What I Wrote Today – 5

What I Wrote Today – An excerpt from my work in progress, Beanstalk & Basket. Jack is stuck on the last page of his story and would be completely bored – if he hadn’t just met the girl from the story next door.

Coming to you fresh and unedited – subject to change before future publication. Enjoy!

WIWT5IG2

Jack’s mother was where he left her when he returned to the mansion that night — sitting at the long, shiny wooden table in the dining room, counting gold coins, stroking the magic goose, Gertrude, who sat peacefully in her lap. She was chatting with the enchanted harp, Penelope, who was sitting on the table strumming herself and clearly not listening. Penelope looked like a normal harp, only with a woman carved into the bow, and her enchanted arms stretched out and her nimble fingers strummed herself expertly. Jack had gotten rather tired of harp music, but he couldn’t exactly complain about Penelope. He’d rescued her from a giant and she was eternally undignified in her gratitude towards him.

“There’s my hero!” Penelope called, waving merrily to Jack.

“Hello, Penelope,” Jack said, waving back and hurrying past the dining room to the stairs that would lead up to his room in the tower at the back of the mansion.

“Jack!” his mother called sharply.

He stopped short and poked his head into the dining room. “Yes, Mum?”
She looked up from her stack of coins and looked at him over the top of her small golden glasses, which she’d bought after he landed them in the lap of luxury with Gertrude and Penelope. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “The servants told me you never came round for supper,”

“Uh…just out chopping trees,” Jack replied.
“Ugh,” his mother grumbled. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. You don’t need to work. If anything you should go out and play, not work,”

Jack shrugged. “I enjoy working,”

She scoffed. “Imagine that. A boy who has reached his happily-ever-after, with a fine home and all the comforts of life, feeling any sort of need to go out and work!”

Jack sighed. He and his mother simply did not understand each other. For her, work meant survival. For him, it was…necessary. Fun at times, yes, but it was more that he felt like he’d go crazy if he wasn’t doing something.

“I’m tired, Mum,” he said. “I think I’ll go straight to bed,”
“That’s what work does to you, Jack, it wears you out. Isn’t that right, Gertrude?”

Gertrude looked up, honked as though in agreement, and closed her eyes again.

“Goodnight, Mum,” Jack said.

“Goodnight, Jack,” she called back. “Rest up. Maybe tomorrow you’ll have a little fun,”

Jack thought about that as he climbed the spiral staircase to his room — the only room the servants weren’t allowed to clean. Whatever happened tomorrow, he was pretty sure it was going to be interesting. He was going back to the gap. Maybe he’d see Red.

 

Thanks for reading, God bless!

Clare

 

More Like This: 

What I Wrote Today – 1

What I Wrote Today – 2

What I Wrote Today – 3

What I Wrote Today – 4

How My Non-Writing Jobs Help Support My Writing

So, apparently, I was kidding when I said I wanted to blog consistently.

No. That’s not true. I do. I just kept being busy and failing to make it a priority. So here I am. Making it a priority.

Something I started thinking about this week is the two part-time jobs I currently work at. I’m a secretary for a guy who sells insurance, which means a lot of office work and organizing and sending out promotional mailings and calling the home office to ask brusque East-coast ladies about people’s beneficiaries and loan amounts. I’m also a cashier at a Hy-Vee (which, for those of you not in the midwest, is like the mother-of-all-grocery-stores).

I reflected on how those two other jobs take up so much of my time, drain so much of my energy, and tend to make the writing job feel more like…well, like a hobby. Which is sad. But I challenged myself to think of it differently by asking – Are there any ways my non-writing jobs can support my writing job? I concluded that there were, so I decided to share them in case there’s anyone else in the same boat – writing and working and wanting to be able to write more.

JobsSupportWritingIG

 

Boredom

Boredom is actually a really useful tool. It allows your brain to wander off to more interesting, creative things during tasks that don’t require you to be fully present – like putting stamps on 200 envelopes or ringing up fifty cans in a row. Without boredom, a person might not actually have any mental motivation to brainstorm or problem solve.

I hesitated to list this as a positive because what I’ve been working on most throughout 2018 is being more in the moment and less in my head. I wondered if it was actually a bad thing to let boredom take me out of the present. However, this week I came up with two ideas for blog posts (including this one) while I was at work, so I concluded that a little bit of boredom does actually support me as a writer, which is a very good thing.

