night before a snow day just because I had procrastinated.            Did this experience reform me? Of course not. I wrote some of my best legal briefs on the cusp of a deadline. But I always wondered, would they have been better if I’d started writing them just a tad before?            My writing career has given my procrastination habits a whole new dimension. Many deadlines for writers are self-imposed, such as, I want to get this out to my agent or send five queries by the end of the month. Those can be tougher than when an editor says your first draft is due in three months.            But what is it that makes us procrastinate? Many theorize it comes from a fear that we will not achieve perfection. Others debunk that as a water cooler myth and say it has other causes. I actually tried to procrastinate writing this blog post by taking an online quiz on procrastination to determine if I was the garden variety or had “Procrastinator” tattooed on my back. Unfortunately, the quiz is no longer available. I guess I’ll have to continue writing the blog.            How do I procrastinate? Any way I can. But there does seem to be a pattern, so I’ll confess.            Facebook quizzes. I know they are stupid and probably make private information about me available to the Russians, but if I’m in a procrastination kind of mood, I’ll take the risk. “Whose Name Is Written on Your Future Marriage Certificate?” will grab me even though I will soon celebrate my fortieth anniversary.  “What color is your personality/chakra?” seemed irresistible when I had a deadline looming. “Plan an afternoon tea party and we’ll predict how many children you’ll have” sounded scientifically sound to me when I was supposed to be editing. “What is your real age?” only primed the pump for this procrastinator when I learned I was truly decades younger than I am.            When I find myself taking these quizzes, I force myself to post the results on Facebook with the comment, “Someone is procrastinating.” Does this self-admission embarrass me into jumping on task?            Often, it only makes me realize how badly the bathroom needs to be cleaned. Or that I am in desperate need for a pedicure. Occasionally I will decide it is the perfect moment to cook Bolognese sauce. When I am really desperate, I will leaf through my daily “To Do” lists, which I keep in a notebook. I will look back months for items which were not crossed off.            Ultimately I apply a little “ass glue” and plop my butt in a chair and start to write. After the first sentence, I realize whatever task I had feared doing was less painful than the act of procrastination. With each word, I feel better. Am I cured of procrastination? Hell, no. This sequence promises to repeat itself.            Will you share how you procrastinate? I’m getting tired of those silly quizzes and could use some new ideas.             

I’m in the throes of edits right now. Lots to do and never enough time. However, I can’t simply sit at a desk and work. I need breaks to clear my head or to think through a problem. For this I turn to yard work. I’d like to call it gardening but that would imply knowledge beyond “the grass is too high”. My yard is large enough that it takes a couple hours on a riding mower, plus there are always sticks to pick up, along with other ‘non-thinking’ but productive activities. My mind can wander and at the same time I can stop at any moment and run back inside and work on writing (the neighbors are used to seeing my mower sit in the front yard for a while in the middle of the job). I should note that taking baths is another favorite break/dash right back to work ploy. You would think that walking our Jack Russells several times a day would do the trick, but it’s not the same. They demand my full attention and I can’t drag them back to the house on a whim when inspiration strikes. Same thing with my other real hobby – painting. Stop at the wrong point there and the brushes dry, the paint sets, and you’ve ruined the piece. My question is: what do you do in these moments when you need to write but also clear your head?  Paula Munier – I walk the dogs, I garden, but for me the most important way I recharge physically, mentally, and emotionally is yoga. Yoga clears my head, it keeps my shoulders and neck and arms and hands and fingers flexible and pain-free, and it gives me the emotional ballast I need to face the page. I do yoga at home, and I go to yoga classes at my favorite yoga studio whenever I can. My latest plan: A long weekend at Kripalu, a yoga and wellness retreat in the Berkshires. My reward for turning in my latest book to my publisher. Namaste! https://kripalu.org Susan Breen – I find walking my dogs a great way to clear my head. I walk the same path every day, twice a day, a circle through my woods, so because the dogs and I know what we’re going to do, it frees me up to look around and see how things are changing. Particularly this time of year, I’m always on the look out for things blooming or sprouting or erupting.  I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve pushed a story forward just by rambling around. I also love doing jigsaw puzzles, and I find watching HGTV very soothing. A half an hour of Lottery Dream Home and I’m ready to go.  Michele Dorsey – Simple repetitive tactile tasks like weeding, chopping for a recipe, even folding laundry help me quiet my mind and sort through my thoughts. To lose myself physically, like Paula, I practice yoga. I’ve discovered doing yoga in the ocean is even more soothing than on my mat. I love to walk the paths through the Audubon Sanctuary near my home.  I can also sit quietly in a church, a museum, or a library and distill the clutter in my head. The key to any of these is solitude. I remember my mother imitating Greta Garbo saying, “I want to be alone.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tojjWQvlPN8  Now I get it!  Robin Stuart – What you describe happens to me all time because I’m either so excited about what I’m writing that I can’t get the words out fast enough or I’m stressed because the words won’t come. Either way I need a physical outlet to release the pressure. What that looks like depends on where I am and time of day. I write at all different times of the day or night because of my schedule. If the option is available I’ll go for a hike or bike ride. Mountain biking, especially, commands full attention which is great for a mental reset. If those options aren’t available, I turn up the music and dance it out. If it’s late at night or too early in the morning for a dance party then I meditate for 5-10 minutes to clear my head and get my butt back in the chair. Cate Holahan – I go out with my girlfriends to de-stress and get out of my head.  Alexia Gordon – I go for a walk. A meandering stroll through town helps clear my head. Sometimes I stop in at a cafe or coffee shop so I can people-watch and eavesdrop (I admit it). Eavesdropping often provides material. If the weather (or the fact that I’m still in my pajamas) precludes going out, I find a British mystery to read or watch. Midsomer Murders, Poirot, and Marple are my go-to sources to put me in a homicidal frame of mind.