Focus

What do you put on a Ninja Demon Baby's birthday cake? Ninja eyes, of course. The eyes were made of frosting and we used the picture at left for inspiration. I would show a picture of the cake, but he stick his fingers in the eyes first thing and so the cake was badly mutilated. Nonetheless, this post is about Ninja focus.

I decided, after a couple of weeks of indecision about what project to focus on, to bring out my romantic-suspense and re-envision it as a thriller. When I opened the file, I discovered I had 250 pages of the sucker, and it was highly polished . . . and then the fun began.

The central plot involves a demonic possession of an actual historical figure from the Middle Ages. To that, I added an assassination by a Serbian priest, a schizophrenic with visions, and assorted other elements. I cut the prologue and chapter one and two entirely. And then more fun began.

What I essentially discovered was that this was all about pacing. That it had "worked" before, but if this was really a race around the globe, then it damn well better be a race around the globe from Athens to Brazil to the Vatican to Connecticut to London. What I discovered was I had all those chapters in there, but I was sandwiching sidetracks into the characters' lives because, well, I find them interesting. An entire chapter depicting the decline of a young man from promising chess player to very ill schizophrenic was reduced to ONE line.

"My brother has been in that room for six years."

That's ALL you need to know. I show the current condition of the brother. I don't need to TELL you how he got that way, the slow decline, the suicide attempt, the way his sister's life became consumed with rushing home from work to care for him. You don't need any of that. An entire chapter reduced to a single sentence.

That's focus.

When you get really ruthless with a manuscript--fearlessly ruthless--it's incredibly freeing. And now, more than I ever did before, I can clearly see why some books are a "meh." I stopped at page 250 before because the theology I was creating was difficult to wade through. And the book was a hybrid. Not really a romantic-suspense, and yet not a thriller. I have found over the years when I worked on other writers' manuscripts that a sure sign of a meh was not really knowing what you have on your hands, what the genre demands. Another sign was sidetracking, meandering off to what on its own is good writing, solid, but really amounts to a back story that can be reduced to a sentence.

When writers hear that, they often say, "Not possible." Well . . . working on this, I got proof. Yeah. It is. Show the damn guy in the room, what he has become. SHOW it. Then one sentence.

You don't need even an extra COMMA in there.

So, fellow writers . . . do you have Ninja focus?

Hopping

I like to blog hop. I will leap from writer to writer, enjoying the way each blogger develops a style, humor, political voice, whatever. And, I have come to the conclusion, I am basically a hopper in real life too.

What do I mean? Well, my writer pal Sara Hantz has written about taking up knitting again. My mom is visiting, and I have already spent $150 on yarn. Note that it would be cheaper to go and BUY a blanket, but I am knitting one, along with a scarf for my friend Bruce, a hat for younger daughter, a sweater for Demon Baby, and another scarf for charity. Note that I did not say first I am going to knit an afghan and THEN I am going to knit a scarf, and so on. I have all these projects going on at once. That way, whatever I am in the mood for, I can pick up (some projects require more concentration than others).

Which is how I write. On my computer right now, I have three books in progress, plus one I am waiting for editing notes from my editor so I can tackle the next draft and then give her the final manuscript. That's four that I consider actually in progress (i.e., under contract). BUT, I also have one book that is nearly done that I haven't shopped to my agent yet, one that is just a loose series of ideas, and probably twenty that are "someday" books when I get around to them.

Now . . . this may seem an insane way to work. But . . . I READ this way, too. I have four different books of prayer or philosophy on my nightstand, one physics text I am making my way through, one thriller, one atronomy textbook, and a coffeetable book on the Soviet Union I am now reading, plus a half-dozen magazines. Plus I read the NY Times online each day and hop over to CNN fairly often.

You get the idea. I have a NY Times crossword puzzle book. I NEVER finish a puzzle in order. I work on one, get bored with it, work on another, come back to the first, go to a third.

So I don't know what it is, but I am a hopper in real life. I don't think I have A.D.D. or anything clinical that can be defined in any way . . . because if I NEED to concentrate for 12 hours straight to finish something, I will. Without an ounce of problem. I don't feel scattered at all. But my brain seems to like being challenged and so I hop along to something that interests said brain as soon as I get bored.