 

Money

Let me be perfectly honest here. I am nowhere close to supporting myself with my writing. And that’s okay. Really. Because everyone has to start somewhere and no two people’s career paths are the same. It’s only been a year since I published my first book. I’m working on my next one. I’ve got time.

In the meantime, I have bills to pay, meals to eat, and I would rather not move back in with my parents. My two part-time, not-what-I-want-to-do-for-the-rest-of-my-life jobs enable me to live (and live independently) while I figure this whole writing thing out.  Money is a necessity in life, and while my goal is to eventually be able to support myself by writing, I’m grateful to be employed at two decent jobs where there’s security and even potential for growth.

 

Conversations

My boss at my secretary job will occasionally just sit back and talk to me about politics, theology, ethics, and wild mushrooms. I love when he gets in a chatty mood. I’ve learned a lot and gotten some real inspiration from our conversations. Just today we had a lengthy discussion about grief and how to talk to someone who is grieving. 

At Hy-Vee, I will potentially talk to hundreds of people throughout the day. While it’s true a lot of those conversations range from banal to unpleasant, they still open me up to another person’s perspective. Every person I meet could inspire a new book character or contribute to an existing one. While working as a cashier, I have been taught a brief history of the Easy Bake oven, been told a slightly inappropriate story about Sir Lancelot, been offered a job as a face model (which I regret to say I declined because I’m still battling a fear of new experiences) and have had a woman offer to set me up with either(!) of her single sons. Quality story material.

 

People Watching

I also get to study the mannerisms, facial expressions, and movements of people as they perform the very human task of shopping. Often times, I’m bored and sour and wish I could be at home doing anything else, and I forget to pay attention. But let me encourage you (and me) to pay attention. You never know what interesting or weird or wonderful things might be waiting to be discovered. Like a couple absent-mindedly touching each other’s arm or back as they shop. Or a little girl asking her dad if they can get a bouquet of flowers for her mom. Or a sweet, slightly shy man who comes in almost every afternoon and must be a good cook based on what he buys. Or a couple of middle-school boys having the most low-key fight ever so their mom doesn’t notice them punching each other across the cart. Stories are everywhere – you just have to be looking for them. 

 

Connections

I actually got my secretary job because of my writing job. My now-boss’s wife was directing a play that I had written for a local homeschool group. He was looking for a secretary, and it occurred to his wife that I might be a good candidate – if I had time to write a whole play I probably had a lot of free time (I didn’t, but that’s neither here nor there) and I must be good at typing. So she e-mailed me asking if I would be interested in a secretary position. They interviewed me and hired me within the next week. Just this week, my boss asked me if I’d be interested in a potential writing job with a friend of his. I don’t know if anything will come of that, but it’s a possibility. Another example – last year I sold several copies of my book to coworkers at my Hy-Vee job. You never know what kind of connections you might find at a fine-but-not-what-I-want job.

So there you have it. Just a few of the ways I found that my non-writing jobs actually do support my writing job. Yes, those jobs take up a lot of my time. Yes, they often wear me out to the point that I don’t have the mental energy to actually write at the end of the day. But this is my life right now. Those jobs are supporting the life I will have someday – next month, next year, or whenever it comes together. For now, they are helping build me into the writer and the person I will be. And for that, I am most certainly grateful.

Thanks for reading, God bless!

Clare

More Like This:

Some Thoughts On Patience

Journal Entries 1

How I Journal – Prayer In Spite of Anxiety

4/27/18 – UPDATE

savingpng

It’s been a while and I wanted to give an update on me and my writing because this matters to me and if you’re reading this, maybe it matters to you, too.

  • It’s been almost a full year since Good You Were Here went live on Amazon! Craziness. To celebrate the anniversary (May 19th) I’m probably going to be doing a giveaway. More on that in the future.
  • I finished a first draft of my short play, Royal Bring Your Dog to Dinner Day. I was writing it for a local homeschool group and learned they are not actually going to be performing a play this year. No worries. It was a lot of fun and I look forward to seeing it performed sometime in 2019.
  • After finishing the play, I picked back up my 2015 NaNo Novel Tulip Season. There’s a lot of very good stuff there but it needs some work and some revising. Not a lot of headway on that but we’ll see. Definitely a story I want to finish and send out into the world sooner than later.
  • I got a little bit stuck and overwhelmed with Tulip Season since it’s a longer book, so I picked back up a story I’ve been developing probably since 2010. It has a working title of Beanstalk and Basket and it’s a crossover of Jack and the Beanstalk and Little Red Riding Hood. I’m really excited at the prospect of writing a book for a younger audience since my 13-year-old sister and 8-year-old brother love reading and have been asking me for books geared more towards them.

There are several reasons why I’ve been more absent for almost a month from my blog and from my writing social media in general. I’ve been busy with: life in general, my two other jobs, family/friends/relationship. But I’ve also been struggling with a general lack of sleep, some anxiety, and imposter syndrome.

If you aren’t familiar with imposter syndrome, Wikipedia defines it thus: “Impostor syndrome (also known as impostor phenomenon, fraud syndrome or the impostor experience) is a psychological pattern in which people doubt their accomplishments and have a persistent, often internalized fear of being exposed as a “fraud”.”

For me, this has meant feeling like my writing isn’t ‘that good’, that no one really cares about my writing, that I’m too lazy to be a full-time writer, that I should stop trying to make it more than a hobby because I’ll just be wasting my time, and that no one will take me seriously. I have good support systems helping me overcome this but it’s going to be a process. Over this last month, I kept wanting to give updates, especially as I was tip-typing away and making progress on stories, but I kept thinking, “Eh, no one cares, it doesn’t really matter.”

But it does matter. A lot. Stories matter and no one else can tell the stories I have to tell. It may be slow going, but there’s no reason I can’t potentially help support myself with my writing. It will take a lot of hard work, but I’m capable of hard work. I want to put in the work. I just have to believe it matters.

So there’s my update. It is still my goal to have a blog post up every Tuesday and Friday. My overall writing goal for the year is to publish at least one book. I had originally had the lofty ambition of publishing at least three books, but I’m okay with downsizing that goal so I can put out something truly beautiful.

Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking with me. Stories coming soon, I promise. 

God bless,

Clare

 

Related Posts:

Future Projects – 1

What I Wrote Today 4

It Is Good That We Are Here – The Why Behind the Title

 

 

A Love Letter to Lent

Dear Lent,

Every year, I feel like I fail you. You are 40 days (plus 6 Sundays) for me to really restart my faith. This year, in particular, I feel like I didn’t do enough. I should have tried harder. Prayed more. Given up something more challenging. I’m just not as different now as I hoped I’d be. And yet, I had my priest encourage me to look at what God has done this Lent, not what I’ve done. When I look at you that way, I see how beautiful and fruitful and unexpected you have truly been this year.

Today is Holy Saturday. You are drawing to a close. Tonight and tomorrow we will stand in our churches and proclaim an earth-shattering truth that we’ve heard so many times, it doesn’t shake us. We’ve gotten used to it. But it is still true and it is still utterly amazing. Christ is risen.

I remember, probably a decade ago, I came to a realization during Holy Week that Jesus actually died. Maybe it was seeing the bodies of my uncle and great-grandmother at their funerals that convinced me how astonishing that was. That Jesus was really and truly dead. His soul left and what was taken down from the cross and laid in the tomb was nothing more than a body. This realization felt stupid; duh, Clare, you’ve heard this at every single Mass you’ve ever been to in your life. But God assured me it wasn’t stupid. It was important. It was good. What would the Crucifixion be worth if Jesus had just been kidding?

Last night for Good Friday, I watched Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ for the first time. It’s hard to explain how powerful that was for me, but I’ll try to put it this way: As I watched Jesus being scourged nearly to death, suffering unimaginably before he’d even taken up His cross, the thought that kept going through my head was, “I don’t feel worth this.” And what God continually responded to me with was, “This is how much I love you. This is how much you are worth.” Whether or not I believed it or felt worthy of it, I knew it was true.

As I type this, I’m listening to ‘Pieces’ by Amanda Cook on repeat. I think this song captures what Jesus was expressing with every step, every drop of blood of His Passion. He gave Himself fully, completely, holding nothing back – for me. That ‘for me’ statement is true for all of us. For me, as though I were the only one in the whole world. Jesus would have gone up on that cross and died the definition of an excruciating death if I was the only sinner in existence. He would have gone the whole nine yards whether or not I ever loved Him back – whether or not I even believed in Him.