So tell me, do you hop?

A Thousand Minor Annoyances

I think it's human nature. I have some major stress going on in my life right now. My father's blindness has advanced rapidly, and we found out yesterday that the vision loss of this week, to near-total blindness, is irreversible. So that's it. What we thought would happen gradually over the next couple of years instead happened in one awful week. There's other stuff going on . . . and so I can't sleep. Thank God for my best friend who is also an insomniac. I can chat with her until I do get sleepy. But, oddly enough, in my waking life, I'm holding together well. I'm getting ready to go visit my father for a week or so, I am mobilizing friends to find the best eye doctors here, and so on. In a crisis, I'm your woman. I don't react, I don't cry, I don't panic (usually).

It's the thousand petty and minor annoyances that get to me. Like last night. Why do I have a picture of gallon jugs of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup, you may ask? Because that monster-sized Costco container of syrup is what my two-year-old (a.k.a. Demon Child) decided to throw from the TOP stair all the way down to the first floor of the house, where it smashed against a wall and all over his older brother's horn (big brother plays electric guitar and also a horn). Yes, I cleaned it up, but what does syrup attract?

Ants.

Which greeted me this a.m., swarming.

But that wasn't all. The Demon Seed also took the ONE piece of skincare that has worked miracles for me--and costs $60 for a little jar--and while I was talking on the phone with my father and was distracted, he opened it and flung the medicated powder all over the floor of the bathroom.

Then, this a.m., I tried FOUR pens before finding one that wasn't out of ink. (Note to family: when you discover a pen is out of ink, throw it out, don't stick it BACK into my jar of pens.)

None of this is a big deal--not the syrup, the ants, or the jar--but I found myself bawling my eyes out over ants and a sticky horn and not the bigger issues. I know I am transferring. I spoke to a friend who has been sobbing over his cat's death--but was dry-eyed at a family funeral.

So I get the process, but now I have to let go of the thousand minor annoyances and focus on my story. On days like this, I love disappearing into my work.

So tell me . . . is it the big stuff or the petty stuff? Ever have days where you just want to throw your hands up and quit--when you know it's all just silly things forgotten in a day or so? Time to exhale. Time to go within.

Peace,
E

GUEST BLOGGER: Vivi Anna

We have a guest blogger today--and she has a topic that I am SURE you will all relate to (I know I relate and then some!): FOCUS!

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Lately I’ve been struggling with staying focused. For a month I had no commitments or deadlines to worry about. I could’ve been working on the next Valorian Chronicles book, but hey, that would’ve made too much sense. In my mind, I was a free bird when it came to writing. I could write about whatever I wanted. Well, see, that’s a huge problem with me. Because I want to write everything. During that month, I started six separate projects, even going as far as writing synopses and writing first chapters. And I love them all. One more one day then the other mind you. Never two at the same time. So, I was at a loss of what I truly wanted to write, or what I should write.

I started looking at the markets, and what houses were buying what. Of course this just depressed me, because I didn’t have a new deal to rave about. But it did tell me a bit about which ideas of mine would be timelier, or I’m hoping ahead of the trend. But that left four solid projects to work on. Now what? I could work on all of them at the same time. But I couldn’t shop them all at the same time, so what would be the point. To me it would be a waste of time.

So, what should I work on??? Time ticks by and I still have no clue. My focus is gone.

The Oxford dictionary defines focus: a central point of attraction, attention, or activity. And there I see the problem, I’ve lost my point. The reasons I write. When I have a deadline I write to that, for my editor, so she always loves me. I’m under a time constraint and it works for me. I have a central point. Time.

So, without a deadline, for what point did I write? I realized that I write because I have to. Because I can’t not write and live peacefully with myself. I write because I love creating worlds and characters. I write because I love the process.

Without a deadline, I will drive myself insane with new ideas, but in the end I’ve satisfied my need to create. I may always have problems with focus, with channeling my gift into one project at a time. That’s my process I realize, and that’s okay with me.

How do you stay focused? Do you have an odd process that works for you?

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Visit Vivi Anna on the web. And run out to buy her Noctune, BLOOD SECRETS!

Now tell us about your focus!