Unreserved, unrestrained, your love is wild Your love is wild for me
It isn’t shy, it’s unashamed, your love is proud to be seen with me
You don’t give your heart in pieces, you don’t hide yourself to tease us
Uncontrolled, uncontained, you love is a fire
Burning bright for me
It’s not just a spark, it’s not just a flame your love is a light
That all the world will see
You don’t give your heart in pieces, you don’t hide yourself to tease us
Your love’s not fractured, it’s not a troubled mind
It isn’t anxious
It’s not the restless kind
Your love’s not passive
Its never disengaged
It’s always present
It hangs on every word we say
Love keeps it promises
It keeps its word
It honors what’s sacred
Cause its vows are good
Your love’s not broken
It’s not insecure
Your love’s not selfish
You love is pure
You don’t give your heart in pieces, you don’t hide yourself to tease us 

You have been a very good Lent, whether or not I feel it. Throughout these 46 days, God shook me down to my deepest wound, challenged me, grew me and blessed me beyond anything I could ever imagine.

So, thank you. I’ll see you again next year.

Love,

Clare

 

More like this:

A Love Letter to Anxiety

A Love Letter to Advent

A Love Letter to God

 

Some Thoughts on Patience

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about patience.

If there’s one thing I could use more of, it’s patience. I need to be patient with my writing because it’s happening, even if it’s happening slowly. I need to be patient with God and trust His timing in my life. I need to be patient with myself as I struggle against anxiety and try to figure out my next steps in life. I need to be patient with the people I love because they are just as imperfect and incomplete as I am.

Sometimes I just want to be done waiting and get to the part where I’m there, having done/doing the thing or living the life I’ve been waiting for. Today I had a conversation with my boss about how the tough thing about patience is that you’re never DONE being patient. Even if you get to the the thing you’ve been waiting for, there’s always something new to have to wait and be patient for.

So then I guess life is one long string of waiting for something…unless you stop just living for the next thing and start being present in the moment.

coffee1.jpg

I’m really bad at this. That’s why I bought this shirt, as a wearable reminder to myself.

I tend to live in the theoretical someday because it is either more interesting or more concerning than the present. The older I get, the more I realize how much time I waste and how much I miss by doing that. True, a lot of the time, the present moment is painful or hard or even just boring, but it’s only going to happen once and if I miss it, that’s it, it’s gone.

It becomes easy to live in the past, which has already happened and we can replay, or the future, which hasn’t happened and we can imagine however we want. Living in the moment is hard. The moment is happening now and it’s always moving. It takes patience. It takes conscious effort. I’m trying, but I know I still have a long way to go.

I started thinking about this quote from Rainer Maria Rilke this afternoon. I think it captures what I mean.

rilkequote1.jpg

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as though they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future. you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” – Rainer Maria Rilke

So, here I am, waiting, trying to live in the moment, to love the questions, and praying for patience.

 

Thanks for reading, God bless!

Clare

What I Wrote Today – 4

An excerpt from the play I’m working on for a local homeschool group, currently titled Royal Bring Your Dog to Dinner Day.

 

(Messenger enters stage left)

Chef: Another message, Messenger?

Messenger: Naturally. (Shakes out the scroll) Ahem. A Message from Her Majesty the Queen to the Royal Chef. Dear Chef. The dogs will be arriving shortly.

Chef: Wait, wait, wait. Dogs? What does she mean, DOGS? And why are they arriving shortly? How long from now is shortly, exactly?

Messenger: Let me finish. Ahem. The Duchess and the Other Duchess and I are getting our nails done, we will be joining the dogs just as quick as we can. Give them a little appetizer and keep them entertained. They’re no trouble at all, I promise.

Chef: (wailing) No!

Messenger: (Finishing message) Thanks a million, you’re the best, love and hugs, Her Majesty the Queen.

Chef: Is there a postscript where she says haha, just kidding?

Messenger: There is not.

Chef: (putting head in hands) Of course not.

Sous: (patting the Chef on the shoulder) There, there, Chef. It’ll be okay.

Messenger: Any return message, Chef?
Chef: Uh…tell her it is our Royal Pleasure to watch the Royal Dogs.

Messenger: (giving the chef a thumbs up) I will do that. Hang in there, guys.

Chef: Yes, yes, thank you, Messenger, goodbye.

(Messenger exits stage right)

Chef: Anyone know how soon shortly is?

(Trumpets blast)

Commis 1: I guess shortly is over now.

(Reenter the Messenger stage right with Chubby and Tubby and one leash dragging behind him)

Messenger: May I present to the Royal Kitchen Staff, the Royal Dogs.

(The kitchen staff all bow to the royal dogs)

Commis 2: Not to be disrespectful, but isn’t there someone who’s job it actually is to watch the Royal Dogs? You know…maybe a Royal Dogsitter?
Messenger: There are actually five of them, but they all have the day off.

(Royal Kitchen Staff all groan)

 

Thanks for reading! God bless.

 

More Like This:

What I Wrote Today – 1

What I Wrote Today – 2

What I Wrote Today – 3

Shelving Being Daniel & What’s Next?

I promised an update on Being Daniel at the beginning of February, and here it finally is.

Like I planned, I started over and rewrote Being Daniel from the beginning. That process started out very rewarding and exciting and as I went, I thought, “Awesome! This is going to work!” But then something happened.

I got to the part that had really given me trouble in my original draft, the part that I had rushed because I didn’t know what to do with it; the nitty-gritty of why the relationship between the primary characters doesn’t work. I found that I still didn’t know what to do with it. But I kept trying. I had so many ideas and did more research to be certain I was portraying this emotionally abusive relationship as sensitively but authentically as possible.

Unfortunately, I’ve realized that now just isn’t Being Daniel‘s time. I’m not in a place where I am able to mentally or emotionally dig deep where I need to, but even more than that, there are elements in the story that aren’t fully formed in my head and heart. I’ve gotten feedback, tried writing my way through those underdeveloped parts and given it my best effort; the story just isn’t ready.

So now what?

Well, I’ve been asked to write a play for a local homeschool group! I wrote a play two years ago for them and it was such a fun experience watching them bring it to life. I’m going to focus on writing the best play that I can for them and see where I am after that. I’m hopeful Being Daniel will be a published book someday, but I’m at peace with shelving it for the time being.

Thanks for reading, God bless!

Clare

 

More Posts on Being Daniel:

Writing Alcohol

Being Daniel – 95 Days To Go

What I Wrote Today 1

What I Wrote Today 2

What I Wrote Today 3

Being Daniel Concept Art

 

A Love Letter to Anxiety

Dear Anxiety,

We go way back. I didn’t know your name for a long time and I don’t remember exactly when we met, but I do recall when I was five or six, having that chronic fear of being lost, being locked in rooms or being locked out of the house. You stole a lot of fun and joy out of my childhood.

I got to know you better when I was twelve years old and became convinced that my chronic headaches had to mean I had a brain tumor. I still didn’t know your name, so every time you showed up, I just assumed you were a symptom of whatever was killing me. Finally, I found out that I needed glasses, and when my vision was corrected my headaches went away. But you stuck around in the form of that crippling fear of death, which took years to ease off.

And then, December 2014. That was your big breakout, wasn’t it? I was sitting on my bed and thought I was going insane from the all the thoughts and fears spinning around in my head. I felt so physically ill, I wondered if I’d caught a stomach bug. I grieved a relationship that wasn’t even over yet because you had me so, so, scared. I fought with you for six more months, and finally, I was able to get past you and make the decision I needed. With nothing I could love and lose to torment me over, you faded into the shadows.

But you’re still here. You got a good grip on my heart that night in 2014, and now it’s easier for you to sneak back up on me. (Kind of like heat exhaustion.) You keep flaring up whenever I have to do something new, whenever I fly on a plane, whenever things get too crazy at work, whenever I’m alone for too long, whenever I drink too much caffeine, whenever I perceive something wrong with someone, and whenever I care about something a lot. Could you stop doing that?

At the end of the day, you aren’t me. I believed that lie for a long time. But you’re not. You’re something that happens to me. I know you come from some weird survival instinct, this need in me to protect myself from getting hurt, to weigh the risk vs. reward before doing anything. I’m learning that it’s not my job to protect myself from everything because that’s impossible. At some point, after I’ve thought things through and done my best, I have to trust God enough to let my future be uncertain. 

You and I are probably going to spend the rest of my life together in some capacity. And that’s okay. I won’t live my life afraid of you. That being said, you better believe I’m going to work every single day to be stronger and smarter than you. My life is so much better when you’re in your proper place: keeping me from jumping off of bridges and away from possibly-rabid cats.

I’m choosing not to be afraid of you. Even when you jump me and pin me to the floor, sitting on top of my chest and asking me a million questions, I’m trying to choose not to be afraid of you. You drive me straight into the Garden with my God who was so anxious, He was sweating blood. He knows you better than I do, and you didn’t stop Him. You won’t stop me, either. 

As I wrote in my journal back on January 21st: “This is just anxiety. It’s just something that is happening to you. It will go away, and when it does, you will still be here. Don’t be afraid.”

Love,

Clare

What I Wrote Today – 3

They headed out of the city on US-63. Isabel drove very fast and efficiently. She rolled the windows down and leaned back in her seat, a small smile on her face.

Tony gazed at her, his heart pounding. He looked across the car at her and took in the sight of her, windblown but the happiest he’d ever seen her. She was beautiful and wild and all he wanted was to touch her. He reached out and rested his hand on her knee. She rested her hand on top of his and kept her eyes on the road. Her small smile widened for a second.

“I haven’t done this in years,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“Drive,” she answered. “Drive just to drive. Just to go fast and go far away,”
“Is that what you and Daniel did?”

She nodded. She lifted her hand off of his and turned on the CD that was in the player. Tony had never heard any of the songs that played, but the music seemed to turn their drive into a scene from a movie.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Thriving Ivory,” Isabel replied. “This album is from 2008,”

“I love it,”
“Really?” she asked. “Some people think the lead singer’s voice is weird,”

“No, I like it. It’s different,”

They fell silent and lyrics filled up the car.

You’re talkin’ in your sleep like there’s nothing more to lose/ Well hey you know you’re not alone,

‘Cause honey, I get lonely too, and it feels so familiar, must have been here before, singing ‘I don’t wanna go, but I don’t wanna hurt anymore’.

Tony kept his hand on her knee and she kept both hands on the wheel.

About half an hour later, Tony saw a sign for Lake Louise State Park, and Isabel signaled to exit. They drove into the park and Isabel let Tony pay the entry fee at the front office, then kept driving. They passed camping grounds and a picnic area, and finally, Isabel stopped the car and parked in a small lot beyond a sign that read Lake Louise Dam. She got out of the car, taking her coffee along with her, and led him towards the sound of steadily flowing water.

As they exited the parking lot, Tony saw the dam. It looked like a huge version of a fake waterfall set up in someone’s yard, with water from the lake spilling into the river, flowing down over the sloped concrete barrier.

There was a family with three small boys playing noisily around on the far bank, running in and out of the trees, but otherwise, the place was deserted. Isabel walked right up to the dam and slipped off her shoes before sitting down on a portion of the barrier wall. Tony took his shoes and socks off and sat down beside her. She had a melancholy expression on her face as she stretched her leg out to let the water from the dam spill over her foot.

The little family came back across the shallow water and left, taking their noise away with them in a minivan. It was quiet except for the sound of the water and Tony’s heart pounding away in his ears. He broke the silence after a few minutes. “Why here?” he asked.

“This was our place,” she said, looking out at the lake. “We’d come here whenever we needed to talk.”

Tony popped the lid off his cup, sloshing a little on his hand. He licked the coffee off his knuckles and looked at her. Her gaze was fixed on the water, as though she was were seeing something that made her very sad.

“So that’s what you want to do right now?” he asked. “Talk?”

Being Daniel – Concept Art

Do books have concept art? They do when I’m writing them, that’s for sure.

I am a highly visual person and it can be hard to translate the ideas in my head to words on a page. With Being Daniel in particular, I’ve had a hard time staying focused. Sometimes when that happens, the best thing for me is to do something else creative but still related to the book. That usually means making soundtracks or graphics to kind of a set a tone or capture the aesthetic I’m going for.

Here is the piece that I made yesterday for Being Daniel.

bdconceptart1.jpg

I just used some free domain silhouette images and PicMonkey and this is what I came up with. In case you haven’t been clued in, Being Daniel is about a dysfunctional relationship between two people who need to love and forgive themselves before they can love anyone else. Because I’m a sucker for romance and can much more easily write a beautiful story about true love, it helps me to have this image in mind while I’m working on this story.

bdconceptart2.jpg

What do you do to stay focused while writing? Let me know!

Thanks for reading, new post coming Friday. God bless!

Clare

 

Other posts on Being Daniel

Writing Alcohol

Being Daniel – 95 Days To Go

What I Wrote Today 1

What I Wrote Today 2